​It’s five in the morning...

...and as all too usual these days, I can’t sleep. In a few hours I will be back in Auckland Hospital for another procedure; the placing of a portacath under the skin of my chest. With one end inserted into a large blood vessel, it’s how I’ll receive the cocktail of drugs making up my chemo treatment. Outside it’s still dark and the main road link through the city, glimpsed between buildings during the day, is quiet with just the odd truck looking to get ahead of the rush hour congestion. It’s not a bad time to be up, and when writing it's often when I'm most immersed in teasing out plot lines and getting to know my characters a little better. Lately though and somewhat frustratingly, there’s been more ‘writers block’ and less hitting the keyboard.
 
While still certain I can beat this lousy pancreatic cancer, staying strong is not easy and just like a roller-coaster one second I’m up and hugely positive, the next way down in the dumps. Often my lowest points are after meetings or yet another medical procedure. Don’t get me wrong, every professional I come into contact with is great and clearly has my best interests at heart but it’s the silly little things that seem to affect me most. Stuff like needing to have a bag packed and on standby in case the side-effects of chemo end up with me being rushed into hospital. Even the most well-meaning discussion of hair loss, and wig versus scarves can have me forcing a smile and gritting my teeth. And then there's the fact I can't plan anything, not even a weekend break as I've no idea what my situation will be in a month, let alone three or four. Everything serves as a reminder that while I feel okay at the moment, pretty soon I'll be anything but.
 
Thankfully I have a strong support network led by my very determined and pro-active daughter Beth. I’m also overwhelmed and humbled by the numerous offers of practical and emotional help from our wonderful friends. Meanwhile I try not to think too much about the future. Instead I’m focusing on a week at a time. Today the port, and then Tuesday’s assessment and the first of my six chemo’s the following day. That’s enough for now.