Tomorrow's the big day. Last week I wanted to run away rather than find out what's going on with John. Now I just want to get on with it. Need to get on with it, as I feel that he is worse. He seems so exhausted and looks so peaky. On Friday night he found another lump on his neck. This time just the size of a pea and it felt to me like it was moving, and he can't actually find it now so we are hoping it was a bonafide lymph node rather than the sinister mass at the front.
He had his biopsy on Thursday and the incision was made at the side of his lump as apparently that's where the mass is showing most on the scans. I hate the word mass. John says he hates the word tumour more.
We've had a weird weekend. The kids have been away on scouting camp outs so there's just been the two of us. On Friday we went for a spa evening which was lovely, came out feeling a little bit lighter. Saturday was rubbish. Yesterday was better. Because he looked better. He did gardening, he cooked tea, everything was so normal still. I like normal. I'm so scared of what could be to come. For him and everything he will have to face and for us and our darling little boys, who aged 7 and 9 need and love their daddy.
