Blessed and fortunate is who I am

The Quiet Event

I have been asked several times what I am doing for my birthday, and the honest truth is, I am not doing much; perhaps only if something happens that I probably have no part in. The sense of occasion seems to overwhelm me; I would prefer to withdraw into solitude rather than participate in some celebration.

The last significant event surrounding my birthday was when I turned 49. It was all arranged by a young friend, and there were many guests, most of whom were acquaintances rather than close friends. As the celebration reached its peak at my friend's apartment, I withdrew to rest. I was already in dreamland when the last guest departed.

Yet each revolution around the sun does call for a celebration. I mark each one with thankfulness and gratitude. I am profoundly fortunate and blessed, which I recognise without dispute or argument.

A Dreadful Condition Loomed

When I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in June 2024, I was advised to commence active treatment. I told the doctors I had other plans: I was going on holiday, and it was only after returning that I would begin to consider what lay ahead.

My plan at that time was to spend time with Brian, but it was also a difficult period. I was reading correspondence between doctors about my case, and besides learning of the cancer diagnosis over a week before meeting with the specialist (due to mishandling of my records), I also saw that their chatter suggested the cancer was malignant.

To a layperson like me, I did not realise that all cancers are considered malignant in medical terms. Though in reality, the meaning wasn’t far off: it was evil, malevolent, dangerous, invasive, and possibly aggressive as well.

Batting and Battling in the Mind

Not only was the prospect daunting, but it was also frightening. I had to take control of the thoughts rushing through my mind and fill my listening with sermons about healing and living. Sometimes a creeping cloud would interfere, emboldening thoughts I was trying hard not to entertain: the idea that this cancer, which I could neither see nor feel, had the capacity to kill.

I fought off these invasions of morbidity and mortality, encouraging myself that I would see the better end of this ordeal. I would walk through the valley of the shadow and fog of cancer to emerge into the brilliant light of the sun, into green pastures and beside still waters.

The goodness and mercy of God, along with faith in the same, restored my soul and gave me hope. It was not going to be a journey without support for both the good times and the bad.

Looking to the Best Ahead

As it turned out, after completing radiotherapy, I took an extended sick leave and spent seven weeks in Cape Town with Brian. I had wished to celebrate this occasion with him; my hopes did not turn into concrete plans, but I do not view that as unfortunate. Opportunities once lost can be reclaimed, even after a temporary setback.

We will do more of this, not just in visits and fleeting moments, but also in the near future of living together, where absence would be reserved for the mundane and routine daily matters, such as work and university.

Every morning will begin with a smile, a kiss, and a prayer, and every night with gratitude, a kiss, and joy in our hearts. We live to tell better stories, and my mouth is full of testimonies of such stories.

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of telling better stories

Celebrating life in abundance

21 years can seem like a lifetime, yet it is just over a third of my life. In that time, one can look back at the many things that have happened, the things done, the people encountered, the places travelled to, the events and activities that could be life-defining, and that becomes a chronicle of life.

I count my blessings and celebrate the joy of living. To have lived through two episodes of life-threatening cancer 15 years apart and still have a story to tell makes me one of the most fortunate people alive.

I take nothing for granted, the life I live is by the grace and mercy of God, medical interventions notwithstanding, the guarantees offered count for nothing if you do not have a greater assurance for results.

For writing better stories

Then what do you do when you have a blog and experience episodes of cancer? You write about it, document the treatment and side effects at diagnosis, and provide some thoughts in the aftermath.

Yes, my blog contains life stories and experiences, both the toughest and the triumphant. I am still standing because there is much more to reveal in my life, and I have better stories to tell.

Whatever inspired my blog at its inception has now turned out to be a reckoning of how favour had greeted me in too many places to mention, especially where I have neither worked for nor deserved the abundance of good that has come my way.

You would notice I rarely use the word lucky, rather, I am fortunate; 1: bringing some good thing not foreseen as certain: auspicious 2: receiving some unexpected good. Definitions according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary. If anything, I have been remiss and negligent in recording the many instances of this glorious divine goodwill accorded me.

Thought Picnic: Between fight and plight

In the flight of fight

I have always been ambivalent about the idea of battling cancer, especially when it is said that someone lost their battle to cancer as if they were not fighting enough to defeat the enemy that has both violated and invaded their bodies.

On completing my treatment course of radiotherapy yesterday, I received many congratulations, and this is not because I have passed a test or navigated some difficult terrain to emerge the winner of some prize, I was taking treatment that seemed harmless, but the side effects are quite unpleasant.

Thinking back to fifteen years ago when the consultant offered the prospect of just five weeks to live or thrive if I could tolerate the treatment, I learnt something about dealing with infirmity and cancer, in particular.

All contribute to it

Advances in medical science learnt by experts taught to students, and with patients in the centre of the whole situation have contributed to the body of knowledge that informs how cancer is treated. Both those who survived and those who died in the record of their experiences redound to this compendium of knowledge that is delivered as expertise when we consult with medical experts.

In my view, there are no winners or losers, no soldiers or deserters, some like me, who have been fortunate, others not as much, and that is a sad story in the human narrative. Advances in science seek to reduce the number of the less fortunate and everything we can do to eradicate all forms of cancer by prevention or treatment must have us all in that endeavour.

I take the congratulations with gratitude because they are wishing me well. Sometimes, the fight with cancer is more one of a mindset about it, rather than of some pugilistic fight to exhaustion without rules to the bout.

Just as being fortunate

The greater fighting chance we have with cancer is to have caught it early and be presented with a menu of options for treatment leading to good outcomes without too much pain, suffering, or discomfort.

Having encountered cancer twice and been given the best medical science can offer to treat it is indeed fortunate, in the Netherlands fifteen years ago and in the United Kingdom now. Our model of social medicine which is free and accessible to everyone at the point of need, is the epitome of human civilisation that could pass for a human right.

I am fortunate to be European because anywhere else would have cost a fortune to diagnose and treat cancer, some running out of money before anything effective could be done. Sometimes, we do not realise how precious health is until it is touched by infirmity, there but for the grace of God go I.