Well, I've been thinking about updating this for ages now because so much has happened since that last update, but it's difficult, I'll give it a try.

Who knew in October 2019 what was about to descend on us? Now, nearly two years later, things slowly returning to normal-ish and everyone saying, "...we've all had a really difficult 18/20 months.." I actually want to say to them, "fuck off, you don't know what difficult is" but I don't, and I couldn't if I wanted to, but we'll come to that.

Was all looking good for me/us back then, cancer free and not a problem in the World. Then the virus, Deb classed as clinically extremely vulnerable so pretty much house-bound for the first half of 2020, think she went out twice in that time. Then in July I sensed something not right with my throat, feeling a bit constricted and food getting difficult to swallow so I contact my hospital team; although discharged after five year all clear it was always made clear to me if I had any worries I could contact them directly rather than going through my GP. So went to see them on the 16th (my dad's birthday), they were concerned and I had an MRI on the 21st and a PET-CT on the 28th followed by day case examination/biopsy under general on the 30th. That was a Thursday and I really can't remember exactly how/when it was communicated to me but I was told that week that I had cancer again, not strictly speaking a recurrance but a shiny new one because it was in a slighly different place, on my larynx.

Deb, because of the virus, hadn't been able to come to any of the appointments with me and was devastated. I/we knew because of what we'd learnt about head and neck cancer, that radiotherapy can only be given once, which meant that the only possible option (if I wanted to live) was a larygectomy, which would cost me my voice; though there are "speech" options available to many.

Debbie had a "chest infection" that we'd been to the GP about 4/5 weeks earlier and she was waiting for an x-ray appointment and sucking on Soothers all day every day/struggling to speak, but we decided we had to see a couple of people face-to-face to tell them the news, so on Monday August 3rd (day my dad died) we went first to see Jess. Didn't see Sophie, Lucy or Becky, not because we love them any less, just that the relationships were complicated (which there's no need to elaborate on on here, they know), and Jess had been with us through the first time. Then we drove up to see Deb's mum, Gita, who I love to bits; when my mum died she told me in no uncertain terms that she'd be my new mum, another very difficult visit and a long day on the road and very difficult for Deb feeling not great at all and only able to speak in a bit of a high pitched whisper.

Went to bed exhausted physically and mentally but was woken by Josh at around 3.00am, he was still awake and had found Deb in the lounge, in the dark, seemingly confused and unable to find the light switch. I went downstairs and after a brief chat took her back to bed, thought nothing of it, her sleep patterns always were all over the place.

(Mention here that I wrote that first part a week or so ago, I'm now sat on the terrace of my holiday house in Zakynthos, which is where all of this started, so kind of a good place a good place to end this part of the story)

Tuesday morning I got up and went downstairs, caught up with a few online bits and pieces and pondered on how we were going to cope with things, was a little scared but still had total trust in my wonderful team. Bit later Josh came down and said to me, "mum looks a bit strange" so I went upstairs and she was lying on her back with a little bit of blood by the side of her mouth so I went to nudge her awake, and she was ice cold. I'd never seen a dead body before but it was obvious. In that moment I really can't describe how I felt because I really don't remember, just total shock I suppose.

There hadn't been any trauma or gasping for breath from her, I was sure of that because I'd have heard it, she'd just floated away. Called 999 and they told us we had to get her onto the floor to try to resuscitate, which we did (Josh did most of the work bless him because I was incapable of doing anything) but I wish we'd refused. She was long gone, she'd looked peaceful in bed and now she was dumped on the floor, horrible image still in my head.

Two ambulances arrived, and the police (unexplained death) and the medics immediately agreed she was long past any help. Talked to lovely, caring police for a while and, given the circumstances (my illness and her history of depression) they looked for any sign of a suicide note and looked at her mobile. I knew 100% that is wasn't suicide; given her long standing depression she'd discussed suicide with me many times, and had made me promise that if she ever got to that point I wouldn't stop her. If she was going to do it she'd have told me and said goodbye, I knew that totally in my head and heart.

Can't remember the exact sequence of events but eventually an undertaker arrived and Deb came down the stairs in a body bag, sorry if this is upsetting but no way to sugar coat it, and she was gone. I'd phoned my brother early on and he arrived just after me and Josh were left on our own, he dropped everything (including his mother-in-law) to get to us as soon as he could and it was great to have him there. Discussed phoning people to inform, people who we'd told 24 hours earlier that I had cancer again, complete nightmare; would've been better in person but I was in no fit state to drive.

When you call someone the day after you've told them you have cancer (again) and say, "I've got something I need to tell you" they obviously, and understandably, assume it's cancer related so the shock when I told them the truth was stratospheric. Jessie was on a bus for goodness sake but if I'd said, "I have something to tell, give me a call when you get home" she'd have demanded to know then and there. I don't need to go into any more detail but it was stuff worse than your worst nightmare; a couple of years ealier I'd had to wake Deb up in the morning on a Saturday when we were due to visit her very unwell dad (who she worshipped) after a phone call from her brother saying we were too late. That was probably the worst moment of my life to that point but those calls were different planet; we knew that David was close to death, Debbie had a chest infection (as far as we were aware at the time).

I was "fortunate" in that I called her brother, Simon, to ask him to tell his mum, which I couldn't face, and he happened to be at her house so was able to be with her. Couple of the girls immediately came to the conclusion that it was suicide and were angry with her in their grief, again totally understandably, but I tried to reassure them it wasn't (post mortem confirmed it eventually).

Will post this (very long) update now and follow up soon, lots more good stuff to talk about; actually that's a lie. Lots more bad stuff first but there is some positivity come the end, stay with me!