M.I.A.

Sorry I have been M.I.A. Had a terrible rollercoaster of a week. Thank you for your support and sorry to keep you hanging! Catching up with my writing this weekend so will post as I go.

Day 109- Monday

Few things I forgot to mention yesterday in my rush to get to bed with my new bag! Dr K phoned to tell me that he had the MRI scan but it had not been reported on officially so he couldn't give my any definite answers. I will be discussed in the 'tumour meeting' today and then he will let me know. So today is the day.

Did the thing I promised myself I wouldn’t do this morning- checked statistics for stage 4 colon cancer. Not pretty.  If  I have a met on the liver that can be successfully removed with surgery, I have a 25-40% chance of being alive in 5 years. And this fact is from a reliable source- cancer research UK. How depressing is that. Don't know whether to laugh, cry or write my will. I know I am jumping the gun here and as my granddad said yesterday (forgot to mention this) " don't go looking for problems with your health", but still how do I process that? In fact as I am reading these stats my granddad, in the form of the Eurasian hoopoe, taps on the window.  He is obviously telling me to stop!

I know everyone is different and stats are a general trend but, If that is the case it wouldn't even be fair to try for children would it? It would be really hard to get on with your life always wondering what side f the statistics you will fall.

I get the dreaded phone call. Dr Khan says they have found something new on my scan and I need to go to the hospital to discuss. Absolutely devastated. Phone Matt and he is going to leave school early to come and pick us up and take us to hear the results. Can't stop crying.

When we get to oncology you know you are getting bad news. Nurse 'N' gives Matt a sympathetic pat on the arm and the receptionist and accounts man can't look me in the eye. Dr 'K' enters the room and his whole demeanor is different. As I have said before he normally has an air of calm around him, but not today. He looks depressed.

Somehow I manage to keep calm and this is what I am told. The MRI has picked up an area measuring 3.5-4cm of abnormal tissue. It wasn't there on previous scans which would suggest it has grown on chemo. The Drs in the 'tumour meeting' agree that it is highly suspicious and there is a strong possibility it is cancer. The fact it has grown on chemo means the cancer is aggressive and chemo resistant. My only options are surgical and there is no one in Dubai who can do this operation. The area is near the major blood vessels of my liver so it will be a difficult job. My odds of long term survival have now dropped from 70% to 10%. He shows me the scans and the area is big and you can clearly see something is not right. It is the shape of a cloud with ill defined edges and appears to be a different texture to the rest of my liver. I do remember the word 'cure' being used and I thank god. So I need to have a PET scan, stop chemo and find a good surgeon.

When I see nurse 'N' I break down. This is the worse possible news and I am devastated. This is the best way to describe it. I feel like my life is over and I am so disappointed and shocked. How could the chemo not be working when it makes me feel so bad? How unfair is this? Nurse 'N' takes me to the PET scan to book an appointment. On the way I ask her "does this mean that colon cancer is going to kill me and it is just a matter of how many years?" she tells me to remain positive and that I have options that can still help me. The PET scan is booked for Wednesday as I have to have a special diet for 24 hours.

We get home in a sea of tears. Matt, mum and Holly are remaining positive. It makes me want to scream at them "Why aren't you crying? I'm dying". I don't want to hear about the 10% who survive, I don't want these statistics on my life. I have just been given a life sentence. My life, at the very best, is now going to be filled with operations removing my body parts to keep me alive.

When we get in I have to skype my dad with the news. How do you tell someone this news. It is heartbreaking. I have only ever seen my dad cry at his parents funerals. How am I suddenly the person telling their dad that they may be dying? Two weeks ago I was moaning about chemo and looking forward to June. Looking forward to my future