Pam and I arrived at the clinic in good time and didn't have to wait long to be taken through to a private room. We sat in low chairs around a circular coffee table. Four of us, plus another student nurse sitting a bit further away. They checked if we minded the student being present and, of course, we were happy for hero to benefit from the situation.
I don't remember much but one or two things do stick in my mind. Firstly, the diagnosis itself wasn't great. I had had a grade 4 glioblastoma multiforme or GBM. Mr Holliman was fairly matter of fact, but in a caring way. He told us what it was and that "We've never had one of these that didn't come back". Those words have been in my ears most days since! He also said tha he was very happy with the removal operation, that he thought he'd got it all, and that my care would be transferred to the oncology team at the Freeman Hospital. Bev was helpful (she was my MacMillan nurse) and had some leaflets and information about GBMs and what to expect next. They asked if we had any questions, but I don't think we did really. Not that I remember anyway.
And that was that. Another statistic was created. Another person with malignant brain cancer through no fault of his own. Life can be cruel. But as the adverts say - "Cancer - we are coming to get you!" I was determined to remain positive and focus on beating this tumour - whatever it took.
I was due to go to the doctors at home to have my staples removed, but Bev offered to do it whilst I was there. I had been dreading it since all the staples were gunned up in scab and crustiness. I was expecting them to pull and hurt, but I hardly felt a thing. The removal tool looked a bit like a pair of scissors and it cleverly twisted the staples so that it lifted clean out! Twenty seven snips later they were all gone and it only took about 4 minutes for the lot.
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| Clever little contraption |
We came home and had lunch sitting in the sun room. George came home from college and I bluntly told him. Probably too bluntly really, but that's been my style with this illness. No messing, no gentle breaking of the news, no pretending it's all going to be ok! Just straight out with it. Bang. There, now you know. Then time for chatting and discussing and being realistic so about what my future looks like. I remember saying thinks like, "This will be what kills me, but we just don't know when". Tough stuff for a 16 year old to cope with, but he was brilliant. Yes he was sad, but he talked openly about a BMX rider called Charles Trippy who had a brain tumour a year ago, and had been operated on whilst awake. He'd made a good recovery but had gone through a lot of what I had or was about to go through. I think that really helped George cope with my situation - thank goodness for the Internet!
Later that evening I called Barry to tell him the news. He was driving a van back from a job and was somewhere on the M1 I think. I could speak for long but told him the news. He says he almost crashed and had to pull in for a while. Again, I was brutal about it, which maybe I shouldn't have been - it just seemed to be a way of coping for me. Barry told me later about how awful his drove home had been. We've been business partners for almost 20 years and news like this is clearly devastating. Barry then did his usual and bottled things up, refused to accept my news, and went into a kind of denial about it.
Apart from phone called from my sister and Dad not much else happened. Rebecca and Ricahrd were due to visit me from Suffolk tomorrow, which I was really looking forward to. They were staying in a local hotel as they didn't want to be a burden on us, which was good of them. As became a habit over the next few months, we went To bed fairly early.
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