Carpe Diem

So: we have arrived in March - autumn down here in the southern hemisphere, spring up there in the north. Today (11th) is Darcey's sixth birthday and she has merrily trotted off to school with a head full of birthday loveliness. These milestones are important in every family but for us they hold further weight as Keith sees them as goals, dates to make, to be alive for. Darcey's birthday was the first goal this year, then it will be his in May and then the World Cup in June. He has also said he wants to make sure he is around to see England regain The Ashes but I had to draw the line there and say with love darling that might be a bit of a push.

We are on the brink of Keith making the decision to stop chemotherapy. He's petrified about stopping, but in the same moment utterly aware that there is much more of worth to be achieved without the mental and physical debilitation chemo brings. It comes down to the good old mantra of embracing the moment, living in the now. For Keith to do that he has to accept the responsibilities for his decisions and actions. Unless he is told by a doctor to give up treatment (and this hasn't happened yet) it will be entirely his decision to do so, and making a decision like that requires strength that he has very little of right now. He is visualising it like this: to spend x amount of time living (potentially) a better quality of life or y amount of time continuing treatment when x is probably less than y, and never knowing what the difference is between them. He knows how I feel. I want him to give it up. I hate seeing what the chemo does to him and I don't want him to go through it any more. Yet I recognise so deeply how much it mentally supports him. There's no right decision.

On the plus side I have seen a subtle improvement in Keith's willingness to embrace time and the now. Given that it is likely he is stopping chemo we have started planning a trip back to the UK. We are going to take the girls to London and show them together all the places we know and help create some memories for them. We are going to take them to Disneyland Paris and watch them explode with joy meeting their favourite princesses (i.e. all of them). Keith has called this his "last trip" and whether it is or not is irrelevant, it's how we approach it that matters. We are accountable for this time we spend together, and health permitting we will squeeze every last bit of meaning from it. I don't think there's any such thing as wasted time but I do think it can be misused and if Keith is determined to have a go at living without treatment I'll be damned if I don't make the best use of our days together. Noone else is going to do this for me, we are going to have to do it ourselves. But you know me, I love a bit of a challenge, and if that means I get to take the kids to Buckingham Palace (we must get new dresses to meet the queen says Florence) then I think I might enjoy that.

Seeing as we've had some maths already in this blog I'm going to finish with some Latin to balance things out. Note excellent reference to wine: those Roman dudes totes knew how to party. Sending love from Sydney, peace out friends xxxx

Do not inquire (we are not allowed to know) what end the gods have assigned to you and what to me, Leuconoe, and do not meddle with Babylonian horoscopes. How much better to endure whatever it proves to be, whether Jupiter has granted us more winters, or this is the last that now wears out the Etruscan Sea against cliffs of pumice. Take my advice, strain the wine and cut back far-reaching hopes to within a small space. As we talk, grudging time will have run on. Seize the day, trusting as little as possible in tomorrow. Horace Odes 1.11