P. D. Clifton

It’s late evening and Lizzie and I are walking down the hill with Cedric. Cedric is always slightly spooked on evening-time walks. He sniffs everything around him way less on these excursions… and trots ahead purposefully, keen to return to our bright kitchen as quickly as possible. ‘I’ve been doing some research,’ Lizzie says, as…

Days go past… and Lizzie still hasn’t received the results of her CAT scan. One evening she comes up to me, looking pale. She’s had a missed call. Her oncologist rang, minutes before – while Lizzie and her phone were in separate rooms. The oncologist didn’t leave a message, as often seems to be the…

It’s Friday before half-term… and we’re meant to be heading off at 5.30pm this afternoon, to drive down to Trevone Bay in Cornwall. This will be our first trip away, as a family, since Lizzie was diagnosed with cancer. Leaving late afternoon today is the plan anyway. But everywhere, Warwickshire included, is as windy as…

It’s the end of the evening and I walk into the bedroom as Lizzie’s in the process of putting on her baggy old pyjamas. I make a Sid James-style suggestive noise. ‘Don’t look at my fatness!’ says Lizzie, as she tugs her top on. ‘You’re not looking fat!’ I say, then add brightly, ‘you’ve lost…

It’s 5.45am and I’m rushing to get ready for work – which is down in London today (doing my crappy film production job). As I crash about the house, desperately trying not to wake everyone up, I notice the following bag in the hall by the front door. It’s litter for our new kitten –…

Lizzie now appears to be remembering on a regular basis that I’m writing a journal about our experiences. She asks me how it’s going, as we take the dog for a walk down the hill. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I tell her that writing ‘Stop Telling Me I’m Brave’ has not only been strangely therapeutic… it’s…

It’s my daily walk with Lizzie and Cedric the dog, over the fields. Lizzie is talking about what might happen after her final CAT scan in a few days’ time. Specifically, what might happen if it turns out all her cancer hasn’t gone. She tells me she’s expecting her oncologist to have a back-up plan…

It’s Saturday and Lizzie’s Mum has come to visit again. I like Lizzie’s Mum (or Grandma, as she’s known by the kids). For one thing, we’ve bonded in the face of a shared enemy – Cedric the dog. Cedric HATES Lizzie’s Mum. At the very sight of her, he goes nuts – barking his head…

It’s the Saturday one week after Lizzie had her last chemo session. Usually things are calming down at this point. Lizzie has got past her worst days (which are usually three or four days after the chemo, when the steroids have worn off) and, as a family, we begin to collectively sigh a sigh of…

It’s Saturday and Lizzie and I are about to go for our daily walk with Cedric. I go upstairs to ask Annie if she wants to come (Jake is out, so I can’t ask him). As I know what the answer will be already – an automatic, uninterested ‘NO!’ from my daughter – I try…