Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference

Winston Churchill couldn't have summarised these last few weeks any better. Firstly, we're pleased to report that Ian has a bed waiting for him in a local hospice, we're now waiting for an infection in the hospital ward (not in Ian!) to pass before he's allowed to go. Secondly, we'd like to reflect on those words from Winston.

Throughout Ian's battle against the strongest opponent of his life, he has continued to maintain a stoic positivity and optimism that only he can project. We hope you have seen this through his blog. His and our attitude has not wavered in these last few weeks as we have all come to terms with the realisation that the scientifically engineered tools used to fight against this strongest of opponents have now been replaced by the less scientifically, but equally engineered and effective tools of: love, faith, positivity, and down right determination.

This allows us as a family to experience some wonderful moments of clarity and obscurity in equal measure as we sit with Ian. It allows us to laugh and joke as Ian himself realises the chemical concoction in his brain has made him hallucinate the strangest of things. It allows us to have thoughtful, insightful and meaningful conversations covering all kinds of topics.

Maintaining this positive attitude has made, and continues to make, the biggest difference in this battle. We are truly fortunate to be led so inextricably in this by Ian.

With Love,
iDASH

Arrows of Time

We would first like to let the readers of Ian's Blog know that it will now be a collaboration of his family, with Ian maintaining his careful oversight.

Whilst Diana has been making a second home by Ian's bed supporting him with the love, care and attention only she can give, they have discovered how their perception of time has shifted. Or rather they have discovered new arrows of time in their Universe.

Ian's time is like being a constant centripetal force holding events and people around him with their own varying angular velocities. A bit like being the cog in the centre of a spinning (and bent) bicycle wheel. These events include a school bell being rung for meal times and the nurses coming round doing their regular checks (as well as, among other things, hallucinating ice cream vans!). The people spinning around Ian include family and friends who send their messages of love and support, as well as those who visit, which keep Ian going through the low and high velocities he perceives from the centre of his bicycle wheel.

Diana's time is a lot more one-dimensional, with an ever changing state of energy. Time is transient as she commutes daily between home and the hospital, but slows to almost a standstill when she is at Ian's side, sometimes with the presence of time itself vanishing. Anywhere else, time becomes more radiative, with the ebb and flow of (almost) normal life speeding up and slowing down time.

As you can hopefully infer from all that blabber, Ian is still in hospital being cared for by the wonderful people that make the NHS work. We are hoping to get him to a hospice next week or even get him home at the Manor House using a "care package" of a hospital bed coupled with frequent visits from Nurses - but as we all know, the arrow (or source) of time in the NHS is quantum (or uncertain)!!

With love,
iDASH

A change in the wind...

Hello all, this is Ian's children typing. 

We're sad to report Ian's journey has changed course, and he will be stopping treatment from now on. He's currently in hospital, having had fluid drained from his lungs and abdomen, awaiting a bed to become available at a local hospice so that he can be looked after more comfortably closer to home.

There is no prognosis at this time, with the fluid build up resulting from the progression of his disease and the treatment no longer being effective. We're told the fluid is likely to return, although we don't know how long it will be until it does. Ian continues to fight in the same positive spirit that we continue to admire him for.

Ian, Diana, and ourselves would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for your continued love, support, prayers, and thoughts. 

A, S, and H 

A challenging road

Well, so this is what they mean by long term chemotherapy. It's been a really challenging week. Diana's been marvelous as I've been shattered, almost like wearing a heavy blanket permanently holding me down, no matter how "enthusiastic" I might be to get up and get on. We're used to a low period early in the first week, but this time it's taken to today (Sunday) for the  blanket to slip of.

Still, we know Avastin is a powerful drug, with excellent results, so we have to hope it's doing its job and I can withstand these side effects for a while longer; although we hope to discuss any mitigation of these effects tomorrow in the clinic.

So it's critical for us to realise these *are* side effects, and - as far as we can know - not the cancer. My next scans are at the end of the month, when we will know if they are, or not.

Meanwhile I hope this better feeling stays with me till the next cycle begins.

The slower road

I'm pleased to say therapy went well on Thursday; the sun coming out over the Carousel just in time on Wednesday. But, maybe inevitably, the expected high over the weekend has been a little lower than before. Energy levels down (thankfully not mental - day spent doing village hall accounts!) and a sense of slowness.

And that set me thinking, as I added up and took away... Does it matter how quickly we live our lives?

In the old days, I'd hare off in the car, or train or plane "going places to do stuff", usually very enjoyable and definitely making a difference for fellow architects on their own career paths.

But what about the journey? Eyes forward, on the road or into a laptop, never really aware of the world I was passing through.

Now, living at an enforced slower pace, I can take the time to look left and right, taking in the scenery, the beautiful scenery of the English countryside (metaphor or otherwise!). Not just getting "somewhere", but taking pleasure in the "getting" bit.

So, yes "making a difference" often means "eyes forward" and "focus" working hard to achieve goals and objectives; but there's also room for a little "me time", taking in the world from all directions, and taking time to enjoy what we see.