Paul. February 21st 2018

Afternoon all,
Going to be a long one this week, plenty has been going on! I feel like I should offer a prize for anyone who actually reads this essay to the end, you've more patience than most!
So let’s start with last week; over the last couple of weeks I’ve been getting really rather tired, like, dog tired, no, worse than that, cat tired? It turns out there’s a side effect of cancer/chemo called Cancer Fatigue which almost impossible to explain to anyone who’s never been through it and equally as difficult to deal with if it affects you. I tried to explain it a bit in my post on the 21st of January but didn’t do a great job. So this has been the primary affliction over the last few weeks, the sudden removal of all the batteries, the flick of switch and the body can do no more, the need to go for a nap and sleeping for 5+ hours without there being anything you can do about it. And boy was it getting old. So when I was speaking to the cancer nurse about it during my chemo a couple of weeks back they agreed that a blood transfusion would be a very good thing, so that was scheduled in for the following Wednesday at 0830, ideal (well, a little early but hey, I’m not really in a position to complain!).
So we arrived at 0845 (fashionably late right?) and it turns out we weren’t booked in at all. Nothing in the book. Hmm, problematic. It was spotted by the eagle eyed lead nurse (I’ve no idea what their official titles are so forgive me those in the know!) that I had been incorrectly noted down for the following day, Thursday. This was a problem as Thursday is chemo day. The long and short of it was that the lead nurse moved a lot of bits and bobs to accommodate me and my blood needs for Wednesday, the only immediate problem being that the blood hadn’t been ordered up, and that takes time.
This time thing was a bit of a problem as we had an appointment at 1500 to see the prof and it was quite an important one as we had quite a few questions to ask… but we figured God’s on the throne, he knows what he’s doing and so Jo and I settled down, enjoyed the 5th floor view and spent a few extra hours in one another’s company, all very pleasant.
Anyway, the blood transfusion went well except it obviously started late and then the second unit took twice as long as the first to navigate its way into my being, which meant we missed the appointment with the prof. Which was a problem as there were other problems afoot which I really wanted to chat to him about. As the day went by there were some other quite bonkers events that shone a bit of a light onto some of the ailments of the NHS as it navigates current staffing and funding crisis but the way that through every single issue that arose (and some were serious) the senior staff members continued to epitomise the very term “professionalism” was an absolute privilege to experience, this incredible organisation really does have some of the most amazing people working for it. Anyway, we went home happy at least that I had more red stuff in me than before and hoping that the fatigue that had been plaguing me would be a thing of the past.
But it didn’t quite work out that way. That night was the first where I couldn’t actually keep up with my breathing – I went to bed, lay on my left side and realised that although I was puffing and panting away I couldn’t keep up, my lungs couldn’t force enough of that oxygen stuff into the new red beans and so I found myself getting more out of breath, not less. Anyway, once I was sat up, lying on my back and had caught up with myself sleep lingered a while but eventually kicked in which leads us nicely to Thursday, chemo day…
Prior to every chemo “shot” (I say shot, they’re such small doses with this new treatment it feels like it compared to before!) the nurse always asks how things have been, so I explained. And I explained it all. Everything I wanted to ask the Prof, my breathing issues from the night before, the lack of difference that the blood had made, the extreme tiredness, the lot. To say she was brilliant was an understatement, she got the doctor in to make sure I was fit for treatment, scans were looked at (and painstakingly explained to those of limited brain power such as myself), my consultant was consulted, other teams were contacted, there was a hive of activity from a plethora of (already very) busy medical staff all working to make sure that the needs of my sudden expulsion of cancer related ailments could be addressed in a suitable timescale, I was even offered a bed so that I could be treated faster (inpatient vs outpatient), it really was like anything they could do they would do to get me seen to. Another reason why I will forever sing the praises of the NHS as long as I still have breath – because without them that breath is a lot harder to come by!
So, the outcome of all this was that I was fine to have treatment, I would be seen by the chest team to see about draining some fluid from the outside of my left lung which would give it more space to …. breathe (sorry, sorry) and the nurse herself suggested that 2 units of blood was probably nowhere near enough considering the cancer I’ve got, the treatment I’m on and the various other ailments that have chosen to afflict this poor, failing body that my soul currently calls home. So I’m awaiting to see if they’ll give me another 2 or maybe 3 units to see if that perks me up to a suitable level to enjoy life a little more.
