Melting Point...

This morning I had a bit of an emotional meltdown in the oncologist's room. It was really just a continuation of an emotional meltdown that had been slowly unravelling since we last saw the oncologist . Lovely but terribly honest man. I told him this morning that I thought being given a terminal diagnosis was the worst part ...turns out it's not.

I'm writing this in the Chemotherapy Day Unit at Peter Mac, surrounded by the lulling whirs and beeps of machines and comings and goings of staff and patients. One of the nurses we've met a few times went past before and said 'how are you? '  'Great' , I replied cheerfully....thinking inwardly 'Really Mhags, really? '

Today we were finding out the results of Scott's latest CT scan. We were finding out whether chemotherapy was being effective as a palliative measure. We were finding out if it was worth doing any more chemotherapy. We were finding out if there was any spread of cancer. We were finding out if things were worse. We were finding out just how emotionally tolerant I am....the answer to that is not very. The answers to the others ...this may be the last chemo of this kind we do, the tumour is still there (it was never going to be going anywhere in particular but it's not grown and it's not spread) it might not be worse but it's certainly not any better. Chemotherapy carries its own risks and side effects which can outweigh its positive effects so this is most likely the last one we do...the other 2 cycles that were planned may be just too toxic for Scott.

We've to continue living our lives to our best ability. We've done so much in past 3 months since re-diagnosis...been to Marks and Spencer's, climbed bridges, seen kangaroos up close, said good morning to koalas at Taronga Zoo from the outside of zoo, saved an echidna's life on the Hume Highway ( I just hope it wasn't squished crossing the other side) , been loved by a Labrador, done all the  day to day normal stuff...work,  groceries, dog walking, gardening, housework (that'll be me! ) , it's just punctuated by medical stuff. Normal still goes on; essays , assignments , homework still have to be done. The commute to work still needs to be driven, the relentless quest of what's for dinner ( steak pie and roast potatoes and parsnips tonight..all pre-prepared) goes on and on...

As long as no one minds me sobbing in a corner...I'm fairly discreet , we shall keep on keeping on.