Each year since Quent has been diagnosed, I have bought a "health" diary. If we have appointments, we write the notes from the meeting on the relevant page. When Quent was having his IL-2 treatment, I noted drugs, rigors, side effects and became a little database of trends over the various sessions.
Last year's diary was a blissful waste of money. I didn't write in it once. Who needs to write "everything looks fine" in a book? That's the sort of thing to shout from the rooftops, not put in a journal.
So I am recycling the diary this year. Today we had our first hospital visit of 2011. Although we haven't had the full results yet, Quent's lungs and abdomen are cancer free. They are the riskiest areas and Prof fully expects the rest to be clear too. He's signed us off until July and the diary remains empty. (Hooray!)
So what happens if we still don't write in the diary this year?
Well, now, here's the clever bit. At this point, I enter it into the Turner Prize as a piece of art entitled "Miracle" or "Trial" or something - and the blank pages tell the most amazing story of hope, determination, discovery, faith, kindness and luck. Pickled calf. Dirty bed. Empty diary. I reckon it's got a good chance.
So, dear blog reader, keep your fingers crossed for Quent's lungs and modern art in the making.