I hope that explains a little to everyone I've been trying to meet up with why it's been a little tricky to do so - I just tend to be asleep!
I Just want to say thanks again to everyone who has continued to pray for us (and I realise that’s an awful lot of you!) – through everything that’s been going on we’ve known complete peace about it all and have managed to enjoy more than our fair share of good times together for which we’re supremely grateful. Specific things you could pray for over the next couple of weeks would be the draining of the fluid on my lung and some more blood. Hopefully those two things should make the biggest difference to me which would be amazing. I also have a doctor from the palliative care team popping over on Friday to see if there’s anything they can do regarding pain relief (sleeping has been a little sore recently) so it would be great if you could pray they’d come up with something to help with that. It’s nowhere near as major as the other things but would help nonetheless.
A verse from the book of Luke was shared with me by a friend this afternoon which pretty much blew my mind. Bear in mind over the last 24 years or so of being a Christian I’ve probably read the book of Luke dozens and dozens of times but for whatever reason I’d never seen this before, and it is just awesome! As a bit of background before I share it, the great hope for Christians is that when this life on our amazing but rather broken planet is done and dusted the Christian doesn’t die – they just change address. Jesus himself on the cross says to the dying thief next to him “Today you will be with me in paradise” – today! The moment your body gives up the ghost the real you moves home to heaven, to somewhere with no more pain, no more tears, no more broken, cancer infested bodies to contend with – just life as it was supposed to be lived in the first place. It’s a pretty awesome hope to have! One of the ways the Bible explains it is that it’s like a wedding, Jesus is the groom and his church (i.e. the likes of me and everyone else who trusts him) will one day have that perfect relationship with no sin/brokenness/etc in the way, and although that relationship happens the moment you become a Christian it’s not until you get to heaven that it all becomes clear and can be lived the way God intended.
And because it’s a wedding there is food. Oh yes! Being someone who has zero self control and has to gorge himself on any edible morsel left unattended I am quite excited about this prospect! The bible describes this immense meal that it calls “The wedding feast of the lamb” – Jesus being the lamb. Now, back to that verse…. Bear in mind that Jesus is the saviour of the world, the one who went through hell for all who trust him, the one who is in complete control of everything that goes on in this universe (hey, he even created it just by speaking) and the one that DELIGHTS in his people, just listen to what he does when the time for the wedding feast rocks up:
Luke 12: 37 – The servants who are ready and waiting for his return will be rewarded. I tell you the truth, he himself will seat them, put on an apron and serve them as they sit and eat!
So it’s Jesus who whacks a pinny on, gets the serving plates and dishes up the (literally best) meal the universe has ever seen to the likes of me, a sinner who decided Jesus knew what was best for his life when he was 11. That’s pretty amazing no? And it’ll be proper food too – there’s nothing metaphorical about it, new bodies that won’t ever get ill, a physical place, proper food cooked and prepared and proper satisfaction at eating something a 3 star Michelin chef could only dream of (and I bet there’ll be a few of them there too!).
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I find as a follower of Jesus, when you look at what he promises is to come even the darkest days here on earth don’t seem quite as bleak, don’t seem quite as desperate. I’ve had a few of those days and believe me, those days suck. People ask me how I cope, and in one sense it’s pretty straightforward. When I became a Christian I asked Jesus to run my life and to give me help. And he did. What do I do now? I ask Jesus to run my life and to help. And he does. One of the ways he helps is to remind me of what’s to come, the glory that’s coming, that one day all pain will cease, the constant discomfort will seem a distant memory, the constant battle to live a life following him when you’re surrounded by a society that pretty much universally hates Jesus and those who stand for him – it’s going to end. “Look at what’s coming” he says, “it’s worth the pain and I’m using your hardship to achieve things you don’t know the half of yet!”.
Having lived a “normal” life with job, house, family, wife etc as well as being plagued by incurable cancer and being not a huge distance from the end of my earthly tenancy, being a Christian has been the most incredible thing I can imagine. To know guidance on how to live from the author of life, help in work from the one who specifically placed me there, to know hope in the face of death which isn’t far off, to know not even the very best that can happen in this world can even come close to what awaits me once Jesus calls me home… I am content with my lot.
And my lot is to suffer from cancer and die.
And have my address changed to somewhere with no pain, suffering or hardship with life lived as it was supposed to be in the first place.
And have the loved ones who know Jesus follow me there when Jesus calls time on their lives.
I’ll take that.