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The Road Winds Ever On and On


There's some things you don't want to hear: "This is your captain speaking. There's no need to panic," for instance or "Sir, these tickets are for the flight that left last Saturday," or the one I heard on Tuesday, "Hello Mr. Wright, this is Mr. Samalia. We have your lab results back. I know we have an appointment for Friday, but could you please come and see me at 4:30 tomorrow? Oh... and you'd better bring your wife."

Bugger.

Bridget, who was with me when the phone call came, burst into tears, and, for the first time in this whole process, so did I. Yesterday was another of those extremely long days but in the end it was not so bad. I have, apparently had cancer for as long as 10-12 years. It is aggressive, meaning not so much that it is speedy, but that it shows no scruples about invading organs other than its host. It had moved outside of the prostate and into surrounding tissues, but not extensively and the surgeon is confident that he got all of it. The only warning bell is that one of several lymph nodes taken was cancerous. Only one, but as there is no way of knowing whether other nodes still in my body may have been infected, I'll have blood tests every couple of months from now on which will show up any nefarious activity. If there is anything untoward, it will mean radiotherapy. If the radiotherapy doesn't work, it will mean hormone treatment. These treatments will affect the quality, but not necessarily the length of my life, and there is every chance I am already home free. Yesterday was a calmer night than the one before.

I waddled slowly up to the Roslyn shops this morning, had a celebratory soy latte, then made my way home again walking sort of like ambulatory tai chi. I'll need a wee lie down after all that effort, but there's now a road ahead. Perhaps, God willing, a very long road ahead. Perhaps tomorrow I might slow mo my way up to the Maori Hill shops? Or the botanical gardens? And next week manage a drive to the Catlins? Or that nice little restaurant in Moeraki Village? Or both?

Today, Rhubarb Cafe! Tomorrow, the world!
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Comments

Kathryn said…
So that sneaky, insidious, nasty, secretive and silent thing has been around for so long & you didn't know it! And you were fine and were happy & had a good life.
Now you do know, and the doctors know and they will keep a close eye on things and keep you safe.
I will pray that you have the best of doctors, the best of treatment at every turn in the road, and peace of mind for you and your family while you share your long and happy life.
Thank you God, for answered prayers, and thank you God for prayers still to come.
God Bless you Kelvin, and keep you safe.
I'm glad you're taking it slowly, a little bit at a time. And I will have a latte for you too when I go to the shops today.
In His Love, Kathryn :-)
3 July 2008 at 14:12
Anonymous said…
Remembering you and your dear family in prayer each day.
Brian
3 July 2008 at 17:47
Lynne47 said…
Hi Kelvin, I am Kathryn's sister and she has kept me posted on your journey. I know what you have been through and I hope with every fibre of my being that you are joining the 'Survivor' club of which I am a most thankful, and very proud, member. Stay positive.
God bless you.

Kind regards

Lynne
3 July 2008 at 18:10
Anonymous said…
Kelvin, I am speechless with anger at God right now, for a number of reasons, which include your disquieting news. So, ignoring that, I'm thinking that this blog could be cobbled into a very interesting book (titled "Madly Off In All Directions"?) Personally, I think your ideas about the church are bang-on, and it's a rare cleric who has the nerve to say the truth as he sees it. You are, I believe, an important voice for our times, and I'm sure many people would enjoy seeing you in print with accompanying photographs of course.

Ok, I'll leave you with a joke:

What did the dyslexic devil worshiper do?

He sold his soul to Santa.

Be well!
3 July 2008 at 19:53
Alden Smith said…
Kelvin, I am so very sorry that the results do not give you the full clearance that you obviously had hoped for. It is hard to find the correct words to say in these circumstances but simply believe my dear old friend that I am with you in mind and spirit with this and I shall pray each day for your full recovery just as I know many others will be doing. You are surrounded by loving family, parishioners and friends who love and cherish you in many ways - draw strength and comfort from that if you can.
3 July 2008 at 19:55
Kelvin Wright said…
...and the dyslexic agnostic lying awake all night worrying whether there was a dog...

Please don't be angry with God on my account Janice. Today I am delighted: I have a better than 50 % chance that I Shall never be plagued by this thing again. At the worst I have Some inconvenient treatments and Some lifestyle
adjustments to make-Whatever it is that God has for me to do -ill have time for. And in an odd way the last two weeks have been amongst the richest and most blessed of my life. By the way- How many Anglicans does it take to change a lightbulb ? Answer 1 : CHANGE???
Answer 2: 12-1 to change the bulb and 11 to set up a committee to save the old one
Answer 3: 1001 - 1 to change the bulb and 1000 to go to Jerusalem and talk about why he was wrong to do it
3 July 2008 at 20:52
Anonymous said…
Kelvin, I am still monitoring your progress and despite today’s development, I am so pleased you still have your sense of humour. I can picture you waddling off for a cuppa and can empathise with familiar difficulties with post op. gross motor function while the deeper surgical wounds heal. It is most inconsiderate of others when they try to cheer you up with their attempts at humour as the sheer effort of avoiding laughter and the subsequent use of the required muscles can be most uncomfortable to say the least. The word torture comes to mind as one clutches at the muscles you are trying hard to avoid using. I guess horse riding, hurdling and riding that bike of yours are off the list for a while too. One step at a time.. no pun intended. Each day is a blessing for each and everyone of us and not to be taken for granted. I look forward to the next time you are able to doddle off with a camera around your neck so you may be lost in creativity, they say it is a great healer. Hoping to see your eventual accomplishments posted soon, take care and heal a little more each day .. hugs from Oz .. Susan
3 July 2008 at 22:29
Tony said…
"bother", said Pooh.
zoe and i continue to pray for you each night mate, which will be around elevenses your time.
love to you mate,
tony
4 July 2008 at 02:58
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