It’s up and down. The most important thing is that my life is back in my own hands again.

Some people say it’s not a good idea to research your own medical condition. For me, it helped throughout those long months. I want to understand things. I want to know the probability of every possible scenario. I want to prepare in advance. I don’t like surprises. If something is bad, I want to know how bad. If it’s good, I want to know how much it’s going to cost me. Because nothing comes for free.

All it took was typing a few keywords into a search engine at the beginning, and ever since, cancer has been coming at me from every direction on social media. Suddenly, I was seeing people who were still fighting it, people so drained by it that they spent most of their days in bed or needed a wheelchair to get around. I saw people celebrating their hair growing back, their chemo curls. It’s behind us! Oh, wait. Actually, it’s not. It never will be. Just don’t think about it. Be grateful you’re alive.

Sometimes that works. But when you wake up in the morning with a stiff body, joint pain that doesn’t just go away, when even walking a little faster leaves you out of breath… it’s not that easy. And then there’s surgical menopause. Yes, menopause is something most women will eventually go through. But most approach it gradually and can do quite a lot to make the transition easier. Now imagine it happening all at once. From one hour to the next. Some experiences simply can’t be explained to someone who hasn’t been through them, and this is one of them. So no, it’s not the same for all of us.

English has a good word for this: mindfuck. I can’t think of an equivalent in my own language. Apparently, it can be described as “total confusion in your head.” To me, it’s like having landmines inside your head. One wrong move, one wandering thought. Boom. And once one goes off… boom, boom… Boom. The Chinese say good things come in pairs. Bad things apparently come by the dozen.

When I have wine in the evening, and I have a bit too much, after a while I stop caring about everything. And I sleep better. People sometimes drown themselves in alcohol, bad relationships, shopping, food. Everyone has their thing. These days, everyone seems to be travelling. They go somewhere new, somewhere foreign, and feel amazing. So obviously, the problem must be the place they have to return to. Except I’ve met people who eventually moved to that wonderful new place. Wine bars by the river, weekend off-road trips, coconut drinks on the beach… I mean, I lived in a place people fly to for their honeymoons. But even if they served you those cocktails in golden glasses, eventually the gold would wear off. And there you are, clenching your jaw again when all the bad things come back. Because those things travel fast. And they don’t need a plane ticket.

It’s never a solution. And it’s a choice. At least that part is. It’s a choice to have a drink today. By now, everyone knows where it can lead if you drink too much tomorrow as well, and the day after, and for the rest of the week. You can also choose not to drink. I can choose not to destroy that entire bar of chocolate. But I could. Nobody would know, and it wouldn’t even show.

I used to be against the crutches we feel the need to lean on as we make our way through life. But in China, I came to understand that we can’t really do without them. So now I try to choose the ones that don’t cost me too much. I thought writing would be one of them. But there’s so much I could write about that most of the time I end up writing nothing at all. So right now, autumn walks in our forests are at the top of my list. They make me feel good.

I’ve been on maintenance treatment for three months now. Three months in complete remission. That means no cancer was visible on my last scans. My next scans are coming up at the end of this month. I’ve read that people often experience something called “scanxiety” (scan + anxiety) before their check-ups. I get anxious about not having enough information, about secrets, about surprises. But the results themselves? Not so much anymore.

One day, when I was running up a local hill, something happened. Something clicked, and that was it. I’ll tell you about it sometime.

I’m prepared for both possibilities. Everything is clear – we carry on. The cancer is back – I have a plan. And if things turn bad again? I know exactly what I want to do, what I want to write, and which places I want to see. Nothing complicated.

Apparently, though, the chances of the cancer returning in some form during maintenance treatment are low. So I suppose I’ll just enjoy these two years of peace. Feet up. I’m protected. The golden period. Because once it’s over, I’ll be out there in the wild, on my own, for good. But that’s still a long way off. So that’s the main motto for these next two years.

Except then the flu comes along and drags on for three weeks, there are responsibilities and all the other joys of being an adult… and suddenly, the period I had originally pictured in bright, cheerful colours turns grey again.

But that’s life. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and keep going.