This feels so surreal writing this, its as though I am writing it for someone else. It’s taken quite a while to compose this one, had to go away and come back a couple of times.
The day before I flew to Vegas I got a call from my breast care nurse. I was shopping in Superdrug for last minute holiday bits and saw an unknown number calling me. Normally that means the hospital and as I had mentioned I didn’t want any results until I was back I thought maybe she was phoning with good news so I could go away happy.
She asked where I was and did I want to phone her back when I got home. Err….no thanks, from the tone in your voice I know its bad news and I wont be hanging up the phone until you tell me. In the meantime I have walked out of the shop with my basket full off goodies….whoops! There are some new lung nodules that have popped up and it doesn’t look good, can I go into see my oncologist tomorrow. Think you’ll find I’m off to Las Vegas tomorrow. That’s when it hit my BCN that she has done something that I asked not to, she felt awful. She apologised so much but the damage was already done. I can’t be too mad though as she is normally an amazing support to us.
That night we were off to stay in a hotel at Heathrow ready for our flight in the morning. It was there (well the pub down the road) we got drunk and decided to not let it affect our holiday and to try not to mention it whilst we were away. I mean what would it change?!
So we did it, we went to Las Vegas and had a bloody amazing time. We ate, we drank, we laughed, we did a zipwire (which was terrifying for someone petrified of heights!) and we renewed our wedding vows! All in all an awesome holiday with two awesome friends who were able to take our minds off what was going on back home.
When we got back my breast nurse managed to squeeze me in for an appointment with my oncologist on Wednesday. There was a tiny part of me that thought/hoped that he would say there was a possibility that it could be something else.
No such luck.
The changes in my lung are tiny, so tiny that they can’t biopsy but they can see enough to know its cancer.
This means, its spread. Stage 4. Secondary. Metastatic. Incurable. Bollocks.
It’s early stages so there are quite a few treatment options to try. First thing my oncologist wants to go for is a immunotherapy trial. He is going to contact the correct people and hope there is something out there for me. If there isn’t at this time then it will be standard chemo until something becomes available. But I will be having some sort of treatment forever more now.
At the moment we are in complete shock and walking around in a daze. I don’t know what I want to do but what I do know is that my body doesn’t want to sleep or eat at the moment. I’m terrified of turning the light off at night and shutting my eyes, so I don’t.
I think if I write down exactly how I feel right now and seeing it in black and white I would break down. So for now we wait, we wait for me to go in for a brain scan that will be needed for any trial people we go to and we wait to be contacted to see what the next step is going to be.
I’m sorry if we didn’t get to speak to you personally about this, it has been ridiculously hard to tell people.
Life has to carry on, especially for my two gorgeous boys who do not deserve any of this shit. So around them we are trying to be as normal as we can…..very tough at times as I just want to hug them and never let them go.