Good news all round!

Those bottles of Dom Perignon, Moet, and Laurent Perrier that have been on ice since last week, can now well and truly be popped.

The news yesterday was a confirmation of last week's preliminary results - ALL CLEAR. I'm therefore in complete remission now. I will however need regular monthly check-ups - scans, x-rays, blood tests - for the first year, and then less frequently after year 1.

What's especially positive is that my lymph nodes have returned to normal, and I therefore won't require a further operation (thank heavens for that!). So far everything has gone my way - let's hope it stays that way.

As I say, I will need to be closely monitored in the first year, as a re-occurrence is most likely in year 1, with the chances diminishing after the initial year. So, although a year of great uncertainty lies ahead for me, I am going to celebrate my "return to full health".

Its quite ironic really, because when I say "return to full health", I feel nowhere near full health. I guess that's what continues to baffle me about having had cancer - the illness never made me feel unwell, but its the treatment that's caused all the suffering...

...maybe, instead of saying that I'll be celebrating my "return to health", I should rather say that I am celebrating being "Cancer-free", as I'm still living with the following side effects from the grueling treatment:

• Still very exhausted - there are days where I feel inspired to leave the house as a result of a sudden burst of energy, and then there are days when I feel so drained I can barely lift myself off the sofa. Its all very unpredictable. With time this shall pass though.
• Emotionally and mentally, I feel a little unstable right now - my thoughts continually swing back and forth between feeling inspired that I have survived this ordeal, to thinking what happens if it comes back. Despite trying to remain as positive about the whole episode, the negative thoughts sometimes do become too much for me. Here again, time will allow me to come to terms with a future of uncertainty. Another thing that I have started coming to terms with regarding my recovery, is that not only will I have to live with physical scaring, but the mental scarring as well...when my hair and eye-brows have grown back, my scar from the operation appears more faded, and my energy returns, I will still have to live with the fact that I've had cancer.
• Still a little traumatised by my last 5-day stay in the hospital. The vivid memories, and associations do however seem to be less real with each passing day. Although yesterday, upon my return to hospital, the hospital smells of detergent, disinfectant hand-wash, rancid smelling hospital food, triggered an emotional response that took me back to being holed up in that hospital room for a sum total of 20 long days and nights during this non-existent UK summer of ours.
• One of my veins that was used to "plug" me into the IV drip, has become hard, and yesterday it was confirmed that this vein will no longer be functional. Not the end of the world, but it will be just another permanent reminder of what it is that I've been through.
  
• My ears continue to remain blocked, and my tinnitus still persists. I have been researching the tinnitus, and there may be cures out there that I will experiment with.
• My skin remains sensitive. Can barely go outside without getting burnt...not that that should be a concern given the summer we've had. I also bruise very easily, and scabs take ages to heal.
  
• My nerve-endings in my fingers have been damaged from the treatment, so I have partially lost feeling in the tips of my fingers. Not sure this will ever return to normal.
• I also get tingles in the back of my hands and on my feet...here again, this is a result of nerve damage from one of the drugs - Cisplatin, a platinum based drug.
• Constant pounding head-aches, worse then I have ever known...these are becoming less severe though.
• I am still the hair-less wonder, although I can feel the first signs of stubble forming on my head. As for my eyebrows, I can count the number on each side.
  
• There are probably many others that I elude me at this time, but I have become so used to living with them, I have forgotten that they are a side-effect of the chemo.

Away from the scarring, and all the unpleasant things, I wanted to say a massive thanks to all of you for your cards, emails, calls, prayers, and every positive vibe/thought that has been sent my way. While the scarring will live with me forever, so will the support that each and every one of you has provided to Debs and I during this challenging period in our lives.

Bless you all.