First, an apology. I haven’t been very good at updating this website lately. In fact, it has been nearly three months since my last blog post, and three months is a very significant amount of time when you’re living with cancer.

It is the standard duration for a full course of chemotherapy for one. Why three months? Well, each cycle is often three weeks long and usually involves four to eight total cycles. Doctors often prefer the shorter time because it causes fewer side effects and, for many cancers, works just as well as a six-month course.

When I last spoke to you, I had just completed four cycles of my latest chemo plan. I was halfway there, but the side effects had become so severe that my oncologist had to stop the treatment to allow my body to recover.

Fast-forward three months, and my body has healed. However, I’m told that my colitis is going to be a lifelong condition. The only permanent cure for this is to have the entire colon removed (which is only done in severe cases), although symptoms can usually be managed with medication designed to achieve long periods in remission.

Out of the two, I’ll take my chances with the medication, but it does mean I will need regular blood tests to check my kidney function because these medications can cause kidney issues (and mine are already damaged from all the chemotherapy I’ve had).

Three months was also all the doctors were prepared to give me when I was diagnosed with advanced oesophageal cancer (cancer of the food pipe) in July, 2023. So, for those nearing the end of their life, like I was, three months can represent a large portion of their remaining time. Still, I have never particularly liked the idea that the end of a person’s life can be a measurable timeline, even if it is only ever going to be an educated guess. The best anyone can do is take an educated guess based on averages and your specific situation.

I was always determined to prove them wrong and, like me, people are now living for years, or even decades, beyond their initial prognoses. Stage 4 cancer may have used to be considered an immediate death sentence, but today, many oncologists view it more like a chronic (long-lasting), controllable illness.

What’s your favourite scary movie?

Finding out that you are going to die from your cancer is very scary (and that’s putting it mildly). It’s completely normal to feel shocked, angry, and sad. That was me. Over time though, I’ve been able to move past that initial fear, and I eventually reached a sense of acceptance. It doesn’t mean that I feel any better about leaving my loved ones behind, but it has given me a chance to focus on the things that matter most in my life. That is what living with cancer means to me.

I’m glad I had that initial prognosis (estimated life expectancy) because it helped me prepare for my death, financially and legally at least, but you should think of it like a weather forecast. It is never guaranteed. It tries to predict what will happen based on current conditions, but it is often wrong because, like the weather, these can change.

So, three months can feel like both a short period and a long chapter. Cancer can make time feel distorted, and the concept of time can feel very different depending on where in the journey you are. Weeks can fly by and then suddenly slow down significantly when dealing with pain, fatigue, or recovery. For me, those three months felt like an eternity. Every second went on forever, making time feel as though it was moving painfully in slow motion, especially when I was in hospital.

I’ll try not to leave it so long in between blog posts next time though. I’m so grateful that people keep coming back here. I’ve been getting lots of traffic and new subscribers without posting anything new. In fact, my stats have been booming! I now have readers in over fifty countries around the world, which is amazing really. My blog is now a global brand, and that’s a very big deal!

Time can also feel like it is slowing down when you are waiting for cancer scans and results (doctors call this “scanxiety”). This is often an intensely emotional period accompanied by worry, fear, and anxiety, and it is completely normal to feel out of control for a few weeks. It was actually quite distressing to me to have my cancer treatment stopped early, not because it had been successful and I was done, but because the side effects were too harsh on my body.

Cancer treatment may not be pleasant, but it acts like a safety net, and losing the very thing that was fighting the disease can feel incredibly overwhelming. It isn’t that I’ve ever lost hope. I believe in the things I’m doing and, over time, I’ve learned to gain confidence in my health. It’s just that, when the treatment stopped, I felt more nervous… exposed. It was as though my brain was focused entirely on the threat, and every little ache or pain felt dangerous. When you don’t know what’s happening inside your body, you become hyper-aware of all these details.

Just the facts, ma’am

You can imagine my relief and joy then when my oncologist told me that my cancer was responding very well indeed. I had been worried about not being on any active treatment. And I was convinced that there was going to be some cancer progression; that he was going to tell me the tumours were larger or new spots had appeared. Not so.

The two tumours on my peritoneum (the membrane lining the abdomen) have actually shrunk by fifty percent, which means that the cancer cells are dying (the body’s immune system then cleans up these dead cells, making the tumour smaller). Usually, this is a sign that the treatment is working, but, then again, I’m not receiving any treatment. This had my oncologist completely baffled. So, what happened?

Well, the short answer is, we don’t know. The most likely explanation is that my immune system “woke-up” and started attacking the tumours. It’s as though my body suddenly figured out that these cells are bad. And started destroying them – The other, less likely scenario, is that the cancer cells triggered a natural signal that forced them to self-destruct (a process called apoptosis).

This is where it gets… interesting. Cancer is unpredictable. There are even extremely rare cases (about twelve to twenty-four per year worldwide) where cancer tumours shrink without any medical treatment at all. This is called spontaneous regression, and scientists don’t know exactly why that happens either. I don’t think that is what happened here, but it’s a fascinating topic nevertheless that is regularly studied to create better, smarter treatments. It mostly happens with certain cancers, and research suggests that the immune system plays a big role. In fact, it often follows a severe bacterial or viral infection when the body’s natural immunity gets a boost and goes after the cancer cells as well as the germs. It’s a very real phenomenon… but I wouldn’t recommend it as a reliable treatment plan.

It did get me thinking though about other ways I could boost my immune system though, and I began to seek out some new vitamins and minerals that might help. Now, if you asked me if I thought over-the-counter dietary supplements could shrink cancer tumours, I would have told you no. I have always used supplements alongside my cancer treatments (never instead of), but I have done so primarily to reduce side effects and improve the quality of my life.

This changed, however, when my treatment was stopped. I decided that I wanted to make my immune system as strong as possible because that was going to give me the best chance of living longer. It was encouraging that the tumours had stopped growing on my last scan, but I know that they can grow back fast. I wanted to see some shrinkage. I already eat plenty of nourishing foods that are going to keep my immune system healthy and strong. Now, I want to weaponise it to detect and destroy. The old saying “an apple a day keeps the doctor away,” might have some truth behind it, after all.

There isn’t room to go into detail here about the changes I have made, so I’ll save this for my next post (coming soon). That’s the disadvantage of a blog. While there isn’t really an ideal blog post length, I try to keep mine around 1,400-1,500 words. That’s my “sweet spot”. To me, it balances substance with readability… but if you want longer content, then drop me a message below. Don’t forget, you can also follow me on Facebook here: Page Link

Final thought

I was, of course, quoting the famous line from the movie Jaws earlier, which is actually my favourite movie of all time. Chief Brody (played by the excellent Roy Scheider) says this just after catching his first real look at the massive great white shark, but people often misquote it as “we’re,” when the exact line is: “You’re gonna need a bigger boat”. The line wasn’t even in the script! The crew used it on set as an inside joke because their camera boats were always too small. Director Steven Spielberg loved it so much that he kept it in the film.

Th-Th-Th-That’s all folks (for now).