Well, we made it to the hospital by dosing John up with pain killers and anti-nausea pills. He was retching again this morning because he was dreading the appointment and feeling absolutely wiped out by the time we got there. His daughter met us there and we eventually went in only half an hour late.
The oncologist saw him personally although the appointment letter had stated that he was only seeing the registrar. To cut a long story short, he didn't really tell us anything we didn't already know, i.e that the chemo hasn't made any difference to the tumours. The original tumour is still there and there is a 2cm spot on the liver that wasn't there before.
He said that they had been very concerned about him when he was admitted to hospital a couple of weeks ago with diarrhoea and that he had made a better recovery than they'd anticipated because of his debilitated state. I'm not sure why they gave us all that 'bumph' about participating in a chemo trial because the oncologist doesn't consider that it would be of any benefit. Nor does he think that John is up to any more chemo.
So all we have to do now is try to build his strength up, control his pain and sickness and take great care of him, which is what we're already trying to do. He is out of the care of the oncologist now and falls under palliative care, although the oncologist did say he would be available if we needed to talk to him.
I think I already knew what he was going to say but hearing the words spoken out loud makes it all so real. We're all stunned at the moment. I feel quite numb, John's daughter has gone home (to have a good cry I think) and John is lying down recovering from it all.
I know the chemo has bought us a little time - the oncologist did say that John probably wouldn't be here if it weren't for the treatment - but at what cost? My lovely, lovely man is a shadow of his former self. He's gone down to 9st in weight, has no hair, no energy and little interest in life. The chemo has affected his sight so that he can't read and can hardly bear to watch the television and his fingers and toes are numb. He's also full of pain most of the time which the oncologist says is not down to the cancer.
So I suppose we're just playing the waiting game like many others on this site. Well, if that's the case, I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I never guessed when John retired that life would turn out like this and I feel very, very bitter about what life's dished out to him. What has he done to deserve all this? First a heart bypass, then sciatica, then a strangulated hernia and now (the worst of all the blows), this terrible, terrible disease! I could write a few choice swear words right now but I'll keep them to myself.
All I will say is "Life's a BITCH!"
A very bitter Madge x x x x x
