End Of The Line Soldier Boy

So I had the scan.  No problems.  There was no queue and it went like clockwork.  The next day I had an appointment to go through the results.

My wife and I turned up at the proscribed time, cus that's the sort of people we are (well, we tend to be late, actually).  When we got there our doctor was running 3/4 of an hour late.  Great, more waiting.

When we were finally ushered in, I was asked how I  was and have been.  Then he gave us a letter which was the reply from another possible hospital that might have been able to help.  It basically said, yeah, what you're doing seems okay, bye.  So, that was helpful.  Then, when there was no more small talk to have, my consultant said it was once again bad bad news.  I had gone in expecting good news (talked myself into it), but was ready for bad news, but not quite what I got.  He said that not only had the tumour carried on growing, it had also spread.  That was what I was definitely not wanting to hear.  It got worse.  Rather than just spread to a few lymph nodes in my neck or something, no, it had to go for places that I didn't want messing up.  It has spread to my liver, kidneys and other lung.  Whoopee-do.  I am officially riddled with the crap.

Then I was told there was nothing else they could do and that I had a few months.  We asked about other centres in the UK and were told there were no other drugs to try and no clinical trials happening that were relevant or that I could get on, etc.  Basically, your stuffed mate.  The hint was made to not try and fight it any more but to enjoy the time left before bits start breaking and falling off.  I can't do that.  Now, for half of this I was sat silently in shock, whereas previously I could still keep my chin up and add in the odd wise crack.  It was my wife who interrogated them for some threads to cling to.  We asked about the option of trials in Europe or the states and just got blank expressions and told we could search the internet, which I thought was a bit rubbish.  I've seen article written in 1994 about multi drug resistance and theories and possible drugs etc, surely by 2008 something must have come of them.  

Anyway, we left, sat in the car in silence for a while, hugged and cried, in no particular order.  I felt sad, angry, bitter, helpless and a myriad of other emotions too numerous to list.  We went and got some lunch.  Talked and hugged, etc some more.  I decided I didn't want to mope around in the evening and so we got some good friends and went out to one of my favourite restaurants (mexican food, I love it).  I got a bit drunk, as did everyone else.

Now, its back to searching for something that may help.  I'm not ready to accept the end of the line, even if that's where I might be.  A bit of selective blindness/deafness can be useful.