Strange Times, Unexpected Events, Difficult Decisions

Timing, they say, is everything, and over the years mine has sometimes left a little to be desired. So it was, that on March 23rd this year, when the UK lockdown was announced to minimise the risk of spreading the Coronavirus, I was in the A&E department of our local hospital having severe chest and back pains investigated. Due to a niggling but incidental chest infection, I was immediately isolated as a potential Covid-19 patient, and although the test came back negative, both I and the medical experts were left with the lingering suspicion that it might all be down to Corona after all.

Later that same week, after test results had been fully analysed, came the phone call that no-one ever wants to receive. “Obviously, we would rather be able to tell you this face to face,” said the voice at the other end of the line, “but with the current pandemic situation, we are unable to see all our patients as we would normally.” The chap went on to say that their tests suggested that I had multiple myeloma, and that they would be referring me on to the oncology department for further tests to confirm what was going on.

As I was still in a great deal of pain, which had been getting steadily worse despite taking all the painkillers available from my local GP, I was actually glad to have something which might explain it. For around six weeks, I had been taking ever-increasing doses, but not addressing whatever was causing the pain, and neither my GP nor the hospital could provide an explanation. Multiple myeloma at least gave me something to Google with.

“Hey Google, what’s myeloma?”

“Multiple myeloma, also known as myeloma, is a type of bone marrow cancer. Bone marrow is the spongy tissue at the centre of some bones that produces the body's blood cells.”

So here I am, a cancer patient. What should I do? I am not one of those people who lives their life in the public eye of social media. On the other hand, my work in motor sport – particularly for Radio Show Limited and its network of channels – has ensured that there are a lot of people out there who know about me and know what I do. And there may be readers of this blog that I have never met, who care about what is going on.

This is not an easy piece to write. At the moment, I am in the middle of a programme of treatment, and do not have a clear idea of what state I will be in at the end of that programme. Importantly, though, I am much improved now, compared to where I was when I began the treatment, although I am still far away from being able to undertake very many normal, everyday tasks. The medical professionals tell me that remission is a real possibility and that there is every chance that I should be able to return to ‘normal’ at some point – but, a bit like life after the Covid-19 lockdown, I wonder if we will we have to reconsider what we mean by ‘normal’?

Nevertheless, it does raise the question of what I should do now? Having become fully self-employed at the beginning of last year, I had high hopes of all kinds of interesting projects for this year. My illness gives me the opportunity to reflect on my mortality though. Needless to say, none of the professionals was prepared to tell me how long I might live, but in such circumstances your thoughts inevitably turn to those things that are important in life.

Yes, motor-racing has been my passion virtually my whole life long, but is it really that important? Do I really have to stay up all night and work out fuel consumption or tyre use? Or is my family more important? What about doing some travelling to see some of the sights of the world, rather than just the pit garages, paddocks and media centres of race circuits near and far?

I’ve never really been one to set myself targets or objectives, and then go all out to achieve them, but I can look back on a life that has seen an awful lot and experienced many things. I have been to more than one hundred 24-hour car races. I’ve seen the Indianapolis 500, F1 Grands Prix in five different countries (and decades) and been to the Le Mans 24-hour race 39 times consecutively. I’ve been able to commentate on the Public Address at British (or European) GPs at Silverstone, Brands Hatch and Donington Park. I’ve worked in the pit garage with the class-winning team at the Spa 24-hours and run the strategy for the team that came second overall (and first in class) at the Zolder 24-hours. On top of that, I have met some of the heroes of the motor-racing world, got to know many of them quite well, and can call some of them my friends. That’s looking back - I’m not even dead yet, so opportunities exist to add to those experiences. The difference is now that I realise I have a choice about what I see and where I go. The choices may have been restricted, but they are still there and with a bit of luck I will still be in a position to make them.

I am getting ahead of myself though. In terms of my treatment, it is still early days. For now, I have to be patient and see what happens over the next few months. After that, you may see me popping up at a race circuit somewhere – hopefully if I do, then I will be doing something useful. If not, then I may just be there enjoying myself. On the other hand, I may decide that there are other things that I should be doing – such as being at home, enjoying the simpler things in life or exploring New Zealand (for example), discovering more of this marvellous world that God has given us. Maybe I will turn this blog into a travelogue – in any case, I will stay positive; it is my nature.

Watch this space.