January 2014, so far not so good. January 14 2000 was also not so good. That’s when it all began, Duffy’s cancer. Chemo and radiotherapy and big surgery and recovery and work and holidays followed that first day of findings and fear. And now Duffy has to endure more pain and surgery, intrusion and inconvenience, yes inconvenience and uncertainty about what the coming weeks and months will bring. Cancer (illness) is so inconvenient and takes up such a lot of time and our time is for us to play and be together, with family and friends, to swim and eat and walk and work, and not spend endless hours waiting in hospitals. But if that is what we have to do to get the best results possible, so that Duffy can keep doing what she does best – live – then we’ll do it.

I’m lucky I’m married to one of the most positive women in the world. She is bright and beautiful, funny, has immense knowledge (never watch University Challenge with her) a great teacher to all who meet her, an absolute inspiration, and the hardest worker I know. She champions me every day. See, lucky me. Given all that is yet to come, she takes hold of her life and goes with it. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t shed many tears, is strong and most of all, she loves her life, she loves living. And if I have anything to do with it, she’ll keep living for at least another forty years. She is also scared. That’s okay. I’m scared too. But it’s okay to be scared. Fear can reside alongside happy, content, excited. Cancer will not take away our excitement. I have no intention of being a carer, I care and will care for Duffy, but I’m a worker, I have my work just as Duffy has hers. We will continue to make work, create and imagine.

The other day, while I was driving around in a rage because I couldn’t quite believe that my darling had cancer again, I took myself back fourteen years and thought about all that has happened since 14th January 2000, specifically all the positive things, I left the negative ones out. I don’t need any more negative energy in my life. There’s been enough death, enough sadness, there will be more, I know. Today I choose to be positive.

Fourteen years ago, our relationship could not be recognised legally. Now we are safe from those who oppose everything we stand for.
Fourteen years ago my parents had only met Stella a week before her diagnosis. Now they have known her for longer than they haven’t.
Fourteen years ago I couldn’t swim. Stella taught me, believed in me.
Fourteen years ago I couldn’t play the ukulele. Now I can.
Fourteen years ago I couldn’t tell the difference between a flameproof casserole dish and one that would shatter into pieces…and did…I’m a good cook now.
Fourteen years ago Facebook and Twitter didn’t exist, so we couldn’t share the way we do.
Fourteen years ago the treatment for breast cancer was not as advanced as it is now.
Fourteen years ago Stella was 36 and I was 40. Sometimes we are wiser.
Fourteen years ago my sister, my only sibling, was still alive, was still well. Who knew that she and Stella would become cancer buddies.
Fourteen years ago I knew I was lucky, but now I know just how lucky I have been, how lucky I am.
Fourteen years ago the NHS was not in the danger it’s in now. I’m grateful to the NHS.
Fourteen years ago I had no idea how strong I could be. And how weak.

During those years we never put Stella’s cancer out of our minds. Every cough, every cold, every ache was accompanied with worry, we just didn’t go on about it. The ‘all clear’ doesn’t exist, we know that. Fourteen years is a substantial time for a cancer free period. Duffy has done extraordinarily well.

Many people have e-mailed with the most generous offers and love and words of support. This is my thank you. The love around the world is incredible. I honestly feel people are with us, carrying us in their hearts and minds. And while we go through our experience, Stella’s experience and my experience, I am well aware that there are a whole lot of people who have similar experiences, life and death and illness and pain and sadness and grief. We know who you are, and we send love and strength. You’re still in our thoughts despite our own derailment.

On 10th December 2000, when Stella’s treatment had finished, when she was exhausted yet energetic, we had our first wedding at home, with a few people, lots of champagne, a feast provided by our guests, rings made by a dear friend in Aotearoa and nice frocks, Stella’s in particular was outstanding. A friend made us a certificate, because there was no legal recognition and no piece of paper to bear witness to our union. This is what it said, these are our words to each other, our promise to each other, framed in our home and in our hearts. This is what we will continue to do, for as long as we can, until we are happy old ladies with a skip in our step, a cheeky grin and a story or two to tell.

Love honour cherish worship adore glorify discuss debate disturb challenge explore travel delight taste exalt enjoy nuffle play swim run jump skate scoot dance eat sleep wake smile laugh cry care dream create magnify identify breathe
keep going – together