Well, that was a very 2020-ish sort of week.
Oh, for those heady days of innocence, way back when nobody would have understood what the above sentence meant. Right now, you probably wouldn’t even be surprised if I told you that the neighbourhood had been invaded by hordes of opera-singing purple mega-ants, or that a sinkhole had opened up under Twisted Towers and had swallowed all of my yarn. Fortunately neither of these things has happened… although given that it’s 2020 I should probably say that neither of these things has happened YET.
What has happened is the culmination of a couple of nasties that have been brewing for a while. Thing one is that this week, at the ripe old young age of 47, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Do you have ANY IDEA how hard it is to crochet a breast tumour in order to illustrate this post?! I mean, viruses and bacteria look cute and quirky under the microscope, but breast cancers just look like BLOBS. This is the best I could do. It’s not very good:-
If the universe had bothered to give me a questionnaire asking whether I actually wanted a bunch of mutant cells to have a party in my right breast, I would of course have ticked the ‘NO’ box very firmly indeed. But I wasn’t consulted, so I’ll just have to make the best of things. At least it’ll provide a plausible excuse for lounging on the sofa, sighing melodramatically, and knitting, during the months ahead. (WHADDYA MEAN, “THAT’S ALL I EVER SEEM TO DO ANYWAY”?!) No matter what happens, I’ll still be here, knitting and blogging and chattering with you lovely lot. I’ve got further tests next week, and the results will determine whether treatment will be very un-fun, or very very very un-fun. Fingers crossed…
And if there’s any comic potential to be had from the situation, then rest assured that I will find it and I will drag it outside and I will flog it mercilessly until I’ve extracted every last drop of humour for the purposes of this blog. I can’t help it: that’s just how I’m wired. When things get tricky, my inclination is to make a joke. I should probably see a psychologist about that. Oh wait…
There’ll still be new knitting to show you. Plenty of knitting. I’m very worried about how treatment will affect my running, though. Running has been the saviour of my physical and mental health in these recent perimenopausal years, and I’d really like to keep lolloping across the Oxfordshire countryside. I’d even love to do another marathon.
But for now, I’m fine, the Stoic Spouse is fine, and most importantly, the twinnage know an age-appropriate amount about what’s going on and they seem to be fine so far. Hopefully the cancer will prove to be not too aggressive… although I think I might have just heard it growl. I’m worried about my patients at work, but I’ll use my last few pre-surgery weeks to try and organize things in the best way possible for their benefit.
And I’ll just have to hope that no opera-singing purple mega-ants show up around here, because I really DO NOT HAVE THE ENERGY to deal with those right now.
As for the other tricky thing that’s happening, I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to say publicly quite yet. But I’ll risk saying this: the publisher that commissioned the book on stranded knitting that I’m writing is… um… having a tiny weeny bit of a bankruptcy problem at the moment – or at least, the company that owns the publisher is. So it’s likely that I’ll have to find a new home for my half-done book. I hate to think how many hard-working people are facing redundancy because of this. And I hate to think about what a rubbish time this is for them to be out of work.
2020, eh? What a year!
But let me tell you, there’s nothing like a three-inch-tall bossy-boots tapping on the window to help keep things in perspective. Sinkholes, cancer, bankruptcy, opera-singing ants, none of it matters a jot, as long as Robyn-the-robin gets her breakfast on time. She’s got life sussed, that bird, I tell ya.
Until next time, my fine fibrous friends.
Phil x
Oh my lovely, what a bummer. Hope all goes well. It will be 8yrs since i was diagnosed this bank hol. Treatment is not a walk in the park but we will be with you in spirit. I have found there is a lot of comfort in yarny things – am spinning now!
I have no words – but much much love and good wishes. I love your blog and your positive attitude; but it is OK to wallow now again too. Isn’t that shark a great metaphor for 2020.
Take care
Jane
Ha yes, I hadn’t thought of that but you’re right: shark crashing through roof is a PERFECT metaphor for this year. And thanks for your good wishes.
Hi Phil,
I learned about your breast cancer whilst speaking to your mother last week. This was absolutely not the reply I was anticipating, or of course hoping for, to my question “How’s Phil and family?”! I understand from her that it has been caught early and is very treatable, but I am so sorry that you have to go through the nuisance of surgery and treatment. I do hope that you don’t have to wait long before all this begins, and that all goes boringly smoothly for you. Very best wishes for a speedy return to full health.
