The next step in the process was managing Tom’s severe pain and looking at what treatment would suit him best. Unbeknownst to me, they do this by producing a DNA profile of the individual cancer- don’t ask me for any more detail than that.

After a couple of weeks, Tom began immunotherapy. A newish treatment that reinforces the body so it can fight the cancer itself, as opposed to chemotherapy being an outside influence that enters the body to help the fight. Think of immunotherapy as giving an army more equipment and chemo as giving the army new men. Once every 3 weeks Tom would spend a day in the hospital getting his treatment, across only a couple of months. At that point things would be reassessed.

Tom’s first treatment was pretty traumatic, he was very ill for the next 24 hours, but we agreed that the first time would be such a shock to his system. Whilst the treatment went on, things did admittedly get worse. Tom was in and out of hospital with pain. We found out that the cancer had spread. Tom faced pneumonia and all sorts of issues related to the spread of the disease. This was a horrendously gruelling time.

The pigment in Tom’s skin began to change, naps and nurse visits became the norm and still are.

At this point I was so driven that I don’t think reality had set in yet. Tom was feeling really down, as expected, and things were just relentless. I’m not implying that they’re any easier now we’ve moved to a different stage of the process, but your love for someone can drag you out of bed and keep you going through a hell of a lot. Now the normal routine was, uni 9-5 and hospital 5-9 and a taxi home. I can’t even remember, so far, how many times Tom has been into hospital, but we have been so, so lucky with the teams we have come across.

Tom was in hospital for weeks at this point. Every time I met a new nurse of his, they would say how gorgeous Tom is. The nurses taking time to remember my name and remember what Tom has told them about me was a subtle saviour. Everyone knows that hospitals are intimidating and pretty unwelcoming, but the nurses make horrible times manageable. They make us smile, bring us drinks and throw the visiting hour rules out of the window. I know it’s their job, but when the hospital becomes your second home, they become part of the team.

From my point of view, I had to juggle seeing Tom with food shopping, cleaning, cooking, uni work, a social life and my existing mental health problems. Small victories are the way forward, cooking a meal and doing the washing up became huge tasks for me. I wanted to be there with Tom all day every day, rearranging his pillows and keeping up to date but realistically this couldn’t happen at the time.

As his girlfriend, I am not needed for all that all the time, he has an amazing family and friendship group that go above and beyond. Tom likes me to do other things, but even when I do that, he’s always on my mind. Something I always say to my friends is how much I hate the word ‘selfish’ and that it has negative connotations. I could write a whole post on this but taking time for yourself and putting yourself first is not a bad thing, it is vital.

Valentine’s Day came and we spent the evening in hospital, holding hands and having a laugh. Tom had one of his nurses help get a card for me from the shop in the hospital. It wasn’t quite what we had in mind, but the only thing I could ever want is to be with him. We promised we would have our own Valentine’s Day at a later date, we love each other the same everyday anyway. Going home to my flat that night was tough, he was too poorly for me to stay the night with him. I was sick of explaining every night to Uber drivers that I hadn’t just finished a shift; I was actually visiting my boyfriend and the nurses always let me stay past visiting hours. My sister paid for me to have a dominos that night and that meant so much to me, this whole journey has been made harder by being so far from my family.

But the day came where Tom felt strong enough to have our own Valentine’s Day. We got dolled up, he bought a new jacket for the big event, and we went out for dinner. We had an amazing time, but things were so different to what they used to be. Our first question when we got there was ‘where are the toilets?’ just in case Tom took a turn. Meanwhile, my handbag was full of syringes. We finished a memorable meal, I even managed to have a glass of wine before Tom was definitely ready for home. I am so proud that Tom made it out for that meal, we both still talk about that day and I don’t think either of us will forget it anytime soon.

This chapter will probably be the longest, suitably because of how quickly this all happened. Things came thick and fast after the diagnosis and it feels such a long time ago to me. I think it’s true to say that I only started the process things in chapter 3.

Evie