Diary of a Daughter 2
And so life goes on……..we still eat drink, work and play. We sleep at night and wake to a new day, the world hasn’t ended and our Lord is Lord of all. To the outsider nothing has changed.
The initial investigations are complete and the prognosis has been given. Mum has stage 3 tumour, this means that the cancer hasn’t travelled to other organs at this moment in time. With chemotherapy her life expectancy, according to their studies, would on average be 12 months.
So we have a figure in mind, a year, but in all honesty what does average mean?
• a standard or level which is considered to be typical or usual
• the result you get by adding two or more amounts together and dividing the total by the number of amounts.
In reality we are none the wiser; an average is just an educated guess. But at the end of the day knowing the exact day of your demise would only bring fear and dread. It would spoil the time you have left. Nevertheless a year is better than I originally anticipated.
Mum has opted to take part in a drug trial where she will be give an additional drug (or placebo) to the one they usually use for this type of cancer. Both drugs are tried & and tested; it is the use of them together that is being trialled. Initial results are positive. Mum believes that she has nothing to lose and everything to gain. I can’t argue with that but I have a proviso, that if the drugs make her feel really ill she must come off them, quality over quantity of life must be our priority.
So the first day of chemo has arrived and weare spending the whole day at the Christie hospital in Manchester. The queue for the phlebotomist is a little chaotic and time consuming but it’s important not to become irritated by the little things. Then we are taken to the Drug Trial unit where we are given a private room with a TV, and the wonderful Raymond offers to make us a drink. Later on he tells me off for buying a drink at the café. He is there to make us as many drinks as we need. This is definitely more BUPA than NHS. Don’t be mistaken though, this is the NHS at its best.
All the staff are brilliant, they take time to talk to you, answer your questions and reassure you. We are well looked after.
So mum and I spend the day together, reading, watching TV, talking, not talking and in the afternoon, dozing (both of us not just mum). At one point my mum woke up and said that her hair must be a real mess. I told her not to worry; any hair in this place was a bonus! Sorry but I always did have a dark sense of humour.
This may seem a strange thing to say (I’ve certainly said worse) but we have had a really pleasant day out, just the two of us. Hopefully everything will go well, mum will not have many side effects and there will be many more pleasant days to come.
And through all this God will sustain us:
Cast your cares on the Lord
and he will sustain you;
he will never let
the righteous be shaken.
Even to your old age and grey hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.