Love Jenny xx
Hi Jenny! And thank you so much for this and your lovely email. Yeah crazy times, huh? Thank you for your good wishes. And I hear a little rumour that you’re coming to this neck of the woods in about ten days’ time. Would love to see you if that’s possible??? (I would invite you to stay with us too, but I guess in the circumstances it is best if you stay with Mother Twisted and Father Twisted.) Px
Phil!
2020 is sh!t, cancer is sh!t (ask me how I know ????), BUT I totally agree with you: WE MUST KEEP LAUGHING! Finding the absurdity and ridiculousness of it all and having a damned good guffaw (a guffive on a good day) at it helps enormously.
Obviously, you must do what you need to do as and when you need to do it – and if writing about all the things here is one of them that’s great!
Forward Ho!
Sending love, strength and laughter to you and your family,
Jo
????
Hi Jo, and THANK YOU. One of the sad things about this is quite how many people have stepped forward in response to say “Yup, I’m dealing with this too.” Sigh. Wishing a good outcome for you. And plenty of guffives, too. Px
I think I watched Jason and the Argonauts too often as a child because whenever horrible things happen I always think the Greek gods are looking down and playing with us as we try to go about our lives. They’re having a party in 2020!
I will shake my fist and rail at them on your behalf Phil. This is unacceptable, there is knitting to be done, Robyn to feed and kale to grow, how dare they! ????
Ha, I love it! Please do berate those pesky gods for me… and for all of us really, because 2020 is just a bit too rubbish. May the remaining months of this year shower you with unexpectedly good stuff. Px
Dear Phil, so sorry to hear this. However, many of my friends and family have gone through the same and all have come out ok. My one friend in particular had a great attitude ( like yours) that she will get through this and knitted her way through the whole process, making chemo hats and other various toys to sell for the cancer charity! You’re so brave already about this by posting on your blog, many people would have just gone awol from it. Keep up the positivity, you can do this, we’re all thinking of you!
Your friend sounds absolutely awesome – I hope she has the best possible outcome. And yes, it’s sad but most of us know far too many people who’ve been through this. Thank you for your kind words. Px
Dear Phil, you’re the focus of a big triangulation of positive thoughts and wishes from people like me who feel like we know you! Take good care, that marathon is waiting for you!
Thank you so very much, from the bottom of my heart. I don’t deserve this much kindness, and I’m very humbled by it. Just thank you. Px
I echo everything already said. I’m so sorry and wish you all the best.
Thank you. I seriously appreciate it. Px
Oh my goodness! What a week you’ve had. But still you manage to retain a chirpy outlook in spite of what is happening inside your head. I’m so sorry to hear about your diagnosis but please be assured that these days our wonderful medics are very good at dealing with breast cancer (yes, name and shame it into submission!). I know too many people who have faced this but they have all beaten it. One friend was diagnosed just at the start of lockdown and is well on the way to recovery.
The treatment won’t be much fun, but easier than it used to be, so give yourself time and space to rest and recover.
And maybe the book hiccup will turn out to have a silver lining too. Sometimes in life our yarn turns out to be more twisted than expected, but you knew that anyway. The waiting is the worst and for that there’s knitting, even if your brain becomes fuzzy with worry and needs a simpler pattern.
Wishing you all the best Julie xxx
Thank you, and yes you’re right. Treatments are much better these days and survival rates are impressive. I’m optimistic about outcome, even if the getting there won’t be fun! I know or rather knew too many people who died from this disease, but hopefully my own tumour has been caught in time. Px
Ohmygosh what a real bummer for you. Loving your positive attitude and humour – I wish you all the best for treatment and recovery.
A massive thank you! I appreciate your words. Px
Terrible news for you and your family. I hope, as it sounds like, you have caught it early. I’ll be thinking about you and wishing you all the best. Xxxxx
Thank you. I deeply appreciate your words. For now, I’m feeling optimistic. The treatment won’t be fun, but hopefully the outcome will be. Px
Huh! BC doesn’t realise it’s chosen the wrong person for a fight. But sending a parcel of love and courage to unwrap in the odd moment when it doesn’t feel so funny Jx
Ha ha ha, I love every single word of your comment so very much. Thank you for bringing a smile to my face. Px
Every good wish.???????????????? no Robin emoji but a wise owl like you. No knitting but sheep and of course your garden. ❤️
Thank you. I appreciate your words very much. Px
Dear Phil,
your resilience is amazing! I hope that your treatment goes well and you recover with the minimum of ikk. Your health is what matters and I’m sure that your book will be sorted out soon, it must ‘cos I’m going to buy a copy. I’m sending you beautiful cooling, healing vibes over the ether.
