Last entry, now four months ago, saw us in the chasm country, with a fair few plunges into the depths. It’s proved a challenging time, particularly for David, who had an unexpected and devastating reaction to a round of methotrexate which landed him in intensive care during a hospital stay of two weeks. They only told us afterwards, perhaps fortunately, that this could have been an end of road affair …  Sometimes it’s better not to know. Through it all, he continued stoic and positive, and the outcome has justified his optimism. The final PET scan after the last round of chemotherapy gave us the January good news that he is in complete remission from his ‘aggressive’ Stage 4 bone cancer.

 While we know that things like this are not ‘curable’ it is, as our haematologist told us, smiling for once, ‘the best possible outcome.’ We  walked sedately out of his office, but almost danced down the corridor. Also the glad tidings that he is free to travel, so May will see us able to accept the invitation to the opening of the Oberammergau Passion Play, a cherished plan that we thought would have to be scrapped. So we’ll make this just a short trip, and defer the rest of our projected travel until the end of the year. Now while the two nights in a glass igloo in northern Finland is back on the agenda, Iceland we think will have to wait another time, as the chances of much touring in that country in mid-winter ice and snow are really not realistic.

 During these months Christmas came and went, with family visits and gatherings, but it has all passed in a blur of tests, scans, three week chemo cycles, and hospital waiting rooms. What has kept me going, once again, has been writing and editing. Many, many poems about what was happening in our lives:  approximately fifty ‘cancer’ poems in what has now become a collection called ‘A Chronicle of Cancer’. I’m half considering publishing this, mainly because I recall how many people have responded so overwhelmingly to ‘In Due Season’, the poetry collection I wrote the year my much-loved husband died from multiple myeloma, or blood cancer. That book still sells frequently, and I get warm and appreciative letters and emails from people who have found it helpful to read their own thoughts and anguishes articulated in someone else’s words.  So maybe another poetry collection could have a similar value to those going through the experience. Ironic, isn’t it, that I lived through blood cancer with one man, and now bone cancer with another. This time there’s been a better outcome!

It’s been reassuring, during these months, to have had poems published in journals like ‘Studio’, ‘The Mozzie’, ‘tamba’  and ‘Polestar.’ Also I’ve found satisfying the regular magazine production I’ve been involved in: the quarterly ‘Chatline’ for my church, the monthly Newsletter for my Probus Club, but, even more, my co-editor role for the 2019 Friendly Street Poets Anthology. This is a prestige poetry collective, and the annual outcome of the monthly meetings is the Anthology. I’ve found it stimulating and a real pleasure to edit this journal, and I look forward to its launch in April.

So while it’s been stressful – and challenging – the months have also been hard-working and productive.  Probably the best coping mechanism one can have.

It's no wonder that it's been four months since I've updated this web page. An amazing, and in some ways scarifying, four months, that I wouldn't wish on anyone. David, whom I've been engaged to for almost ten years now, had been suffering stray aches and pains for about a year ...   oh well, muscular, we thought. What else can we expect at our advancing years? But eventually got to point of having it checked out more closely ...  A real case of opening floodgates. Soon we were immersed in batteries of tests, Xrays, scans, biopsies, blood tests, CAT scans, PET scans, and a swift move from GP, to muscular/skeletal specialist, to oncologists and finally to the haemotologist, who pronounced the dread 'C' word. Turns out that David has Stage 4 non-Hodgkins Lymphoma (a resurfacing of an old seemingly cured bout of lymphoma about fifteen years ago) which has now wrought a long-awaited vengeance and come back as secondary bone cancer!

Where all this is leading, we don't know. Prognosis uncertain, but now he's into the chemotherapy merry-go-round (more round than merry, I might add) for at least six cycles of 21 days each. Within each three week period, a first few days after being hooked up on a drip in the Cancer Centre while they (his words) 'pump me full of poison,' a few days when he feels OK and then it hits and the next stretch is totally wretched. Finally, for the third week, he feels normal, and then it all starts again with the next cycle.

Immediate implications for our plans were inevitable. Cancelled the planned trips to Canberra and Brisbane for family holidays, and have put our bookings for next year's eight weeks in Germany on hold. Maybe. Maybe not. The advice was not to cancel until we see what impact the chemo is having, but it's all looking very uncertain. David, being David, stays positive and hopeful, and now, having lost all hair, wears a variety of Irish caps, French berets, and beanies and looks quite dashing. Again, to quote: "All I need is a baguette, a bicycle and a string bag of onions for the authentic Gallic look."

Meanwhile, of course,  I write. Always my preferred coping mechanism. So there is a extensive collection of poems that enable me to make a sort of accommodation with our new way of life and expectations. While I haven't circulated any of these, I've been pleased to have some international acceptance of various other short stories, in places as far afield as Malaysia and USA's Idaho, the last of these in a literary journal with a wonderfully quirky title, The Potato Soup Journal'. Great also to have been short-listed for the prestigious ACU Poetry Prize, even though I didn't make it to the $10,000 first prize  (sigh ...) but it did lead to publication in their book, Solace. Also short-listed for the Short Story Prize in the WAM Festival competition. Also have had several poems published in journals like Studio and Polestar, and others accepted in three forthcoming publications. It all compensates for the 'Thank you, enjoyed this, but not suitable for our ....' messages that also come my way. Often.

So what happens next in our lives is very unclear. We soldier on, trusting and praying that all will be well, that the next scans will show a significant reduction in the tumours, and that somehow we'll still be able to fulfill all the plans made for 2020, including my cherished invitation to the opening of the Passion Play in Oberammergau, as an Australian press representative, and time with all the people we were intending to visit. Who knows?

They talk about the merry month of May - and indeed it has been! Lots of activity on the writing front, with a number of acceptances (but hey, let's not overlook the rejections though). Good to have my first international publication, a poem in the Red River Journal in Texas, and an invitation to record it for their podcasts, and other acceptances in  Australian literary journals, such as Tamba , Polestar and The Mozzie. Also a busy month with public speaking, including a series of three sessions with the Holdfast Bay Seniors Club, a great evening with about 80 people for Friends of Lutheran Archives (FoLA) and a very enjoyable week in Melbourne. There I found a wonderfully receptive group at the Deepdene U3A club, and also a chance to talk about my writing in a short guest spot at the Reunion Lunch of Palladians, the alumni association of my old school, the Mac.Robertson Girls' High School. Lovely to have a chance to talk about the impact of my time at that school, and my experiences editing both the annual magazine and the monthly Newsletter, on my later life as a writer ....  However, highlight of the month would have to have been the very positive (4 1/2 stars) review of In Search of Anna in the Books Page of The Advertiser's SAWeekend Magazine. Just a short review, but to have their chief reviewer, Katharine England's commendation on my book was a moment to savour.

Meanwhile we begin the planning for next year's trip, with focus of course on my invitation to be an Australian press representative at the opening of the 2020 Oberammergau Passion Play. We'll attend the play as ordinary tourists later in that month, and between the two do some visiting of German relatives and friends. But before and after those focus events, much other planning. We hope to have time in Iceland, and also travel down the fjord western coast of Norway on a coastal steamer. Possibly a short trip from Oslo to Svalbard, where daughter Felicity's new novel (a brilliant work to be released by Hachette early in 2020) begins and ends. David is contemplating some time in Ireland to continue his Gaelic studies and family background research, while I may spend that extra period in northern Germany. So much world to see, and a sense that some time our travel days will have to end. But not yet ....