Or, as Terry Pratchett stated when diagnosed with Alzheimer’s “What an embuggerance”.
Right out of the blue, I was told in A&E that there was a mass on my brain after having reluctantly been dragged there by the paramedics. My reaction of “I really don’t have time for this ****, I have too much grown-up stuff to do” was not exactly what they expected.
Several weeks later, I’m back home with the tumour “debunked” and commencing radio and chemotherapy in two weeks time.
Yup, let’s take off, nuke the site from orbit, it’s the only way to make sure...sort of. Looks as though they want to go full NBC warfare scorched earth policy on this one. Glioma - Astrocytoma - Glioblastoma. I’m going to feel like crap afterwards, aren’t I? Do you want to talk numbers, the oncologist asked. 15 months average. Are you ******* kidding me? This is just not on. Anyway, I’ve decided I’m going to live a long time or die trying, after all, I have an 89 yr-old mother with an amputated left leg to care for and a brother going through a mental and emotional meltdown.
I realise this is all deadly serious and I’m being extremely flippant about it, but all this has happened over such a short period of time that the gravity of the situation may not have registered yet.
