My name’s Chris and I have a brain tumour. I live in a small village in South Cheshire, UK, with my wife, young daughter and quite elderly and maladjusted cat.

I have immediate family and extended family who all love, care and offer help but I don’t mention any of them specifically wherever possible as I respect their privacy. It’s really important to have those people in my life and for them to know I’m not broadcasting their every move. A brain tumour may live in one person, but it’s presence ripples out like the surface of a pond where a stone has been thrown. Everyone handles it differently dependent on the nature of the relationship. I’m me, a husband, a father, a son, a brother, a nephew, an uncle, a friend, a colleague, a neighbour. I’m a grandson too, but my grandparents have all gone. I think about them often.

I work in IT for a national organisation, but *yawn* I can’t imagine you want to hear about that. I both like and enjoy it and that’s all that matters.

I am an avid fan of music as a trained musician, an experienced tenor in choirs, amateur at many instruments, and I completed a Master of Research in music technology. I wrote innovative software for interactive live performance combining musicians and electronics.

I’m interested in cars, both driving and manufacture but generally don’t bore people with this. Autotrader is a frequent destination. My hobby of looking at obscure car adverts on the internet isn’t usually a great conversation opener.

I confess to watching so much Homes Under the Hammer that during the opening summary I can spot whether it’s going to be a repeat or an update on a property that was incomplete in a previous episode. If you like Homes Under the Hammer you might like this article. You might also appreciate this video by Dave Gorman.

I love stand up comedy not only for the reason it makes me laugh. I enjoy watching the tempo and the craft of telling a story. The best stand up comedy hinges on a feeling that one of your very funny mates is telling you a story in the pub and finds it so funny themselves that they enjoy telling it to you. Greg Davies is a particular master at this.

Spotify is my favourite app, and something I could only have imagined as a kid. It’s as glorious as Google Street View. Sure, it’s compromised throughout with songs appearing then disappearing, payment to artists and the business model it operates. They really need to fix that. Making a living from creative work looks especially hard. But I can use it seamlessly on my phone, laptop, TV and in my car. You can listen to my public playlists by reading this page.

I hope you find my posts give a glimpse at life with a brain tumour. Maybe you find them informative, supportive or amusing. Maybe you don’t. And that’s OK; take whatever you want from them because everyone’s individual in their life outlook.

If you’re living with a brain tumour, firstly I’m really sorry to hear that.

What. A. Kick. In. The. Teeth.

Secondly I can assure you that you aren’t alone. Perhaps I can point you in the right direction. It can be bleak and demoralising. It can make you truly appreciate what’s right in front of you. It can feel like that moment when you’re sitting on the sofa on a gloomy day and the sun suddenly bursts through, instantly illuminating you with it’s warming glow. Those moments are few and far between, I know. Have a read of my diagnosis to see where I’m coming from.

Keep going with whatever health you have. Find something that really matters to you and focus on the important things. Wanting to get better, no matter how seemingly impossible, is the first huge step along a misty path. Everyone’s time on Earth is limited but yours may be shorter than you were expecting. After two years I still struggle to actually comprehend this.

And for goodness sake, if you’re in full health, stop reading my posts until you’ve got off the phone from arranging critical illness cover with your life insurer and completed your will with your solicitor. Do it once and do it right so you can concentrate on the stuff that’s happening now.

Contact me

Comments are enabled for most posts but you can also email me at hello@senseoftumour.blog – I don’t take kindly to junk email or any kind of offensive material. Praise, discussion, offers of yachts and winning lottery tickets are all most welcome.