difficulty, that the final post won’t ever get writ.
I’d like my posts to have an ending, so I’m going to make this my final one – maybe.
While the doctors haven’t expressed an opinion,
I think it’s possible I haven’t got long to go, because
I’ve lost 15 kg, and last Friday’s CT scan showed that I’ve got secondaries on the go in my bones (as we already anticipated from the
high ALP levels measured over the past weeks);
my platelet count is very low, so they suspect that my bone marrow may be having trouble with cancer cells. On Monday they
propose to take a bone marrow sample to find out what’s going on.
My extreme breathlessness continues – lying still in bed is fine, but getting out of bed onto the commode
and back feels afterwards rather like a marathon.
Maybe I’ll pull through, but let’s tentatively wrap up my blog-posts now.
There’s lots I could write, but the way I’d like to stop is by pointing you to the writings of
someone else.
Max Edwards
wrote a piece for the Guardian about his own cancer, and much of what he writes resonates
for me. He was a remarkably eloquent writer.
Thanks for reading!

