Today is not a day I wanted to see again. 2nd February 2011 and I heard those words for the first time “Strongly suspected lung cancer”. A precise yet misleading jumble of words only superceded in its devastation by the final field on a form flashed up on screen at the doctor’s surgery a week later:
<header> Prognosis=
<body copy> 6-12 months.
Of course there was to be nothing as munificent as a whole year.
And so the rollercoaster began. The concrete cancer diagnosis, the tests that confirmed its spread to the liver. The terrifying fits and subsequent brain scans that showed further metastisis. Radiotherapy. Chemotherapy.
And then 10 weeks later, the end.
So it’s a year to the day my sister rang to tell me the routine scan bore shadows.
And with those words I remember she took my voice. Leaning against the glass of my patio doors for support, silent, the breath sucked right out of me. Curious physiology.
All my love, thoughts and big hugs are with you. Days like these can really knock you xxx
I am sending (((HUGS))) through the internet and over the ocean. Thinking of you…
So many milestones that are hard, reminders everywhere. I am sending you a big hug my lovely X
Oh Henri.
xxx
sending lots of love
Oh Henrietta, I’m late, but I’m always here. You remind me of that moment I found out too. Feeling everything drop, emitting a sound that didn’t feel like me, glasses of wine been emptied,the guests making excuses and leaving. But at the same time feeling my son kicking furiously in my tummy.
Hugs xx