Zo. Daar zit je te zonnen, in de sneeuw, lekker warm onder je dons, fleece en windstopper, boven op de 135ste berg die je beklommen heb, vijf jaren nadat je verteld werd dat je zou maar drie jaren nog te leven hebben, ook al je de medicatie nam, en slechts maar één zonder. Wat een wonder is dit!
It is now more than five years since I was told in no uncertain terms by a senior urologist working at the Diakonessenhuis hospital in Utrecht in The Netherlands that if I did not take the medication he was prescribing me, I would be dead within a year, and that even if I did, I would likely be dead within three. Another urologist, working at the Wilhelmina Hospital in Nijmegen, who some weeks later offered a second opinion, suggested that three years was maybe a bit pessimistic, adding that five was more likely. Continue reading “New Horizons”
I met a man on Braeriach last Sunday who I recognised from the Facebook, where he has shared his experience of prostate cancer. The next day I got a message from an old school chum, living now on the other side of the big water, seeking advice about his recent diagnosis. Each of us has a very different experience of the disease and our circumstances are very different, but we share something. Continue reading “Prostate Cancer Warriors”
The first victim of cancer is the future. Continue reading “The first victim”
There is a place I always go back to. Continue reading “There is a place I always go back to ….”
Since the start of 2017 I have sought the advice of two Buddhist teachers about how to deal with my condition. As I have often said, the effort is almost entirely mental – although this is now changing somewhat as I feel the effects of the medication not working any more. Continue reading “The Great Moss”