Best wishes
Thank you so much. Seriously. (And yay, I have a potential book sale!!!) Px
Received your newsletter and opened it up expecting the usual quirky view of life and a sprinkling of my type of humour, did not expect your sad news. As you say this type of news can bring out some really dark humour and very inappropriate jokes so I look forward to reading those and seeing you through this. Sending love and light to you and your family ????
Thank you. And don’t worry, there’ll still be jokes. I don’t know how to do things any differently! Px
Yes 2020 will certainly be one to remember. I wish you strength, courage and joy…and keep on knitting through these could-they-possible-get-any-worse? times! Love from spain xx
Thank you. Seriously, thank you. And rest assured that I’ll carry on knitting, no matter what happens. May the remainder of your 2020 be surprisingly good. Px
Praying for you and your family x
Thank you. Px
Like I said on Instagram, Moonpenny, cheering you on from the side lines. Sending loads of positive vibes and channelling destructive thoughts towards the mutant cells. Hoping you get the very best of outcomes. Liz
And like I thought but haven’t yet written in response to your Insta comment, thank you. Seriously, thank you. I appreciate it very much. Px
It’s beyond shit that you have a breast-cancer diagnosis. I hope with every hoping-fibre I have that you will have the best possible outcome in the circumstances and I wish you the strength and courage to accept the support and love of your friends, family and yarn-siblings.
Holding the hope and sending love
Tina x
Thank you for such a warm-hearted comment. You’ve just made me smile a lot. Px
Hello Phil, well you always make my day with your blog posts. Today too had such a great slant to your difficult news. And you have my very best wishes for a successful outcome too. Having never written a comment before just could not hold back on something that my husband and I (250,000 people so far) are having a lot of healthy help from. His name is Anthony William (Medical Medium). The founder of daily celery juice !! His books are wide eye opening. Things to kick out of our diets etc. Etc. And the results that people get are so worth not eating that piece of iced cake (my one weakness). Can not recommend him highly enough for some super positive reading that gives great, huge, enormous help and with genuine concern. You may even have heard of him and this is to let you know it really is helpful. Thinking of you in good health always. Love from VL
Thank you so much for your kind words. I’ll have a look at the Medical Medium. My diet is a mix of very good (home-grown veg and herbs and fruit, green tea, lots of lentils), and very bad (wine, Pepsi Max, cake). But thank you. Px
Sending love and hugs and praying for you and your family ????????
Thank you. Much appreciated. Px
I don’t have the ability to put words onto paper like so many others can but just to say I’m sad to hear your news this week but know that if anyone can do this, you can! Onwards and upwards Phil, you have lots of friends out there routing for you and sending you the best vibes. Hugs for you, your twins and your husband. ????????
Thank you. I deeply appreciate your words. Px
Just adding my love to that which you have received already. I also know several people have come through the breast cancer journey and made a full recovery. I’m so grateful for modern medicine and our wonderful doctors and nurses. I am sending love and positive thoughts, i hope you get reassuring news from the next tests and the treatment won’t be too horrible. I also hope you can find a new publisher too, I am so looking forward to buying your book, whenever that may be, I’m more than happy to wait. xxx
You’re very kind – thank you. And yes, we’re very fortunate to have modern medical knowledge and skills. Px
Full of admiration to your really positive approach to what must have come as a big shock. Wishing you all the very best with your treatment and keep knitting and good luck with the book too.
Thank you Rhian! I appreciate your kind words, I really do. Px
Hi Phil,
I read but don’t comment usually.
I’m in the same boat as you but a little further upstream. I’m an End of Life Soul Doula (ironic in present circumstances) and like yourself had to juggle patients – it’s possible if tricky.
I found that giving my cancer it’s own name, BABC = bastard alien body cancer helps.
I named my stomach ulcers Ernst and Marx as they feel quite Germanic, my hernia is Hooray Hettie and
my Barretts easophogus with it’s desire to keep growing and make me sick is Womiting Wotsits.
Thinking positive thoughts for you.
Lucy – Kent
Lucy, you’re an inspiration! I too am considering names for my tumour. Bob is the current front-runner, although that might cause offence because it’s the name of the perfectly nice bloke who runs our village shop, whose wife is my Facebook friend. I need time to figure this stuff out. I hope that your journey is progressing towards health and that you’re getting the best possible care. My friend is considering training as an end of life doula and I’ve been encouraging her. It sounds like a role that could have so very much impact on people’s lives. Px
Fingers crossed for merely un-fun rather than very very un-fun.
