Travel up to London Victoria ready for our afternoon appointment at
the Royal Marsden. Just up the road from the hospital, I decide a glass
of wine would be in order. And we toasted to kickin' cancer's butt with a
Kickin' cancer's butt
thing we are fortified as there is, yet again, more bad news. The
cancer has also spread to my liver and it's pretty serious. We ask and
get answered, all our questions, nothing's too much trouble, we're given
leaflets on rare sarcomas, keyworker contact numbers .... Chemo is
discussed and we decide this is the next step forward. I'm asked if I
would like to have chemo locally or come up to RM every three weeks. By
the time we leave, our minds are made up. Yes, it's a lot of travelling,
especially when I start feeling really ill but there is no comparison
to the care we're receiving from RM. Anyone who's walked through their
doors can't fail to be impressed by the calm, positive attitude of
everyone working there.
We're going to get to know this place SO well!
are the last patients at the RM when we finally leave to catch the Tube
back to our hotel and I can't speak for Kev, but I feel as if it's all
happening to someone else. We now know the true extent of what's
happening to me and what's been missed over the last two years and we
are devastated. And angry.