I didn't see that coming!

Yesterday evening Mr Abbadi told us that there was no point in operating on the tumour as the cancer has spread to the stomach lining and is therefore incurable. Chemotherapy will slow it down...and will hopefully start soon. I have had such a happy and lucky life that such a bummer of a diagnosis never occurred to me, though I think G was half expecting it.

I am sorry to put it so baldly, and of course Mr A put it much more gently. What a terrible job to have to tell people they have terminal cancer! I never expected to hear the 't' word applied to me. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely included another 20 years of life, seeing the grandchildren grow up and lots more travelling (Namibia, Costa Rica....) I guess I imagined being like my mother,having a stroke, being incontinent etc. I wasn't looking forward to that fate but at least I'd have had my four score years and ten. We are greedy now, aren't we, we expect four score years rather than the biblical three score...

Anyway, I'm having a day today as I keep weeping so not good for talking! Everything I look at makes me cry from my house plants to my history of art books, from our collection of paintings to all my earrings. Mr A said positive attitude was important and a fighting spirit. Geoff and I together have those weapons, and we'll work on a plan when I stop crying. In the meantime, he is making me eat sensibly, doing all the chores, tending the garden and finishing the 4th (and last) edition of his Seapower book. He has energy and positive attitude enough for both of us!

Easter weekend

No, a good night's sleep didn't help me to feel better! Not surprising really after general anaesthetic, three holes in my tum, heavy bruising and presumably the same on the inside. Gradually I'm feeling a bit less sore physically, and having the family here for the long weekend was lovely.  There was lots of eating, of course, and essential  Easter chocolate. Beth and Chrissie organised an elaborate treasure hunt masterminded by The God Bunny (never trust a wabbit). They all did all sorts of useful jobs, like cleaning my horribly neglected oven and extractor fan! They're all so cheerful, positive and helpful, though Phil and I did shed some tears together.

There's no denying, however, that I feel very low at the moment. I expect it's the anaesthetic effect. Also my heart lurched and I didn't take in much else when Mr Abbadi mentioned shadowing on the peritoneum as a dear 'history of art' friend Linda died of that last April.

I do so wish some sort of real action could occur. The 'taking things carefully' is not very appealing for someone who longs to have this tumour removed. Today we visited a cardiologist for a second opinion. Although he agreed with the basic premise that my heart can't take a big op, he was helpful as he explained objectively the possible options going forward. And we're hoping Mr Abbadi will tell us on Tuesday evening which option he and his team favours and why. And then we can see some action?

Not the good news we hoped for!

I've just got home after a night 'under observation'! I'm starting to get a phobia about anaesthetists who are so ultra cautious (afraid of being sued?)

Anyway, this is just a short, bald update, with more tomorrow when I've had a decent night's sleep. The laparoscopy went fine, no heart problems. But Mr Abbadi found 4 or 5 'shadows' or 'areas of concern' by the liver and on the lining of the abdomen. Samples have gone off for biopsy but I think it's clear that the cancer is spreading. If by some miracle none of them are cancerous, then the cardiologist will be in touch next week to organise a heart valve op. Pigs might fly.

So I have time to recover from the laparoscopy and then will see Mr A on Tuesday week to discuss the next step, probably chemo. Time to organise the wig, which could be fun.

More hopeful?

Well, we felt much more cheerful last night on our way back from Bristol, and it wasn't just because the sun was shining, the roads were quiet and the M32 was NOT closed!

The pre-op was fine with the usual repetitive questions, blood taking etc. All the nurses were kind and efficient, as you'd expect. Maybe the Bristol Royal Infirmary is not the hospital from hell after all...

What really cheered us up was bumping into Mr Abbadi by the lifts. He confirmed that the laparoscopy is definitely next Tuesday 11th (we had not had hospital confirmation tho did get a phonecall this morning) and he wants me in at 7am for a 7.30 start. And he says there's lots of planning with cardiologists going on behind the scenes...So maybe some action is coming?

In the evening was my Book Club where it was good to see all the 'girls'. We had quite a lively discussion about the Atul Gawande 'Being Mortal', which I mentioned before, over a glass of wine. No conclusions reached, of course, except that we all want to grow old, keeping marbles and health and dying in our own beds. No one wants dementia or terminal illness but at least we've been encouraged to face our options and what choices we might make. Now I can go back to my undemanding, escapist thrillers and detective stories...

Keeping positive!

Having a cancer diagnosis has an amazing effect on one's life! I'm mostly sleeping fine and during the day I can escape into a book or into family company or a walk or an episode of West Wing... but it's always there, appearing in one's mind as soon as one wakes up in the morning and popping up like pesky spam in unguarded moments. We're obviously great planners, with all our travelling, but all that is on hold now. Easter is about the best I can manage, less than 2 weeks away... As for the rest of the year, who knows?

Certainly sleep helps one keep things in perspective, and talking to friends and family. And some definite medical dates. Tuesday is pre-op day and the following Tuesday 11th the fishing expedition, to see how my heart behaves during a short investigation and to have a good look inside at whether the cancer really is contained. Then hopefully action on heart. Contrary to what some people think, private patients can't insist on treatment doctors regard as dangerous. Nor can they queue jump in NHS hospitals where the intensive care wards are!

So life carries on. This weekend has been lovely: Phil and Chrissie came down for 2 nights; we had 2 excellent walks to look at our own local burial long barrow and along the canal and today to Avebury, which was predictably teeming. What glorious weather, warm Spring sunshine, lots of flowers and fresh green growth. P&C brought books and cds, cooked, mowed grass, helped Geoff mend an annoyingly drippy water butt, deadheaded daffs, picked rhubarb, caught up on their sleep and generally we had a good laugh.

Many thanks for all the encouraging messages, postcards and advice!