On Wednesday we were told my husband has cancer. The next day was our wedding anniversary. The day after that, we were told the cancer had spread.
How do you take something like that in? The news was broken by the same doctor who told me Roger had a 50% chance of survival nearly two years ago, when he went from being a seemingly fit and healthy man to having near-fatal blood clots, bowel surgery and an eight-month stay in hospital. The news was just as devastating, maybe even more so.
The difference was that last time he was lying on an operating table when I was told the news, and this time we were given the grim truth together.
My heart broke as we were told it was bowel cancer. How could he have that? He’s been a vegetarian nearly all his life, aren’t we told that’s how you prevent it?
I feel like my world has ended. What can they do? How will we cope? Don’t they know we’ve got two kids at home, jobs to get back to and holidays to plan?
I just feel numb, flat and dazed. I keep thinking I’m going to be sick. I dread going to bed in case I can’t sleep, and have been waking early and sitting downstairs to find some time alone.
It makes me wonder how many other people are walking round taking in such horrific news. Thoughts going through their heads like mine, my worst fears like how will I tell the children? Will they have to grow up without a dad? Interspersed with things like I need to pick up more milk, fill the car with petrol, fix the kitchen floor tiles and rearrange Sam’s swimming lesson.
As for Rog, he’s so weak and tired, he just feels hollowed out and is struggling to take it all in.
There’s no easy way to write this, but there’s no easy way to deal with it all either.