Seven years ... seven years passed at the speed of light! The duck is still alive and happy to be so. And yet, at this time, I feared for my life. What's changed in the final? Everything!

Saying that I am filled with serenity and joy of living would be a euphemism. Apart from the regular check-up at the Institut Curie, that I cannot change (when they have a client, they don’t let him go) the rest of my life was simply and naturally configured again otherwise. It was as if I suddenly discovered that my apartment was really nice but not really functional and rather dimly lit, poorly ventilated or noisy. Then, I decided to redo the paint, to create new spaces, new openings and to throw out the disruptive elements.
Redesigning from the floor to the ceiling without changing my soul at the same time.

I did the same in my daily life. I got to the heart of the matter by telling myself that I had come close to dying. That danger was far from being eliminated and that if I wanted to be happier and have a better living in a different way, there would be some painful choices to make. The serenity is simple but it still has to be deserved!

From now on, when a problem emerges, the first question I ask to myself is: "can we die from it?" Apart from the ridicule that can sometimes kill brutally, if the answer to the question is yes, I launch ORSEC plan. If the answer is no, I calm people down by telling myself that there are certainly more serious things than the ones I am dealing or living with, so there is really no cause for panic. It gives me an incredible strength, which, some time, even surprised me. I feel like I’m a steamroller. Nothing can stop me. Even if, sometimes, I’ve only a little chance to succeed in what I’m undertaking, no matter. I'm trying anyway ... and often ... to the general astonishment.... It works!! Cheek gives me wings and I even feel like I’m rubbing off on Francis, who is now launching himself into undertakings that he would probably never have endeavoured before, given the low success rate expected. My enthusiasm is contagious. I know that sometimes I’m doing too much. My relatives tell me that I should calm down, or I will end up getting myself tired (or themselves?) . It’s lasted for seven years, when fatigue will come, I’ll be calm, I promise!

Another detail but not the least, I'm much more comfortable with the sick or disabled people.. That's a windfall because now I'm working around new technologies and hospitalized children. It’s perhaps because I endured attacks from a crab rather loth that I feel close to these children whose time has come to fight against the disease. For example, when I have to go through the intensive care unit of a large hospital in which I regularly step in to visit a young tetraplegic teenager following a hand ball accident (I’m afraid so, it doesn’t only happen to the others!) I am only guided by his smile, his beautiful eyes and the kindness that comes out from him. I forget everything else. We are all mobilized to bring him Internet access in his intensive care room. Since we can’t change his future, we changed his everyday life. I still hope that medicine will make rapid progress and that one day we’ll be able to pull him out of trouble and give him back at least a little autonomy. I am fortunate to be able to ignore all these off-putting aspects of the surrounding anthill and the dependence of this teen to only think positively. And so much the better! Yes, the disease changed me.

All this does not prevent me from trembling like everybody else since I have a superficial wound that might suggest a metastasis. There is no miracle cure against this stress. If there was one, I think we would already have noticed it. I try very mundanely to make sure that anxiety does not settle permanently in my mind when this type of misfortune occurs. Then, without being an extreme hypochondriac, I take the initiative and I begin the necessary examinations.. Just to know, for example, whether it is a hip osteoarthritis or a bone metastasis that makes me suffer. When the radiologist tells me that I have a strong osteoarthritis crisis I would like to throw my arms around his neck. I’m not sure that he would understand my act if I would follow through my desire.

The kindness of the people who took care of me at the Institut Curie and, some of them who became great friends (sister Genevieve, Santa Claus...) will be always in my heart. I know that if, one day, things were to turn out badly for me, someone will go with me in my last instants without intensive medication or unnecessary suffering. Just with dignity. It takes a big weight off my shoulders.

For the moment there is no problem. François, Garusse and I are living halcyon days and we try to show this happiness to all our loved ones. And this means a lot of people but... when you love someone you don’t calculate!