Disappointed to see Auckland’s Covid numbers go up to 45 after a previous day’s 8 when we thought we had proved the naysayers wrong. We could eliminate Delta, we insisted.

But no more of that for now. I have just come home from a trip to the hospital and my fears turned true. There’s an ulcer on my left tonsillar pillar and it looks cancerous. I had about three biopsies of that and of a dodgy patch of irritation on my right cheek.

I have had a lot of near misses in the last seven years and they’ve all been negative up to now. As with Delta, I thought I might get away with it this time too but no. The surgeon said he could see an ulcer in the tonsil area and soon after he said it did look like cancer. I appreciated that because uncertainty can be worse than bad news and now I don’t have to wait with baited breath for the biopsy results.

I’d been restless and anxious all lockdown because scheduled surgery (to remove my broken teeth, insert implants and take a biopsy of my cheek) was running late even before we shut down and I knew it would be delayed even more.

Then to my surprise I developed a new pain on the left side of my throat, sometimes feeling as if it was coming from the back of my tongue or my ear. It rumbled on mildly for a few weeks and then got worse and I managed to get an appointment at the hospital. I was lucky I had lots of contacts because heck, I was reluctant to bother them during Covid.

Funnily enough I know of more than one person due to have positive reconstructive surgery like me only to learn that the cancer had come back. It’s a horrible irony. You’re well past the five years. But in my case with repeated primaries I never signed myself out at five years anyway. Never saw myself as cured. I was warned in 2007 that repeat primaries were a possibility for me.

The day started weirdly. First I misread a text about the appointment time and caused a lot of fuss and bother when I rang to check. Then I absent-mindedly pulled into Hibiscus Coast Station instead of going on to Albany to catch the 866 bus straight to the hospital. In the end I decided to drive there (scary for me) and that part of the journey was straight-forward. Gillies Ave, Park Rd, plenty of parking in a half full carpark, 30 minutes early.

Then the appointment and soon into it the bad news. I took off my scarf for the biopsies, must have put it back on absent-mindedly and panicked when I got back to the waiting room. Turned back to the clinic to have a look for it. “You’re wearing it,” they said. Forgot to take my script to the hospital pharmacy and had to check back in to enter the hospital.

Three bottles of morphine and a few messages to friends and family and I was back in my car but drove out without turning on Mrs Google Maps. Drove around and around central Auckland before pulling over and turning her on. Went down Howe Street at one stage which was lined by huge English trees in their soft new green foliage. Always have an eye for beauty.

Phew, smooth trip home after that. Lots of messaging and then a phone call from the department who were going to do my big dental surgery (max fax). They were prioritising my delayed surgery and had ordered the implants. They knew about my suspicious lesion and would work with that, meaning I could have the cancer removed at the same time as the teeth and insertion of implants. Well, the nurse implied they would be ready for me when and if the time arose.

It was made very clear to me in the clinic that everything depended on an urgent scan. I totally get that. And my surgeon did mention the possibility of removing the cancer and doing the other surgery at the same time but it was extremely tentative and sounded too good to be true. So I was quite relieved when I heard from the max fax nurse. It’s also amazing (to me) to be offered reconstructive surgery in these circumstances.

Cancer is a rollercoaster though. Your hopes are dashed one minute and raised the next. You have to hold on tight. Same with the Covid outbreak …