Hiya, I'm back, have to warn you though this one isn't going to be funny in the slightest.
I was feeling great recovering at home, amazing what fun and amusement Ju and I can have, Andy is back at work.
It's Tuesday, I knew we were going to Walton to see Mr Farah on Wednesday as planned for a review and the biopsy results; late morning our house phone rang, thinking it was 'The Drugs Police' (Andy) teehee bless him ,he calls me probably half a dozen times a day with the immortal words "Are you OK, have you done your drugs"? So I expected the call to be from him, wrong!. A lady was on the other end of the phone, she explained she was a nurse in a team who worked in conjunction with Mr Farah's team and that she was calling to tell me an appointment had been scheduled for me with the Clatterbridge team at the Walton Centre on Thursday. Thursday? I asked, I thought it was tomorrow? Not taking in the word Clatterbridge and the consequences of that the nurse explained "no, your appointment with Mr Farah is tomorrow as planned, this is another appointment with the team from Clatterbridge". It still wasn't sinking in, I just said oh, ok, I'll tell Andy. As I put the phone down I felt like I'd been hit with a hammer, my legs went and I had to sit down. The words in my head were "Oh my god, I've got cancer", Clatterbridge is our local Cancer Hospital, I was numb, inadvertently I'd been told I had cancer. I reached for the phone to call Andy at work. I explained the call even he queried the day, I then said "No this is Thursday, with the Clatterbridge team, so much for getting the biopsy results tomorrow I must have cancer!" Andy said "I'm on my way home....
On getting home the three of us, June was very much still here were in a state of shock, I felt fine in myself, how could I have cancer? It was a tough night, none of us slept well.
Wednesday 21st August 2013, we arrived at The Walton Centre and made our way to the out patients team, the wait seemed lengthy and we were beyond our appointment time and the place was busy, my name was called and we arrived in a consultation room where one of Mr Farah's registrars was sitting along with two nurses. We shook hands and sat down having done the introductions and the apologies for the delay. I was asked how I was, "I'm not sure I replied, I had a call yesterday telling me I have an appointment tomorrow with the Clatterbridge team, so I assume I have cancer?" Nothing could prepare me or Andy for the bomb that was about to land..
The registrar, forgive me with the shock of all this we cannot recall his name, he started, "your operation was a complete success, we removed all visible signs of the tumour, unfortunately the biopsy results confirm this is an incurable form of brain cancer, whilst we have removed all visible cells this is a grade four cancer, it is aggressive, very aggressive". I felt Andy squeeze my hand, "what did he say?" ran through my mind. Andy for once was totally lost for words, I drew a breath and said "It can be treated though?" I'll never forget what followed, "we can give you radiotherapy and chemotherapy that's what Clatterbridge will discuss with you tomorrow but sadly it remains incurable, you will ultimately succumb to this" It was my time to go dumbstruck! Andy realising what was said asked "How long does she have?" The Doctor looked at me as he answered, "I can give you a rough idea, but do you want to know?", I shook my head "No!, no I don't want to know" Andy looked at me as if to say surely you need to know, I didn't, I wanted to wake up from this nightmare but we were both numb. The Doctor explained the Clatterbridge team would take us through everything tomorrow and treatment would start probably the following week. there wasn't much else to say, we were both reeling, we stood up to leave, it was bizarre hearing Andy politely thanking the Doctor for his time & I apologised for crying! One of the nurses sensed our distress, she asked if we wanted a quiet room to take this in, we said please. Outside we stood in the crowded waiting area whilst the nurse tried to find a room, Andy and I were clinging to each other for dear life, we were both crying, in my mind I was hearing "I'm going to die, I'm too young, It's not my time, oh my god, my family" People around us must have realised we'd been hit with bad news, I suspect to this day none of them will ever realise just how bad.. The nurse appeared she'd found a room with one chair in it, she offered to get us glasses of water, we accepted, I sat down Andy knelt in front of me, we grabbed each other and wailed, it was hell for us both, no words were spoken we just sobbed and sniffed. The nurse returned with our water, well one cup. we thanked her and she offered her sympathy, we thanked her as she explained about how excellent Clatterbridge was(is). I still wasn't taking much in, I was thinking about how I was going to tell my children. In a split second my rational side kicked in "Get me out of here".
On the short but oh so long walk to the car, neither of us spoke, we were numb & devastated, as the remote opened the car doors Andy opened mine and I got in, Andy got behind the wheel,he started the car and he turned to hug me, "get me away from here, I want to be somewhere quiet".
Andy drove for what seemed like an age, "I'm taking us to Crosby" he said, its five miles away and where the mouth of the Mersey meets the Irish Sea, and where Anthony Gormley's Another Place statues feature on the beach and in the sea, its tranquil. We parked up and we hugged each other for grim life again we cried like babies, we cried until my mouth was dry I needed a drink, there was a burger van, Andy went and got us tea.... Our tears had run dry, Mrs practical was back, "We need to go home to tell June, she'll be worried, I'll call her to tell her we are on our way".....
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