Husband’s notes still haven’t made it back to hospital 1. We rang hospital 2, who had assured us they would be back at hospital 1 in time for last week’s appointment. We were impressed 🙂 . We shouldn’t have been… Hospital 2 told us they don’t know where his notes are… Fortunately we are keeping detailed notes of each meeting with the docs (I have to be useful for something) and they do blood tests before each appointment anyway.
Yesterday I felt so wretched but about stupid work things – computers… It’s a blessing to be able to stress about something non cancer related but it’s not great. I feel pretty awful today too, restless, like a wound spring.
I want to ask the doctor how long Husband has to live. I know the doctor doesn’t know. None of us do. He may have some broad idea based on statistics but everyone is different is a genuinely reasonable response to questions about cancer, particularly this one.
I want to ask the doctor a question he can’t answer, that no-one can, even though if he could answer it I probably wouldn’t be able to live with it.
So here I sit wanting to ask a question I can’t ask, that he can’t answer, knowing that that’s best yet still wanting to know, as if it would enable me to plan so well that it would hurt us less. It’s a ludicrous concept – plan your way to a peaceful death (there is something in that for people who have faith) but there’s nothing that can lessen let alone take away the pain. No amount of planning will enable me to dull that pain.