Rock Bottom

Today was bad. In fact I think I hit rock bottom. Not a good place to be. Let me explain a little...
During the night / early morning, (I guess the opposite of twilight, but can't think of a name for it, if it has one. (I could call it norning or might, but that is just silly)) I woke up and it felt like my throat was clagged up with phlegm. I tried to talk but couldn't which freaked me a bit. I coughed and growled and tried to clear it but to no avail. My voice came back but very quiet and husky. My actual cough was not normal either, it sounded like a hobo giving his last splutter just before falling into the dumpster for the last time. It was weird, unpleasant and bloody frightening. I tried water and gargling but nothing would shift it and my normal voice wouldn't return, just this quiet husky alter ego. Next morning my ears were still not right and the right one was deciding whether to ring or sound like the sea. My temperature was high and I felt washed out and tired. It just seemed like it was lots of little things piling up, trying to kill me off in a kind of death of a thousand cuts or something equally dramatic. I was pretty low. My wife rang the Eden centre and they said for me to come in and they'll see what they can do for my throat. That made me a bit happier but my mood was down after so many days high temperature, feeling tired, worried about what's going to happen and the steroids I had recently had had made my legs as bad as they were yonks ago etc.
Sam had to go to London for work so she rang her mum, to see if she could drop me off and she could (my mother-in-law is great). They said they wanted me to come in quickly, so we rushed in and then I was just sat there waiting for about an hour or so. A bloke next to me kept trying to talk to me, but he kept using my ringing/sea ear so I couldn't hear him, just occasionally catch his lips moving. I tried to explain the situation but I don't think he could understand me with my quiet huskiness. That was just awkward. Anyway, finally the doc sees me. I'm expecting to get straight to business and get my throat checked and maybe my sinuses or something for my ears, but no, she just starts asking me a raft of depressing questions about my worse fears about dying. She asked me what I thought the throat problem was and I said it was either mucus/fluid or the lymphoma had done something. She said most likely the lymphoma had invaded part of the larynx or one of the nerves and that was why. I asked if during radiotherapy, if the tumour regressed, could I get my voice back? Answer: The radiotherapy may do nothing (nothing like building up a bit of positiveness). ME: But if it does? Answer: Maybe ME: Could I lose the ability to speak altogether? (scared now) Answer: Maybe ME: Would that be permanent, even if this thing was cured etc Answer: Maybe. Then she went on to highly emphasise how unlikely any type of cure was and there may not be any response from the radiotherapy (what has she got against hope? and radiotherapy for that matter). Anyway my pile of depression was being added to by the second. I so wished I hadn't come. At some point I broke down in tears. It may have been during some of the questioning or at some other point, just because I felt so low. I don't know if this was registered as a point on the "help come to terms with things" ledger (good work everyone, the patient cried, they can go to their graves easier now!).
Anyway, I finally escaped. I went back to ma-in-laws had some food and then had to rush home, as Sandra (who comments here regularly) was coming to visit. Got home as she was arriving, so good timing. Spent a nice afternoon and felt a lot more perked up by the end, which was cool.
What really perked me right back up was when my wife got home. She was all smiles and wonderful and just lifted my spirits. Thanks wifey!