Why am I writing this blog?

 

Yes, of course I've thought about this question.

The most obvious answer is because I enjoy it. I wake, usually early, and think "What would I like to write about today?" and I always have plenty of things rolling around in my head, so can't imagine ever running out of things to tell you. I also find it easy to put one word after another so it isn't a struggle. Some of these posts are only ten minutes work because it all falls out cleanly.

But, being a cogitator, I can think of other motivations, so here is a non-exhaustive list which you can add to, especially if you do a blog of your own.

Vanity: let's admit, seeing a view counter clicking up is very nice for ones ego. People have come back to read what I wrote, so they must be enjoying it in some way "and oo, look its just passed x,000.."

Communication: there is always a pleasure in sharing your ideas, whether standing at a bus stop, writing something on social media, publishing something in print or any other way. The idea that things from your head are now in someone else's head is such a core part of being human. And of course, because you can comment on a blog it can become a two-way exchange.

Helping people: because my personal situation touches on difficult areas including but not limited to death, cancer, bereavement and Myeloma, I think some people will be able to benefit here if those issues have arrived on their doorstep too, or even if they know someone else dealing with them. Knowledge is power, and thought - when not obsessive cogitation- is good for you. And even if there is nothing here that you didn't already realise, a problem shared is a problem halved.

Telling my story: There is a certain pleasure in just telling your story. That's why nothing is really off-limits and I'll talk about health and family and history and interests and obsessions without too much filter. Because then you all sort of have me there in the round. Admittedly a picture which I've edited, but to be honest I don't think there is anything dark that I've hidden. If I write this for a year, you'll probably know me as well as my own family, and many of you are my own family or know me very well already. And I know that further along in the treatment, this might be the most fun I have, lying there all Proust-like with me Madelaines.

Leaving something behind: Yes I have thought about this too, and I accept that this is a quite valid motivation. Because I am fairly clear-minded about my diagnosis, I understand the Myeloma is going to kill me (unless, as I tell the kids, I die before that bungee jumping in the Grand Canyon or drug-smuggling in the Golden Triangle...). It will likely take a few years, but if nothing else gets me, it eventually will. And even though in principle we all know we will die, the diagnosis sharpens your focus a little bit onto that strange time when I will be, how shall I put it, 'gone'. And of course, if I sort it out correctly with Google, these words will still be here. I might even leave a few timed updates for your future enjoyment, you'll just have to find out. But you will, if you please, have more than just your memories of me to remember what I was like. And I would love you all to know that I have really really enjoyed my life so far, and myeloma hasn't changed that one jot.

So keep coming back here and I promise to keep writing random shit on a regular basis, for you to enjoy 🙂