On this day last year I was given the shocking news that I only had months to live. I wasn't scared. I didn't cry. I just felt a sense of calm acceptance. If you're a cancer patient, you will know that there is a special room for news of this kind. It's small but has colourful soft furnishings to somehow (literally) soften the blow. The kind nurse called Dean and I back into the 'room of bad news' to help us to digest the information we had been given. He cried. I held his hand and we discussed priorities, like how on earth to tell my Dad (who was waiting outside) that his remaining daughter was dying. There was nothing else to try. It was just left to us to make the most of the precious time we all had left. Mum and Dad were completely devastated and Mum apparently said to my Dad, "what on earth are we going to do now?"
Then fast forward a year and I am wrapping Christmas presents (OK, I know it's ludicrously early) for a Christmas I thought I would never see. I have medical appointments in January, and I just got back from a run. I'm almost human looking. My cheeks have subsided and I now have hair, albeit as my friend described it, "you look like you just got off a motorbike!". I am even doing some work on a flexible basis. Life is good. Safe. Normal. Wow...'normal' is fantastic!
One year at Christmas, Dad bought my beloved late Mum a plaque that said 'Every day is a gift from God'. She absolutely hated it (but that's another story) but to my way of thinking it's absolutely right. I've looked death in the face and it didn't scare me. The last year has been difficult and painful, but also full of blessings. I lost my Mum but was uplifted by the love of friends and family. Every day really is a gift from God and I am grateful to receive it.
Amanda
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