My next set of scan results are just days away.

This Monday I will find myself once again preparing for a morning in oncology followed by an afternoon in neurology at Queen Square. 

Returning to the hospital always brings a certain weight but something about Queen Square carries its own gravity. 

It’s the place where I’ve faced some of the toughest moments on my journey - from surgeries to memories of friends who didn’t make it. 

My friend Roberto passed away here, and every time I walk through those doors, I confront that echo of mortality. 

It’s a reminder of life’s fragility, of the fact that one day, it might be my turn.

Over the past few weeks, as these appointments drew nearer, I started exploring a different way of looking at my tumour and the experience of living with uncertainty. 

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I’ve been working with quantum physics, particularly the theory of superposition. 

Superposition suggests that a particle can exist in multiple states simultaneously until it’s observed and then it collapses into one reality. 

I’ve applied this idea to my life with the tumour, not letting my thoughts collapse into a single, fixed outcome. 

Embracing the unknown has brought a surprising sense of peace.

I’ve also taken to the golf course this week, where I’ve found an unlikely sense of harmony between quantum theory and the simple rhythm of the game. 

The beauty of golf is that it requires complete focus on the moment, the alignment, the swing, the follow-through. 

If I let my mind drift too far forward, the shot is lost. 

In a way, the golf course has become my grounding place, a reminder to stay in the present and resist the urge to anticipate Monday’s results. 

Combining golf with the concept of superposition has helped me find balance in a way that few things have. 

For now, I’m here, in this inbetween state, not tied to one outcome. I’m content with that.

The idea of superposition has shifted my perspective on the MRI, and on life itself. 

Normally, in the lead up to a scan, my thoughts would inevitably narrow down to a single question: Will it be good news or bad news? 

This mindset drove me to chase highs through sport which always led to extreme lows.  

But this time, I’m allowing myself to exist in multiple states simultaneously. 

I’m embracing both possibilities, both outcomes, without letting one overpower the other. 

In doing so, I’m not avoiding reality but rather holding space for all of it and embracing the fact that I simply don’t know yet.

Quantum theory may sound abstract, but for me, it’s become a lifeline. 

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It’s about learning to coexist with uncertainty, accepting that there’s a kind of freedom in not knowing. 

In fact, by not collapsing into a single mindset, I’m free to experience my life fully without the weight of a predetermined outcome. 

I’ve found that the act of “not knowing” can actually be liberating and freeing. Instead of fixating on a single narrative, one that might bring anxiety or fear, 

I’m allowing my mind to float between different possibilities, like leaves drifting on the water’s surface.

As I sit here writing this weeks column, I’m content. 

Whatever comes on Monday, I’ve made peace with the outcome, knowing I’ve done everything I can. 

The idea of superposition has given me permission to live fully in this space before the results, a space where I am both hopeful and prepared. 

It has allowed me to let go of the need to control or anticipate what’s next. It may seem counterintuitive, but embracing all possibilities has been the key to finding calm.

Of course, this mindset doesn’t erase the underlying tension of the hospital visit. 

Stepping into Queen Square will never be easy. It will always remind me of Roberto, of past surgeries, and of the vulnerability of this journey. 

But by carrying the idea of superposition with me, I’m walking in with a renewed sense of resilience. 

I don’t have to be confined to a single outcome. I’m not defined by one possible future. 

Instead, I’m a person existing in the present, open to whatever comes, holding both hope and acceptance in equal measure and with this I have fund a sense f freedom, I guess freedom comes from acceptance and surrender. 

So as I approach Monday, I hold onto this balance. 

I’ve realised that living in superposition isn’t about denying reality, it’s about honouring the many possible paths my life might take on Monday. 

It’s about understanding that we all, in our own ways, live in states of possibility, holding more outcomes within us than we sometimes realise. 

And while this Monday’s results may force reality into one shape or another, until then, I’m content to float in this space, fully alive in the presence of what might be, and at peace with what is and what will be.