On July 20th this year, I did the 5k Race for Life with my best friend and ran it (well, jogged and walked it) in honour of my sister-in-law’s father. He was diagnosed with liver cancer nearly 3 years ago, when my sister-in-law was pregnant with her daughter, who is now 2 1/2.
Due to the placement of the tumour they were unable to remove it, they discovered that during surgery and had to close him up and wake him up to tell him. He was given a pessimistic prognosis but offered a new, very expensive drug (think £10,000 per cycle). The difference in him was amazing – his appetite came back, he put on weight and while he was never able to return to work, he had more energy and was able to do jobs around the house and around my brothers house (completely re-did their garden). They’ve been monitoring him regularly and he went for the results of his latest scan yesterday.
They told him it has now spread to his stomach and that they feel there is nothing more than can do. They told him they are stopping treatment, but that’s basically a death sentence – he’s going back next week to tell them that he wants more treatment, he’s not ready to give up yet. Without it he might not see Christmas. If he does, we don’t know what sort of state he’s going to be in.
I know this isn’t my usual type of post, but I didn’t have the heart to publish the post I planned to today. It just seemed silly. So I wanted to write about him. David, who is 56 years old. He’s been on borrowed time for nearly 3 years, but he’s seen his two grandchildren be born. His grandson has been named after him. Before he was diagnosed he walked his daughter down the aisle. It’s too early, it’s always too early, but he is an incredibly brave and strong man who will keep fighting until the end.
Here’s to you, David ❤









