At Least This Beast is Operable..
The weekend was spent at Paul's mother's in Eastbourne.
I'll never forget her in the garden as I walked in. She knew I was looking at her, urging her on to be strong.. we glanced at each other with looks that said all we needed to say. I desperately wanted to hug her for dear life.. but we both knew we had to act normal for Cam.. and be strong because that's what Paul wanted for now. She and I have talked about it since.. and I'll always be grateful for her strength that day. Love her to bits.
Good to get out of London following the PETscan. We feigned normality for Cam - but all I could think about for every minute was "Not Paul. Please God, don't take him. What am I going to do without him? I can't lose him? What if he's not here? PLEEEEEASE don't die..you're my soul mate and best friend. I love Paul more than anyone. Life doesn't work without him in it"
I cried silently watching him drive, walking along the beach. It's funny how you notice much more about a person when you hear you're going to lose them.
It's the worst feeling in the world to see them in torment. You'd do anything to swap..
The sheer sorrow cuts like a knife.
I never understood the term "soul destroying" before..
Cut to the Tuesday night.
The scan results.
We've caught it early.
It has not spread.
BEST. NEWS. EVER.
There is hope..finally, some hope!!?
(We'd decided not to go with chemo if the disease was too advanced)
Now it's 3-4 rounds of chemotherapy, starting tomorrow.
Cisplatin, Pemetrexedin and Avastin.
Mary the oncologist has brilliantly got us Avastin which strangles the blood supply to the tumours working well with standard chemo.
We've decided to kick a** with chemo. Meso, we're coming for you...
Paul makes a deal right there and then with Mary that he'll put in the exercise and diet and work together with her to beat this.