The Last of Me?

Saturday 21st February 2026

That is the day on which I will have officially lived longer than expected by the clinical oncologist who has taken on the unenviable task of keeping this terminal cancer patient alive (and often well) for over three years now.  Being given under a year to live is significant as this approximation is accompanied by a bureaucratic process that expedites boring but necessary stuff like applying for various benefits, blue badges and such.  It anticipates the kind of decline that I have, indeed, experienced.  Since that prognosis (which followed some very worrying scan results) I’ve gained enough steroid weight to move me from a small to extra large and it’s not wrong to say it looks like I’ve let myself go and need a whole new wardrobe.  This has been accompanied by a gradual but noticeable decline in mobility – not just because I’ve gained weight, but because I’m now at risk of brain bleeds, strokes, seizures and those steroids seem to be staving them off.  It’s like taking the opposite of those weight loss jabs, but I can’t exactly refuse these drugs that are keeping me alive.  When alarm did happen in the form of a special kind of blood clot called a pulmonary embolism (across the heart/lungs) I was, by all accounts, so close to dropping dead that my doctor is still quite surprised to see me turning up to appointments.  Recovering from this embolism has been accompanied by a good deal of fluid on my lungs and on a good day, I can get out and do most things, but at a snail’s pace; On a bad day, I can’t get through a sentence.  On a good day, my daily prescribed morphine dose is enough for me to feel perfectly comfortable;  On a bad day, it doesn’t touch the sides, most recently with regular back spasms. These hurt a lot.

Of course, my downward trajectory is not exactly set in stone.  It’s concerning that the main line of chemotherapy I’ve been taking in tablet form for the past three months appears not to be working and blood markers indicate that I have more active cancer taking up residence in my major organs by a factor over 100 than in the summer.  I’ll need a scan to determine what exactly is going on but at some point quite soon, my luck with cancer not causing the kind of trouble that will kill me directly and/or instantly will run out.  All of this has been on the table for some time and there is at least one more line of treatment available before I even enter the realm of clinical trials or even stopping treatment.  But I hope I can be forgiven for not wanting to think too far past the next two months.

After all, this autumn into winter, I’ve already made it through a number of significant dates and events that I really wasn’t sure I’d see, even though the pace has been much more physically sedate than before.  It’s included trips to west end theatres, Michelin starred restaurants, multiple visits to Parliament, mentions all over the media, award ceremonies, conference speeches and a good few concerts, whilst going through all the above health issues and two different kinds of chemo at the same time.

I made it to my 40th birthday and (barring an extremely rapid decline of some kind) will survive another Christmas and New year.  I write this about to preside over my third Christmas service with the brass band and have only occasionally needed to cancel tentatively made social plans, even though these are all taking more out of me than I thought possible.  A bit of a joke made at exactly this time last year that I was booked for this year’s seems to have come good.

With the best will in the world, that joke isn’t filled with much levity this time around.  I can well believe that, whatever happens, I can expect to survive single figure months at best and right here is my last December 21st, let alone February 21st and that I’ve already seen the sun set on my last summer’s day.  In this festive season filled with parties and gatherings, there will be people I’m about to see for the very last time.  Things I can do now that will literally be out of my reach within weeks or maybe even days.  I am under no illusions – my end game is playing out in the way that many people will have assumed it was two or three years ago.  Physically, that’s difficult to live with.

But at the same time, I can’t quite imagine being dead within the next two months.  I can still look after myself to the point that I don’t yet need any carers and (though the back spasms may have something to say about this) I don’t quite need that hospital bed at home that I keep being offered.

However, as optimistic as I’m constantly trying to be, I hope I can be forgiven for front loading the next few iterations of ‘something to look forward to’ in 2026:

Wednesday 4th February

If there’s one more show I hope to make a success, it’s this one for World Cancer Day, where I’ll both host and play some of the songs from the solo album that has spent over a year in the ether without a launch gig.  It should have come as no surprise that ten songs about cancer and death would be difficult to promote, but with the help of a few friends from various walks of life and entertainment, we’ve got around 400 seats to sell and all the proceeds will go to my partner charity, Macmillan Cancer Support. This is going to be special! You will hopefully recognise some of the names on the Bill – it looks like it’s not easy to say no to someone with a terminal illness when asked to be part of what may well be their last gig!

https://www.kingsplace.co.uk/whats-on/words/not-today-cancer

Sunday 8th February

For at least two decades, I’ve had a liking for Gustav Mahler’s Symphony of a Thousand. Well – in the newfound spirit of ‘don’t ask, don’t get’ I approached local conductor Tom Kilworth, who is taking on the most ambitious task of putting this on, in a hall in Croydon.  Depending on how the rehearsal weekend goes, I may well end up conducting a bit of the rehearsal and in any case, take a place in the on or off-stage brass section.  Proceeds for this concert also will go to Macmillan Cancer Support.

https://www.fairfield.co.uk/events/mahler-symphony-2026

Friday 13th February 

Filthy Militia is the Ska-Punk Band that have essentially adopted me ever since I covered Mike’s paternity leave a couple of summers ago.  We’ve recently recorded an album and, given the breathing difficulties, I really am glad this was in the earlier part of summer.  Hopefully if I can perch on a bar stool, I’ll be able to take as full a part in this as possible.

If this is more your scene, I hope to see you at the *New Cross Inn* along with the entire London Ska-Punk scene.

Saturday 21st  February

The anniversary of my being given a year to live.  How does one celebrate such an occasion?! Suggestions welcome

And before anyone says ‘by living another year’ or some such denialism level optimism, that would be lovely wouldn’t it…if only these thoughts had any basis in the reality of the situation…

But for now, I’ll get on with gearing myself up for all the above and allow absolutely no one, no matter how many Paralympic medals they’ve got, to claim that I’m in any way suicidal or giving up on life.  If you can even begin to think that, you don’t know me.  At the risk of finishing with too much of a cliche, it really feels like I’m writing my life’s final chapter.  And it’s going to be just as gripping, and maybe even more compelling than the rest.