This post was originally published in early October 2019

I’ve been quiet for a while recently (I told you – this replaces my sessions with my beloved friend Heather and I didn’t see her every week!) but I had a really interesting chat with one of my friends at the weekend. He asked me “so what exactly is wrong with you”. Whoa – easy now! This is my blog so no references to chicken legs, dodgy nose, slightly strange eyebrows, etc etc!!

But it is a good question – the easy answer of course is that I have chronic lymphocytic leukaemia (CLL) but when I say that, it really doesn’t tell you anything, does it?

Basically, it’s cancer of the blood that progresses really slowly (that’s the ‘chronic bit’ – in this context, chronic just means it usually gets worse quite slowly). Currently, CLL can’t be cured and is always terminal, sadly. There are treatments which can slow it down (such as steroids, chemotherapy and bone marrow harvesting and replacement) but that’s about quality of life and I guess I’ll come on to that thorny subject at some point in the future. And with medical science advancing at an extraordinary rate, there is always hope.

But what does having CLL actually mean? Well, technically, it means that the body is creating defective and destructive blood cells rather than the healthy blood that the body needs to nourish, repair and strengthen itself. These defective blood cells not only stop the production of healthy blood cells, but they travel round the body infecting and destroying as they go. So, organs get damaged, infections can’t be fought and minor illnesses become a significant danger.

This all causes pain. No other way to put it. You know how you feel with a really bad dose of the flu? Every fibre of your being hurts and you are just physically tired most of the time? It’s a bit like that but the pain is the worst bit. If you’ll pardon the crude words, at its worst, it’s like someone setting a blowtorch to your bollocks. Lovely.

Oh – and you can’t control your body temperature. Your blood’s jobs is to cool and heat the body. And frankly, mine is sitting down on the job. So last week, playing golf in 10 degrees C, I was sweating like Jurgen Klopp’s dentist. Everyone else has got layers on and I’m out in shirt sleeves because I’m roasting away!

Imagine yourself standing in a field facing an army of highly trained fighting units armed to the teeth with the most technologically advanced equipment, backed up by tanks, warplanes and armadas of ships. And you’re standing there with only your courage and bravery – and a pea shooter. Sooner or later, you’re gonna lose – it’s just a matter of how long you can keep the battle going. That’s the CLL battle.

But let’s be clear – that bravery, courage and pig-headed stubbornness can get you a bloody long way – my beloved friend Sandra is in the middle of a stint of chemo that would cower a titan, but she is still fighting like a true commando and her strength and courage is an inspiration to me. I have it easy in comparison to her, I really do. I’ve promised (threatened?) her that we’ll dance through every room in The Hertfordshire G&CC once she has finished her chemo (those of you who have never seen me dance are in for a real treat – Nelson’s Column has more rhythmic movement than I do).

So that paints a fairly grim picture but don’t let that fool you into thinking it’s all doom and gloom. Don’t feel sorry for me – I have a great life. I have the most wonderful friends, devoted family and most of all, magnificent wife. I laugh every day and have no regrets or bitterness.

So that’s CLL. Don’t say I never educate you or tell you anything!

Stay strong. Fight hard. Smile lots.