This is dose number 11 of 12 and it’s the day before the last day of 2016. I am joined today by a select band of other chemo patients as we are pumped and primed with good poisons.  We are probably all sharing the same thoughts as well, as we reflect on the year during which we were introduced so personally to the cancer bogie-man.

We are also all likely to be contemplating the year ahead, hoping that it can’t be any more crap than 2016.  We were stupid enough to vote to leave the EU and now have a government who can’t recognise their arse from their elbow or plan for the future.  The most powerful state in the world has elected as its leader, an individual who could turn out to be a political revelation or a demonic loon.  But, most importantly this year we have had cancer and I no longer have an arsehole.  Although, I have become quiet attached to Steve the Stoma who is my inside body, outside friend.

I will start 2017, with what I hope will be my final dose of chemo.  I expect then to continue my recovery and get back to as near a normal life as possible.  First stage will be to check that I am rid of the bogie-man and then to focus on healing my bum wound which still has some small gaps in it.  The kids bought Sam and I a pop-up hot tub for Christmas.  I am looking forward to soaking in it with her (she is a hottie) and a cold beer, but need to heal up and seal up the bum crack, otherwise I will end up taking on water and won’t be able to leave the tub until my bilges are pumped dry.

I also want to take the opportunity next year to (1) finally lose some weight from my fat arse, (2) learn to play a musical instrument, (3) spend less time on Facebook (other than four business purposes), (4) make my businesses more successful, (5) take more photos and (6) try to be a better daddy and husband.  Little of this will happen in reality, but I have to have goals.

I would like you to do one thing at least in 2017.  If at any time you feel that your body has changed or is behaving differently to normal, speak to someone (ideally a medical professional) about it and get it checked out.  It will probably be nothing, but just in case, be sure.

My biggest hope for 2017, is that none of my family and friends have to go through this shit and I will do everything I can to make that happen.

Happy New Year

Andrew Williams

50 year old, living with his colon and bowel cancer and all that that entails. Quietly sweary, family man living in Somerset, UK.

Comments 4

  1. Happy new year Andrew, hope the new year is a better Craic than the last, and mate look at all those celebrity dudes you have outlasted already hope to catch up for a pint when I’m back in blighty

  2. Thank you for your blog. Kept me entertained and kept me sane throughout my bum cancer knowing I wasn’t the only one going through it! Happy new year x

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