After some bad weather yesterday dawned sunny and not too windy. It was a little cold and since the transplant and whenever I have chemo, I feel the cold. Fortunately, those close to me know this and are prepared to swelter a little.
We drove down to Worthing and it was relatively traffic-free. The countryside showed all its glowing colours in the sun and our journey was quite quick. We went to a restaurant/hotel called the Sussex Pad with my aunt and cousin, after which we went to their house and chatted. The hours just flew by and it was just so relaxing.
Today has been altogether different. It has been wet and windy most of the day. We had a letter from Dr. P which went directly to my GP but is copied to me. It is quite discouraging seeing my prognosis in black and white and Raymond was quite disconcerted. Even though we know what has been said by the medical staff to us, somehow when it is in black and white it seems so definite.
However, at the moment nobody really knows what will happen in the long run. We are pretty sure that the radiotherapy will work but we have no idea when the lymphoma will grow back or at what rate. We don’t even know where it will grow back.
There is a balance to be achieved between putting one’s head in the sand and refusing to look at the probable outcome, and the other extreme of passive acceptance. Sometimes when I am asked what I would like for Christmas I can’t see the point of asking for anything since I don’t know how long I shall be here, but that is completely to ignore the love and goodwill of those around me who still want me to have pleasure and be comfortable whatever happens. So I shall not be the spectre at the feast and will help to plan as always.
Today is Armistice Day which is never cheery. It is a time for reflection and, unfortunately, lots of chichés. It is so sad that our politicians are still trying to solve our problems by going to war. Knowing how sweet life is and how much I want to keep living, I can’t help sympathising with those who have died as a result of war and feeling sorry for their loved ones.