Monday, June 1, 2009
Sh*t or very sh*t
Ok so this was it, here we go lets find out what we're dealing with and how we progress. Dr Pirzada as we've said before is a lovely bloke and very quietly spoken, this can be good when breaking bad news but when you're wanting news quickly it can be a little frutrating. I guess it's the old game show technique of building suspense, or it's not being sure how the news will go down, either way the nano seconds of quiet before the conversation felt like years.
The first five minutes of the conversation were disappointing, probably annoying in honesty. Nothing new was said, there were no concrete statements, no solutions and very little to write home about (or to the internet!).
The basics were that the laboratory still hadn't finished diagnoising exactly what the furball is but that it looked 99 percent a Lymphoma. To me that was the best news I'd had for a really long time, I had gone in there with two worst case scenarios. Firstly they had no idea at all what it was, this would be bad in my simple mind as not knowing means it's something rare or complicated or botha nd therefore would take a long time to sort out. Secondly it was terminal, ta very much do not pass go, have a nice two to three months and we'll see you on the other side. I have too much to do, too many laughs to have, too many things yet to experience, I can't die now.
So to be diagnosed with a Lymphoma was brilliant, not sure Dr Pizarda understood my enthusiasm at the news, probably not the response he'd been expecting but to me it was good news. Even better news was he'd spoken to a colleague at Western Park Hospital here in Sheffield and they would see me the next day. Wow, part of me would love to live in Pembrokeshire or New Zealand but boy am I glad that for the time being I live in a city with one of only 3 cancer specialist hospitals in the country.
Now it was news spreading time again. Wend and I had a hug, as simple as it is that physical act of being together brings me so much strength. We hadn't really spoken before the consultation about our hopes, I'd certainly not mentioned my fears. For Wendy I think it was a weird confirmation that all this was real and it wasn't just a furball and it wasn't going to go away. I know that she knew it was real but like me the whole situation has felt so surreal that we were losing what was real and what wasn't. She spoke to her sister and her dad and I phoned work. Judith again was fab and supportive and understanding when I told her I wouldn't be in the next day as I had another appointment. I wanted to speak to the boss as he'd been so supportive through it all. Explaining it was a relief, "yes it's sh*t but it's not very sh*t" I've always been lucky in talking to Roger in a very straight forward manner. "No I can hear the relief in your voice" came the reply, perhaps I hadn't been as good at hiding the stress as I had thought I was. I guess it's strange how just someone noticing can make a difference, this simple sentence mad eme realise what I, we, were going through and how far we had come and that the journey was going to be a long one. That relief also meant I have a chance, a chance to live, a chance to fight for the life that I want to lead not what some poxy furball dictates to me.