MY DATE WITH CANCER
During February 2021, I was told I had cancer. An emergency operation followed, backed by a chemo treatment that is still ongoing as I write.
It’s hard to describe the moment when you hear THAT word - cancer. The emotions are raw and your world gets strangely real. You hold your loved ones close and find that there is a redefinition of what is truly important in life.
There’s never ‘one way’ to process such news. Writing helped. It’s amazing how life can make sense through the creation of stories.
Below is one of those creations. A six minute short story trying to get my head around this moment. It’s a little bit funny, a little bit raw, a little bit vulnerable and a little bit real. It’s called ‘My Surprise Dinner Date With Cancer’.
Feel free to share. If you need a PDF copy to pass on to others, just let me know.
MY SURPRISE DINNER DATE WITH CANCER
I met Cancer on a Thursday night. At a restaurant. The one between Mr Tilley’s corner shop and Cath’s Café. I wasn’t expecting to bump into such an infamous figure. If I had, I would’ve dressed up for the occasion. My mother always told me that important meetings required smart trousers and a pressed shirt.
In hindsight, I should’ve spotted my evening wasn’t following the typical rules of normality. It’s not every day a hooded, faceless taxi driver pulls up outside your house with a glimmering silver scythe on the back seat. I assumed I had mistakenly ordered one of those novelty rides; I’m not good at navigating new apps on my phone these days.
The taxi ride was as comfortable as one could expect. Sitting next to an oversized curved blade crafted in the fires of eternal death was never going to leave much room for my legs. Small talk with the driver was an obvious no-go; the sign on their headrest gave it away. ‘BE YE SILENT AND CONTEMPLATE THY DOOM’. So, I did just that, apart from the bit about contemplating my doom. That seemed a bit too serious on a weeknight.
When we arrived outside the restaurant, I asked the hooded figure how much the fare was. They pointed to the sign on the headrest. Aware that I hadn’t contemplated any sort of doom, I left a ten-pound note on the passenger seat and departed with haste.
My table-for-one was laid out with an extra chair already occupied. The uninvited stranger kindly informed me that….
