The first time you get unexpected news in a new regime is always a shock. I was booked in for my fourth round of chemotherapy. I had completed three cycles, had good days and bad days, but they were done.

All things considered, I was managing well. Tim dropped me to the Bon Secours hospital shortly after 8am. I was mighty sorry for myself. The day or two before treatment I can’t help thinking about it.

I go through the ‘why me, I’m going to be awfully miserable for a few days. I hate this’, and so on. I had done the pre-assessment for treatment two days previously.

Anyone going through or having gone through the same regime will know the drill. That morning my blood was taken as usual. An hour or so later, Dr Deirdre came to visit. She sat on a chair close to my hospital bed, indicating that she had some important things to say.

She had her solemn face on. “We can’t give you chemotherapy today. Your liver enzymes are too high.”

I could hardly take it in. “We’ll try again next week.” Deirdre went on to explain that this can happen and sometimes it takes the liver six to eight weeks to return to normal.

It’s one thing to be on chemotherapy but it is a whole other scenario not to be able to have treatment. This was new territory for me and I didn’t take it well. I felt so vulnerable.

As the days wore on, I got better and better as my body moved further away from tough drugs. Each Wednesday, I’d go in for pre-assessment and by evening I’d have been informed that my blood hadn’t made the grade. It was like failing the Leaving Cert.

I tried to be positive on those days, and plough on, but I’d have a sleepless night. That meant I’d read a lot to stop my mind going down the rabbit hole of dread. Consequently, I’d be cross-eyed with tiredness the next day.

Scans

Meanwhile, I had scans. I had no idea how the treatment was going. All I knew was that I trusted my consultant and the huge team that are involved in my care. I wondered if the chemotherapy was doing anything at all to halt the cancer across my lungs.

I got welcome news, the spots had all reduced in size. With positive news, I wanted to get back at treatment as soon as possible and shrink things further.

Too often we allow the rat race of life to take from our family time and that includes health issues. We focus on deadlines and get totally absorbed in our work.

That weekend, my family had organised a night away in a beautiful house in Kinsale called Executive Homes. I forgot about my health issues and enjoyed the trip immensely.

The house had five gorgeous rooms with king-sized beds and en-suite bathrooms. Another room had six bunk beds. Ricky decided that it was the kids’ room and he stayed there. We didn’t think he’d last the night but he did.

There was everything one could possibly want, from outdoor seating to play areas and a fully equipped kitchen.

The girls, Julie and my two daughters-in-law, Aileen and Elaine, did the cooking. We had a lovely family time. We even played board games. It was a while since we’d all been together and we vowed to do it more often.

Too often we allow the rat race of life to take from our family time and that includes health issues. We focus on deadlines and get totally absorbed in our work.

Time with family has to be prioritised and planned to make it happen. There is no need for long journeys either. Under an hour away is ideal for people to come and also get back promptly.

Dr Deirdre says there is nothing I can do for my liver except to wait for it to recover. So each Wednesday I head into the hospital for my blood test and assessment. It’s been eight weeks now since my last treatment. I am extremely well and enjoying it.

Maybe next week, I’ll get back on track. My brother, Conor, and his family are due home at the weekend for a week. There will be more family time to enjoy.

At the moment, I am completely dependent on the wonderful phlebotomists and pathologists who rush my results so that my doctor can make informed decisions. Thank you.