No Change.

28/10/10 8.30pm

“No change.” In different circumstances, talking about bad weather or bad weight or bad grades or right now, Bart Cummings, (sending healing vibes your way Bart), or any disease way worse than mine, those two words could be all bad news. But today, coming from the mouth of my magnificent Neurosurgeon Dr John Sheehy, the same man who went into the head of Mr Alan Jones… they were the best two syllables a girl could hope to hear. She hasn’t grown. She hasn’t moved.

“No change.”

The eye thing isn’t all in my head. Dr Sheehy got me to read the chart and did a basic peripheral test; standing in front of me with a pen, moving it to my extreme right and left, he said, “Yes, that eye’s a bit slow”, and referred me for a comprehensive eye examination… but as far as the tumour is concerned,

“No change. I’ll see you in a year.”

I wanted to jump up and hug him but he’s not that kind of Neurosurgeon.

As we sat in his office, watching him analyse my scans, I noticed the framed poem on his window sill.

I wrote it for him and the rest of the Famous Four, following my third operation.

It made me proud to see it there and it makes me awfully proud to confirm that it’s on the desk of every single one of them.

Here it is. 

Thank-you to all of you who sent me well wishes and prayers. They have been very well received.

And while I'm here, thank-you to Dave, the amazing man who has been with me through all of it and still loves me and my funny face.