Bernie Foran (my oncologist) called me 10 minutes ago from Weston Park Hospital.  My appointment for tomorrow had been put back 2 weeks, but I asked them to let me know my MRI scan results as soon as they have them.

They have them. They're fine.  And that means - SO AM I !!

I'm told the term for this is complete remission (thanks to Hayley for that).  I checked through my diary earlier today - and from my confirmation of diagnosis to today has been almost 9 months.  Its been a hell of a journey, and obviously a journey that will continue until I'm back to normal (yes ok, Ive never been 'normal' ).

Of course I can never forget what the last 9 months have been about.  I have lots of physical reminders, a chin like Buzz Lightyear at the moment with the lymphodoema and a huge scar from ear to chin.  I've obviously lost a lot of weight, but feel and look stacks better for that.  I  lost a large nerve in my shoulder that means the kids now really enjoy tapping me on the shoulder and knowing I won't turn round (nice to be the source of entertainment eh!!) 

I also have no feeling in the left side of my face.  I can't lift my left arm over my head anymore - which means that Michael Phelps can rest easy knowing that I won't be challenging his Olympic record of 7 golds in the pool anytime soon.  I also have a tiny scar in my stomach - a permanent reminder of the PEG feeding tube that kept me alive for 5 months.  My mouth and throat are extremely dry these days as a result of losing a number of saliva glands which means that I no longer enjoy my food the way I used to - I have to wash pretty much everything down with a sip of water now.  (Although I will give a mention here to Julie who promised me Beef Wellington right here on this blog and duly delivered on Saturday night with the best meal I've had since I started eating again - thanks Julie it was gorgeous)

On top of that there are the mental scars.  I dream a lot about chemotherapy, and being told I have cancer, or its back.  I get really upset when I see people going through what I've been through, and even more so when I realise just how lucky I've been.  My good mate Dazzy G said to me on Saturday - 'How does it feel to have cheated death?'  (He was slightly drunk at the time)  It seemed a little premature to be asking, especially as I was still waiting for the MRI results so I didn't really give him much of an answer.  And I still don't want to tempt fate by doing so.

I'm in remission - yes.  I won't feel like I've cheated anything until I've been discharged in 4 years time - and even then I will always wonder.  And nothing anybody can say to me will make that go away.

I will admit something on here now and its something I never told my Mum and Dad about for obvious reasons.  When I was diagnosed by Mr Durham, the brilliant consultant who operated on my neck on Christmas Eve I asked him what would be my prognosis if I didn't have the surgery/treatment.  He gave me 6 months 'maybe slightly more'.  Which means that there would have been an excellent chance that I wouldn't be here right now.

I never once allowed myself to believe the treatment wouldn't be successful.  I had brief fleeting moments when I considered writing letters for the kids 18th/21st birthdays, and Gina's wedding speech (should she get married one day).  But I never did - because I thought that would be like giving in. 

I've just read back what I've put so far - and I'm sorry if it seem's a little downbeat.  Obviously I'm absolutely delighted with today's outcome.  Now isn't a time to look back - it's time to look forward.

And I would encourage all of you to do the same - please humour me and stop what you are doing for the next 10 minutes.  Then, consider how you would feel if you had been told there is a chance you might not be here in 6 months time.  Would you do anything differently? If the answer is yes - then stop what you are doing, and do that different thing.  (Cliche time) - this is not a dress rehearsal - its your life, you only get one (unless your a Hindu!).  Don't put up with things that make you unhappy - change them. I mean it.

And then do me a favour - please. When you make those changes - tell me.  I'm going to need something to keep my mind occupied now that I can stop worrying so much about this!!

Thank you to everyone who has logged onto this blog.  I have been absolutely staggered at the people who have kept in touch with my progress - I really can't believe there are so many people interested in what happens to me.  In its busiest months over 2000 unique visitors read these pages - thats absolutely unbelieveable.  Yesterday I spoke to a journalist who has discussed with me the possibility of getting these pages published.  So, if you want to save yourself a bob or two - print it off now!!

All the very best to you all

Nigel xx