Back in the 90s I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had a mastectomy, 6 months of chemotherapy and five weeks of radiotherapy. The doctor told me that if the cancer came back it would be bad news, because there was no cure for ‘secondaries’. It would only be a matter of time before I died. Naturally, I decided it wouldn’t come back – surely, lightning wouldn’t strike twice? – and I got on with my life.

Eighteen years later I felt fairly bullet-proof. In those intervening years several friends had died due to cancer but I was still going on, strong (sort of) and healthy (sort of). Then a couple of weeks ago (the day before my son’s gorgeous wedding) the doc told me a recent x-ray had shown cancer in my left ribs. Insert some cussin’ and fussin’. Either I have developed a brand new cancer or the old one has finally come back.

At first I figured that meant this might be my last Christmas. I couldn’t get a handle on dying. I can’t picture myself not here. I cried a bit. I panicked a bit. I prayed a lot. Then I saw a specialist who gave me hope. If it’s the old one back (and that’s the more likely) then because it’s taken so long to resurface it isn’t ‘aggressive’. In fact, as far as cancer goes, it’s really rather wimpy. He thinks they’ll be able to control/maintain it for years. He even said, “Who knows, you could have another 18 years.” My first thought was, YEAH! Then I thought, Actually that doesn’t sound very long. I’m going for more. I’ve had a bunch of scans and in a couple of days’ time another specialist will tell me what they show and then tell me what our plan of attack is going to be.

You see, I’m too busy to be sick. I have books to write and get published and all that takes time! I need my grandchildren to do some growing up so they can not only understand what’s happening, but will be able to remember me when I finally shoot through. I don’t want to leave my husband just yet, he’d get lonely. And, I’ve always promised myself one more trip to Disneyland and the Alamo in San Antonio. As we’re broke, it’ll take years to get the money together for that trip; especially if I want to go Business class this time. (Travelling cattle-class just about killed me!) I’m hoping the money from the film rights for my story will help pay for the tickets…or Reader’s Digest finally comes through with the big money!

So, dear publishing world, don’t let this little set-back put you off taking my book(s). I intend to hang around for years to come. Don’t worry dear readers I’ll be blogging for yonks, and I promise it won’t be all about cancer. If that lousy disease wants a fight it’s come to the right person. I’m stubborn as all-get-out; I fight dirty; I’m not afraid to use my teeth, nails and whatever weapon is handy, and I don’t give in easily. Come on, you b**tard, bring it! *Bares her teeth, waves fist threateningly and hitches up pants.*