Three weeks ago my oncologist's clerk called. They asked if I could make a scheduled phone appointment into an in person visit. With only two hours notice there really wasn't time to worry.  I picked up the phone and called my faithful caregiver, Sandra, wondering if she would  take part via phone in the consultation.

When the oncologist walked into the room, he looked at me and said, "We know what that cough is. Osimertinib has not been working at all. Your main tumour is growing and there are two new spots." Not unexpected but still a bit of a surprise.

"Strangely you have more reason to live after you learn that you are dying. There's more poignancy to moments. Joy in my sorrow. Death lingers in even the most innocuous of moments. Enjoy the moments of gratitude. Recognize the beauty and the tragedy in the world around me. There is an awesome amount of grace that I have been extended. The least I can do is return that grace."

 January and February were not quiet months.

Grant review for Health Care Unburdened took over January.   As the only patient on the review board, I was in a unique position to raise questions and concerns about grants. The CMA (Canadian Medical Association) will announce the winners in April and I will have more to say then.

February turned into a scramble to catch up on all the things that had slid into the background. Applying for more conferences, catching up on webinars and reading, and most importantly reconnecting with the others in my life filled my days.

I'm pretty excited about my part in an article on people facing death. As always I'm surprised at what journalists take from my story. But it is pretty accurate. I'm still trying to figure out why I was introduced as the "bad boy of patient advocates."

Advice From 30 people Who Really Started Living When They Found Out-They-Were-Dying

As I started writing this I was waiting for results from my bronchoscopy. In the meantime I was contemplating what is a major milestone in my cancer journey. To some extent I have withdrawn to think about this on my own. I was expecting results on the 12th but a mixup in a changed appointment resulted in the oncologist not having the results to give us the information that we needed.

In the last of my fall commitments I travelled to Halifax for the CCRC (Canadian Cancer Research Conference.) Before I left though I had a meeting with my oncologist. This time I didn't get the expected "remarkably unremarkable" comment from him.

I travel a lot and a "friend" is making jokes about me spending more time in hotel rooms than in my apartment. The truth is I'm enjoying the opportunity to meet new people and to speak up for lung cancer.

I don't recommend taking an exotic international trip two days after the 3 day novel contest ends.

This will be the fourth year I have written a novella in the 3 day contest. Each time it truly is an amazing experience. I started on Saturday morning with an idea, a character or two, and a rough plot (maybe), and then put my fingers to the keyboard. There is something about the boundaries and pressure of time that keep the fingers moving.

For years I have worn a hat, a wool Cowichan style in winter and a broad brimmed soft hat in summer. When I went to the first Cancer Connection mentor training workshop, folks commented on my red hat a lot. And it became a "thing." The first red toque was a microfleece picked up at a dollar store. Last Christmas I set out to knit a wool version with the idea of doing a few to share with my boys. It was an unmitigated disaster. You can not learn to knit from YouTube. Or at least I can't.