July 18th

The procedure is a bit nerve-wracking. The Radiologist tells me that he had wanted to wait a little longer before inserting the stent. If he can’t do it he will replace the drain. I can’t cope with the thought of having the drain a minute longer. Luckily he does successfully insert the stent. I am given a heavy sedative and remember nothing about it. When I awake I feel nothing more than a slight ache. That’s a bonus. Back on the ward Moaning Min is in full throttle. The nurses have clearly had a basin full. They exchange knowing glances and continue with their tasks. I have to stay still until 9pm. I am so relieved that the drain is gone. According to the Radiologist my billiary tract is ‘ shot to pieces’…nice.
It is not until Tuesday that the Team have their multi disciplinary meeting. Jo the co-ordinator comes and speaks to me first. “They have studied your scans at the meeting. They have no doubt that the cancer has spread to your pelvis. I’m so sorry” After I stop crying I ask her what this effectively means in terms of lifespan and symptoms; for that I have to wait to see the surgeon. He couldn’t be nicer. He is honest and frank. He agrees that Chemo is not a viable option and he wouldn’t have it if he were in my position. We agree on no further interventions, bar palliative care via the GP. That suits me.
I wake this morning crying at the thought of leaving my children behind. It is gut wrenching. Then I pull myself together and decide to go down for a swim. It is great to feel that salt water on my skin and to glide through a glassy clear sea. Now the drain is removed the dressing is waterproof and remains dry. It certainly won’t be the last time I do that. Whilst I swim, Chris makes me a hot drink in the beach hut. I am able to change into dry clothes immediately near the warmth of the camping stove. Wonderful. I feel certain if I can continue to enjoy life like this I will last longer than predicted.