A new phase of life

My last blog seems a life-time ago.  Last Wednesday we went for my follow-up visit to the oncologist.  It was a bit nerve-racking, and if I had been told that the CT scan showed a recurrence of the bowel cancer or liver secondaries, I would have been prepared.  I wasn't prepared to be told I had a lung secondary, and the news froze my brain for a bit.  The consultant told me the treatment was more chemotherapy, which couldn't start until I had finished the last lot for three months, to let my body recover enough to be battered again!  I did pull myself together enough to ask how he knew it was a secondary from the bowel and not breast, from my primary 8 years ago, and would the treatment be different.  He said the treatment would be different but thought the risks of a biopsy outweighed the chance of it being a breast secondary.  The history and the fact that the cancer had been at the very edge of the original specimen made bowel the most likely diagnosis.  He had given me a prognosis of 6-12 months without treatment, maybe doubling this with treatment, so I wasn't thinking very critically.

Joe was having a much-needed break in Spain with Sally, having a wonderful time, and we were not prepared to spoil his last two days.  Mary-Ann took it on the chin; like me she tends to prepare herself for the worst case scenario.  She was desperate to talk to Joe, but agreed we should not tell him until he was home.  Neither of us knew what time he was expected, and by Friday afternoon we were getting a bit twitchy about the possibility of Facebook giving us away.  By the time he got home and had re-charged his phone he had numerous text messages asking if he was home yet, and suspected something was going on.

Joe's reaction was to cancel his week's work, apologise for not being at Sally's daughter's birthday party and get himself home the next day.  Sally joined him yesterday, specifically to hear us sing with the choir at the candlelight service last night.  She had a horrendous journey with windscreen washers freezing up and a multi-police-car incident on the M6 to unsettle her.  My  sister Mary had spent Saturday with us and had a similar journey on Sunday morning.

I couldn't let everyone know the news on my blog as planned because of the possibility that Joe might read it, so I sent a group e-mail to family and another to friends.  Every single person has made a response of love and good wishes, and I feel very cherished.  Church people have been free with hugs.  There is something to be said for cramming the rest of your life into a shorter time than planned, it really brings life into focus.  I still feel pretty good, and it is hard to know this won't go on indefinitely, but for now I am just living each day as it comes, being thankful for it, and enjoying it.

We are still going to Devon on the 30th, and Dave has decided to stay for the 2+weeks.  This interval before I start chemo again may well be the best I get, and it seems very unfair for him to miss it and then pick up on the misery of chemo.

A surgeon friend yesterday expressed some surprise that I was to have further chemo without a biopsy, and pointed out that breast cancer commonly spreads after a long time, whereas bowel cancer rarely spreads to the lung.  I am still contemplating asking for a biopsy in spite of the risks, but I remembered this morning that my oncologist told me they had discussed me at their meeting before my appointment, so I am up against a body of specialist opinion.  I was offered the choice however, and I think I might need a confirmed diagnosis to have the courage to go through with the treatment.  Watch this space.

This is not a very entertaining blog I am afraid, but I needed to set this down as a landmark situation.  I am genuinely having a really nice time.  I have never had so much attention, so many visits and hugs.  Compare that with old folks in a home....Enough said.