Question…what if the opera-singing purple ants are able to do housework? Might be a reasonable house“guest“ in that case (assuming you have earplugs for the raucous bits of the singing….oh hang on, Twinnage, you’re used to raucous)
Hang in there, one step at a time will bring you through.
I’m giggling as I read your comment. Thank you! Not that there’s anything wrong with opera of course, but it was just what popped into my mind when I was writing. Housework-performing ants, though? I’m totally up for that! Though the ants might not be, once they see the sorry state of our house…
Lovely Phil…..such hard news! You didn’t order it, so pack it up and return to sender! A woman who can steek her knitting has the courage to get through this. We are all holding your hands virtually, and those of the Stoic Spouse and the twinnage.
Thank you, I appreciate this so much. I love the idea of sending back the news! Px
Just heard about you, your site and your breast cancer on Knitting Paradise this morning. It’s almost 25 years since my diagnosis. I never say “fight’ because I made up my mind to not let it rule my life, no matter what it brought. ‘
If you do chemo dont let it take over your life. You will get tired, but not so you cant function.
Good luck to you, and I’ll keep following to see how things go. Don’t be hesitant to post what really is going on with your journey through this.
Thank you so much, especially since you’ve walked this same path before me. I appreciate your wisdom. And I’m glad you’re still here many years after your experience. Px
That is a lot. Really a lot. As if a global pandemic was not enough to deal with right now? Try to keep laughing but remember that it is okay to fall apart once in a while as well. I will be sending prayers out to you and looking forward to all your updates – the good, the bad, and the hysterically funny. Love to y’all.
Thank you. Quite seriously, thank you. I appreciate this little online community so much right now. People are far too kind. Px
Dear Phil
I am devastated by your bad news and send all healing and hopeful wishes for your full and energetic recovery. I am a crocheter not a knitter – I get muddled just doing plain and pearl, too many needles – but was drawn to your blog because of your humour and skilful yarnery, your love of nature and obvious talents at word-smithing. You are an inspiration and virtual friend to many many people (see other comments for a start) and you will get through this and come out the other side with Robyn-the-robin perched on your shoulder. You will rise balanced on the shoulders of your heroic Stoic Spouse, with the genius-chef Twinnage sounding saucepans of triumph with golden wooden spoons. And we’ll be waiting – can you see us waving?
In the meantime, be kind to yourself. Sit and knit (more crochet please!) and generally be the awesome person you are. You sneer at steeking; cackle derisively at sharks falling from the sky, and slaughter baby plants for food. You are the Kale Master. We salute you xxx
Do you realize that you’ve just made a grown woman giggle and blush?! Thank you for every single word of that, even if it’s kinder than I deserve. I can see you waving and I am waving back in response. Yes, I should crochet more, and I will endeavour to do so. Crochet rocks! Px
Someone who can knit (crochet?) a green tumor with eyes like that – I somehow trust them to have miracles come out of it all. I had one of those green ones start 2000, and I since i have the same job as you it seems, I wanted to say hi and ask it what it had to share. It turned out like a little girl in big pain and I listened for a long while and held her and loved her. It felt very good.I think humor melts them – I think the blubs feel very insecure and powerless when we don’t immediate meet them with fear and powerlessness. Oceans of love and smiles from Leelah and Norway
Leelah thank you, especially as I know you’re a long-term reader here. May you continue to be cancer-free forever. (And as someone who has visited Norway several times, may I please say how much I adore your beautiful country.) Px
I’m fairly new to reading your blog and I love it. I’m also really sorry to hear about the breast cancer. That’s a bugger. However, I do know the Oxford Hospitals and the cancer people at the Churchill are brilliant and do wonderful things if there are wonderful things to be done. Take care and think of yourself first and foremost.
Thank you. Seriously, thank you. And yes, I have a great deal of confidence in the wise and kind-hearted people at the Churchill who are treating me. Px
Please get better soon. You’ve opened my floodgate to tears. I pray you and all of yours are all right. You bring great joy to so many.
Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trigger tears! Everything will be OK. And thank you for such kind-hearted words. Px
So sorry to hear this Phil. What a rubbish year! I love your blog but please don’t feel you’ve got to keep writing funny entertaining things to keep us all amused. Put yourself first for a bit. Hugs and best wishes, Elinor xx
Thank you for such kindness, but I can’t help but coming here and writing silliness, no matter what happens! Px
So sorry to hear your latest news. 2020 is a bitch. Let’s hope you don’t need to rely on your sense of humour too much to get you through the next few months. Knitting is the best mental therapy and soothes the soul through the most troubled times.
