Tiny Tim

Open the box to see what’s in
I think you’ll find it’s Tiny Tim.
“God bless us,
One and all”
A lovely thought, from one so small.

Out of sight
And out of mind
Why should we have to be so kind?

To feel compassion and empathy
Is not for Pixie and his tree!
It’s meant for Tim, and Tim alone
So watch the Lark, sat on his throne.

A spiteful lunge he will make

And the crutch it will break.

John Frank Trent 23/7/2025

Survivor Guilt

If my prognosis is correct then “Survivor Guilt’ ‘is something that I do not have to worry about for much longer. However, I am still very worried that the terminal diagnosis I have been given (and told everyone about) will be wrong, and I will look silly. In other words I am more worried about not dying than as I am about dying!

How ridiculous is that! What if it doesn’t happen and I die 30 year’s from now in my bed? Destitute and no family or friends? They used up all their energy in the first few months, years etc. Now it is a standing joke, another lie (perhaps he’ll) never die!). One for a Ditty.

All that sympathy, pre-grief, etc. wasted. It could have been used on someone who deserved it!

Prior to my cancer coming back I even had counseling sessions to help with my survivor guilt! What a fool!

Instead of just accepting how lucky I am and making the best of it, I wasted time worrying that I was not dying, and that I would look silly! I wasted time worrying about the people who did not make it. Did this help them, or me, or anyone else? No.

And all the time there are people who have a similar prognosis as me doing amazing things, raising millions to fight cancer, inspiring those around them. They are (were)amazing people, how do they do it, why can’t I? Why should a lazy, lying, good for absolutely nothing, like me, live and these brilliant inspiring people end up dying?

For instance, Deborah Jones (Poop Girl), springs to mind. She was such an amazing person with everything that she achieved, and all I can do is go ‘crying in my soup’ about survivor guilt!

Don’t get me wrong I was never going to raise millions in charity money, never going to inspire other people to do so. I guess the people who do this sort of thing are already special and would have done something special whatever happened, the cancer would be a catalyst for them not a eureka moment.

But at least I could have made the most of the time that I have. That is the greatest sin, wasting the precious time that is before me.

So I need to do something that I would not normally have done…

Even if it is to tell my family that I love them!

Survivor Guilt

Focusing on ‘survivor guilt’. After being given the ‘all clear’ from lung cancer I was racked with feelings of guilt. My reasoning was as follows:

On the day that I was diagnosed around 129 people in the UK were going through the same experience and emotions (from Google AI Overview). Looking back at the articles in this blog it felt like a death sentence, and that is how it is playing out, albeit a lot slower than I had anticipated. There are a lot of confusing statistics for survival depending on age, health, type of cancer, etc. but I settled on a 20% chance of still being alive in 5 years.

Well, here I am seven years later, and whilst I would like to say I am going strong, I am not. What I can say is I am not dead yet, I can still smile, I can still laugh, I can still hug my family and tell them I love them, I can still write this blog! The first five years were full of hope, I was fresh from the initial fight and felt indestructible again. I had beaten cancer, or at least so I thought.

And then I hadn’t. It came back, this time determined to do a ‘proper job’.

I thought I was cancer clear and this triggered ‘survivor guilt’.

What is ‘survivor guilt’?

Maggie’s define Survivor Guilt as “…common among survivors of traumatic events—such as war, natural disasters, accidents, and even acute or long term illnesses such as cancer. Survivor guilt refers to the sense of guilt or responsibility that can occur when one person survives a traumatic event that others did not’… Cancer can be a traumatic event too…. (Moving beyond survivor guilt, Cancer Treatment Centres of America)

My guilt was driven simply by the fact that I had survived a cancer that should have killed me, much earlier and I was not making the most of of the time I had been given, the time that most of the other people, who were diagnosed on the same day, did not get.

I had the ‘gift of time’, a gift more valuable than I could have imagined.

I was not jumping out of airplanes, climbing mountains, walking to Katmando. I was not raising vast sums of money for cancer research, I was not sharing my experience to give hope to others, I was not bringing any joy to the world or my fellow cancer sufferers. Why?

I wasn’t doing it when I didn’t have cancer, why would having cancer change this? It can change things, you see the amazing people on the TV, like the Poo Lady Deborah Jones. People say “…it must change your outlook on life, wanting to make the most of every second?”. I was sitting wallowing in pity for those who no longer wanted or needed it. No it was worse than this, it was self pity, the absolute worst of them all!

I had some counseling sessions and they said “give yourself permission to be happy!” and “…do things that make you happy”. I did and to some extent it helped a bit.

Selfish

If I had wish
I wouldn’t use it
For the fear
That I would abuse it

I’d pretend to wish for others
Perhaps my brilliant and wonderful brothers

But truth be said
I’d wish for me instead

Selfish to the end,
It drives me round the bloody bend

I can’t be what I ought to be

And that’s because of the devil in me.

John Frank Trent 20/7/25

Cancer is not a dirty word

Cancer is not a dirty word
Despite what you may have heard
It cant be caught by words alone
Or you’d catch it on the phone?

