Tumour diary: Finding strength

Tumour diary: Finding strength

BBC News Online science and technology writer Ivan Noble was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour last August. Since then he has been sharing his experiences in a weekly column.

This week's challenge is chickenpox.

Our little girl was sent home from nursery on Monday with a number of interesting looking spots, confirmed by the doctor that afternoon as chickenpox.

She is bright and breezy and utterly unconcerned - we have not reached the scratching phase yet - so I am not too worried about her, but I am worried she might infect me.

I had chickenpox as a child but apparently there is still the danger that I might contract shingles, caused, I think, by the same virus.

So, until she gets better, I am taking antiviral tablets four times a day on top of the anti-epilepsy drugs I already have and my daily vitamin cocktail.

There is no handbook for how to do this right and, if there is, I am probably too much of a coward to read it

Staying at home to look after her the last two days has meant me seeing a lot more of her than I usually do.

It has been lovely to see her practise her walking, and to enjoy the colourful spectacle of her mealtimes, but it comes at a time when I am finding it tough to find the energy not to get too preoccupied with my forthcoming scan.

I do not think that there is any specific reason not to be optimistic about the results but it is still preying on my mind.

'Chunks of normality'

Now is a very strange time.

At first, when I was diagnosed, I was in a state of shock, but after that I was surprised at how easily I found it to accept that life was suddenly going to be very, very different.

I had treatment to worry about and get on with, and this diary to write.

Dealing with cancer became my job.

But now the chunks of normality that I have had have started me thinking about what it would be like if I did not have to worry about the tumour any more, if I could suddenly stop living in the here and now and make long-term plans.

That is inconceivable, for the time being.

It is very difficult to know what to do for the best.

Whatever happens, I want to be prepared.

'Steady course'

I want to have the emotional strength to complete whatever I have to do with dignity, to rejoice if I have reason to, and if not, to be strong and to leave everyone with positive memories if I do have to make an unscheduled exit.

The trouble is that there just seems to be no way of preparing myself.

I try to steer a steady course between total denial of what is happening to me and excessive pessimism, but I end up swerving all over the place.

There is no handbook for how to do this right and if there is, I am probably too much of a coward to read it.

I desperately want to win this fight, to see more walking and more messy lunchtimes.

I hope that I learn how along the way.

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Your comments

I've enrolled for the Butlins Swimathon, which raises about £2m for the Macmillan Cancer Relief fund. The main challenge, which I've plunged for, is 5,000m (200 lengths) in under three hours. As I was training on Friday night, I thought to myself (you have a lot of time to think, swimming...) "I don't actually know anybody with cancer." It's never actually directly hit my family nor my friends. And then I realised that through his column, I know Ivan. Not very well - even the internet has its limitations, but enough to feel even more determined to make that challenge.

I won't raise millions. And even millions won't help Ivan today. But on 22 March, I'll try and do something about it - inspired, to a large extent, by Ivan. PS Readers wanting to sponsor me, please contact me at [e-mail]
Giacomo O. Squintani, UK

I've just discovered this afternoon your diary. When we read stories like the one that you describe, we can see that through the attitude and optimism we can find the strength necessary to support the adversities of the life. You have given to our lives another sense through your enthusiasm and courage. Go ahead in the life and good luck! P.S. I am sure that I will be reading your column during many, many years.
Edgar Avila, Colombia

I just happened upon your diary as I was doing some research for a high school class I teach. An elderly doctor told me something years ago when I got my diagnosis that made little sense at the time as I was too caught up in the "bad news". He said "It's not the fear of dying that will be difficult, its the fear of living, living with this disease." I understand the wisdom of his words every day now, as I know you do. Life seems more to be about moments lately, rather than years. Stay the course, Ivan!
Ralph Zema, U.S.A.

Hang in there Ivan, I have been diagnosed with cancer three times - each totally independent of the other. Each time, I had to deal with the shock (and to be truthful a little terror) then the routine of the treatment, the pain and trauma of the operation and the various treatments afterwards. It can be beaten however. I have now been free for nearly 10 years. Take heart and enjoy the life you have. Roy.
Roy Philpott, Germany

Dear Mr Noble: I have read your diary extracts for some weeks now and have nothing but admiration for your persistent optimism, you speak of "emotional strength" and "excessive pessimism" - it seems as though you are not giving yourself enough credit! It's simple: you have won every adverse obstacle, so this indicates that if you keep doing what you're doing it's eternal messy lunchtimes and practising walking times to come. All you need to do is make sure the beer is cold and to catch your daughter if she stumbles - the rest will happen predictably as has all along.
Jim Pegman, England

Ivan, I just discovered your online column today and read all your entries back to back. I can't imagine what it must be like to live with cancer but I applaud your positive outlook and hope that it, together with the treatment you are receiving, brings about a remission. The very best wishes and crossed fingers for your upcoming scan. I'm not religious myself, but I'm sending lots of positive thoughts your way.
Melissa, London, UK

What strikes me is how we, as readers of your column, are happy in our ignorance of what the future holds for us. Your column should teach all of us that we are lucky. Lucky firstly in not having to face your current trial and secondly in having the chance to change our priorities without such a terrifying prompt. Unfortunately, I fear that we will all be moved by your experience but still fail to embrace what is really important. Ironically it is you, and others who feel that their futures are less expansive than mine, that see life and love as valuable as they really are. Good luck with your results in March. I am sure that your positive approach will help you recover, and would like to thank you for your remarkable weekly articles.
Andrew Moody, UK

Go for it! My sister used to tell me no matter what it was - work or play - seize the day.
Anne, Ireland

It's impossible to even imagine how you feel and are coping. Small steps, hopefully big leaps - keep up with your column, you're bravery is an inspiration to lots of people. I wish you all the best.
Paul Gordon, Streatham, London

My grandmother died 20 years ago today from brain cancer. Since then, I have read about many advances in treatment for this disease. While I am sad that they were too late for her, I am happy that you've been able to benefit from them and I sincerely hope they help you beat your cancer. I wish you many years of happiness and good health.
Johnna Klukas, Maine, USA

You sound so like me. I have been living with breast cancer and secondaries, bone cancer for five years now. The scans are no problem, the results are another thing. All I can say is enjoy what you have and have something in the future to look forward to. Me I had a limo trip with friends this month, next month a weekend in London at an exhibition, April a friend's baby is due and June a cruise. Enjoy your time here, plan ahead - next week, next month, most importantly keep your sense humour and smile. You can win. I wish you all the best and keep fighting and smiling. Allison
Allison, UK

Hang on in there, Ivan. You've been an incredible inspiration and source of hope to a lot of us out here. Try to stay positive, remember that although you've been given a heavy burden, you've been richly rewarded with a wonderful wife and child. Our prayers will always be with you.
Colin, Yorkshire, UK

Having read ALL you diary pages, I just felt I had to say Thank You. You really put life into perspective. Thanks and Good Luck.
James Jones, UK

There is no 'right' way to go through what you are going through, there is only your way. Trust yourself to manage with dignity whatever comes. Good luck
Sylvia Todd, England