Yup, I completely agree about the knitting. A bit of silliness helps too, though. Thank you for your kindness. Px
Well Phil, We all know how strong you are and I think you can say that we are all behind you in this. Hope the treatment goes smoothly and you kick these nasty cells into oblivion. You can do it!
Thank you, familiar reader. Seriously, thank you. Fingers crossed this goes OK. Px
I am joining the so many you have touched, with your humour, your curiosity, your yarny talent and beautiful photos (hello Robyn), to express my F&#K cancer! and well wishes to you. You do not journey alone.❤️
Thank you, very familiar and long-term reader, seriously thank you. (And you’re more than welcome to swear here!) Your words are kind and your good wishes are very much appreciated. Px
Dear, dear one – I can tell you in absolute truth that I never laughed as much as I did during my time of treatment for stage four metastatic melanoma…meeting lovely, intelligent and caring persons who were laughing with me as we walked the path of healing together. You are a beam of light and will shine more brightly as you walk this path – so many hands holding yours virtually! With love.
As always, your kind words are deeply appreciated. And I’m in awe of you for coming through what much have been a frightening diagnosis. Thank you. I hear all of you here who are spreading kindness and I’m smiling. Px
Well, yes, it had to be 2020, didn’t it?
I had a cancer scare at the end of last year, but it turned out not to be cancer, just my hormones doing strange things,so I do feel for you. Wishing you all the best for the treatment ❤
Much love and light to you.
Thank you from the bottom of my rusty old heart. Px
The Headington Shark is an all too familiar sight for us on our fortnightly journeys to the Churchill for my partner’s cancer treatment. But it is becoming a beacon of hope as he continues to improve and his condition stabilises, largely due to the excellent care he is receiving. Your sense of humour and positive attitude are an inspiration and I wish you all the very best. Keep on blogging!
Thank you so much. Maybe we’ve passed without realizing it! May your partner’s treatment prove to be massively successful. And yes, I’ll still be here blogging because I don’t know how to stop. Px
Well what a shit year this is turning out to be. Lost my 17 year old dog last week it was his time but it certainly isn’t yours so don’t let the bc get you. Sending good vibes and so much love
Elizabeth
Oh, I’m so sorry to read that you lost your dog. Even if he was elderly, I don’t suppose that made it any less painful. May you have many memories of him that bring a smile to your face. And thank you for your kind words. Px
Sorry to hear your diagnosis. Sending much love and hoping the wee green beastie is dealt with speedily. Hugs.
Thank you, your comment made me smile! Px
Well what a shit year this is turning out to be. Lost my 17 year old dog last week it was his time but it certainly isn’t yours so don’t let the bc get you. Sending good vibes and so much love
Elizabeth
From New Zealand and from one who enjoys your blog so much- Kia kaha( Maori for stay strong!) All the best! ????
Thank you so much! I shall try to stay strong. Your kindness is deeply appreciated. Px
My thoughts are with you. Very hard time for you, but humor is the best medicine!
Thank you, and yes I agree! Px
A silent follower sends xoxo across the airwaves, ether, optical fibre and hamsters in wheels of the internet
Thank you so much. (I think I like the hamsters the best.) Px
So sorry to hear your news. My sister-in-law has been diagnosed with lung cancer this week, so it seems to be having a moment. Hope your treatment is not too horrendous and VERY successful. The book will find a new home and finishing it will give you something positive to focus on without deadlines looming when you don’t feel you can meet them. Onward and upward!
Eek, may your sister-in-law have the very best possible treatment. Wishing her well. And thank you for your kind words. Px
I don’t knit but I love reading your blog posts which I’ve done for a while now. I can only join in with everyone else to add my best wishes for a speedy and successful treatment. Sending you virtual (but not too crushing) hugs.
Thank you so much! I deeply appreciate it. Also, have you ever considered learning to knit?! Px
I just know that with your attitude Phil, you will come through this with flying colours!!! 2020 can’t get any worse. My 85-yr-old father fell down chasing off stray dogs from his verandah and is awaiting surgery for a fracture of the femur as I write this. How I will be able to keep him happy for the coming three months when he will be confined to a bed is my current worry. But that is nothing compared with your news. Wishing you all the best and hoping that the down time will give more juice to your creative grey cells. So brave of you to come out with this on the blog! Adding my prayers all the way from India!
Yikes, no his situation sounds far more challenging than mine. May he make a surprisingly speedy recovery and may no more stray dogs trouble his verandah. 2020 is just not fun. But thank you for your kindness – it’s deeply appreciated. Px