So say it loud and say it clear
To chase away the fear
Whats the worst that it could do?
Look at me and i will show you.

Your futures gone, oh no its not
Lets face it  you’ve not been shot
Plenty of time to say goodbyes
So don’t fall for all the lies

Laugh and cry, with those you love
This shouldn’t need a shove
They need your help, what can you do?
Smile and tell them “I love you!

John Frank Trent 27/06/25

The NHS has lost the recipe to toast

The NHS has lost the recipe to toast
And what worries me about this the most
Is it really is a simple thing
To toast the bread and make it sing

Firm and crunchy it should be
But no … soft and floppy is what we see
The ice cold butter just won’t spread
It snags and rips and tears the bread

And when it comes to cut in half
It goes well beyond a laugh
The knife is as blunt as a spoon
No way through that crust soon

John Frank Trent 01/06/25

So you’re back then

“So you’re back then” I said to Cancer

“Yes, you knew I would be…why are you surprised?” Cancer said

“I am not surprised”…I paused “and then again I am. The timescales, the scans, the tests, they all led me to believe that I had actually won, I had beaten you…and even as I type this I know that statement is untrue. I always knew you would be back, but just not today.” I replied.

“After all these years you still don’t fundamentally know what or who I am” quipped Cancer. “I am not a game, a challenge, something to compete with and at the conclusion either to win or loose.”

“I am the fundamental error… I am life and death; I am evolution. Without the error, there can be no change to living things, and without change, there would never have been life. Life has evolved from the simplest substances, over billions of years, into what we are now. Evolution is not perfect, and yet look at what it has produced: beasts, plants, people—a universe of wonder. You see me, ‘Cancer’, as death (and so it will be for you), but the reality is I am the fundamental error that is life.”

I sat back in my chair and thought. ‘Cancers got a bloody cheek. Trying to get the credit for life and evolution’.

It steals your future…

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Two years ago when I was diagnosed with locally advanced lung cancer the feeling of despair was overwhelming. One aspect of that despair was the belief that my future had been stolen. I tried to write an essay on it at the time but it was impossible. Two years on this is my first serious attempt at describing the feeling.

I was initially told “…you will never go back to work”..(I did by the way). And that I should get my affairs in order.

No one actually tells you how long you have to live at that stage because they just don’t know. However, it didn’t take me long to find the statistics on Google that showed there was a 5% chance of being alive in 5 years. I know these are quite old stats and cannot be applied to an individual but it is very difficult to be objective…at least at first anyway.

At 47 even with a fair wind that makes living to 52 very good going! Strange that prior to diagnosis I was not really looking forward to being 50 but now it is a massive milestone in my life.

I could not get out of my head all the things that I would never do:

I would never grow old…
I would never walk my daughter down the aisle…
I would never be a grandad…
I would never retire (a bit of a relief as my pension is rubbish…every cloud!)…
I would never…
I would never…

This is despair of the like that I had never experienced before. It was actually worse than the thought of dying (more on that in another essay).

It is like I was grieving for myself, for the loss of my own future.

It does not go away. Writing this in a coffee shop in Blackheath two years later my eyes still well as I type the ‘I would nevers…’.

But it does become less prominent, to the point where you only think about it in your occasional, lowest moments, when your guard is down.

Why?

The answer is simple. It does not get easier, you do not get used to the concept or accept it.

The reality is that other things get in the way. Bit by bit they cover the wound until, for the most part, you don’t realise it is there.

I guess this is what they mean when they say that time heals. It doesn’t… it just puts a whole load of other stuff in your way, slowly covering the wound.

You also get bored of the same thoughts. And this happens very slowly and without you really noticing it. You can’t just make yourself get bored of it, it doesn’t work like that. It just happens.

And if you are an analytical person like me you start to find the space to be objective (some initial therapy really helped with this and if you get the opportunity I would recommend it).

Logically you have to ask yourself is there any point wasting effort grieving for something that has not yet, and may never have, happened? You cannot lose something that you never had. All you lost was the vague promise of having it in the perfect world that you had planned out in your head.

Ask yourself how did all the perfect world thoughts you had 30 years ago go? Not to plan? Not how you expected? Then why now do you believe that the perfect world you have planned out for next 30 years is any more likely to go to plan?

And now?

I live with the sword of Damocles hanging over me. A horses hair keeps the sword from falling down to secure my fate…a bit over dramatic and historically incorrect, but hey I am indulging myself!

Living with the impending threat of the cancer once more proliferating is now a greater day to day concern.

Logically I should therefore focus on the things that are real, that are happening now. Things that have a direct impact on me and the things I care about. My family.

And I have been partially successful with this but also the normal stuff like work and paying the bills becomes important again. It had been suggested to me that these things would become more trivial after holding hands with Thanatos. And maybe it did for a bit until the stark realisation that the realities of life had not gone away.

The ‘old normal’ so to speak!

It is too easy to forget how lucky I am to be alive and generally well, for however long this reprieve continues.