Wednesday 29 April 2009

Bulletdodger Part II

Apparently he's ok.

We have both been so worried, he just seems to look really yellow again. Even Max noticed, said, "Dad, your eyes are yellow." And he was yellow last year, before we found out. So we have both been freaked out and fucked up, expecting the worst.

The doctor reckons he is fine ... felt him all over for any signs of tumours, and gave him a blood test.

The blood test should show elevated levels of something, if it looks bad he will get a phonecall. If not, he just goes back in August for a check-up.

It's still worrying - what if there are tumours growing, somewhere? And we don't find out til it's too late? Why is he yellow?

Thanks so much for the good wishes ..... you all rock. Again.

Thursday 23 April 2009

Legacy

Two weeks, I have been trying to remember my recently-changed password to this blog. Finally I remembered it tonight: ANGERISSUES.

HA!!

So Dave has postphoned his oncologist appt TWICE now .... it is next Wednesday and so locked in. I'm going with him. Dave thinks he might have cancer in his shoulder - for once, I am the one in denial and he is all scared. I'm pretty annoyed. We have already BEEN HERE. We don't need to DO IT AGAIN. There's just no way he can get cancer back again, no way no how.

Back in December, when we got the "all clear" .. there was this small black thing on the scan, in one of Daves shoulders. I remember asking what it was, Dave laughing, and the doctor blowing me off, saying it was "most probably nothing."

He has a very sore shoulder .... he has been extremely active, hopefully he's just pulled it or something. Right? Right? RIGHT???

That's all I have to report, really. That is why I've been hiding and not commenting ... I feel a tad frozen. Also, the recent deaths of babies in blogland sent me for a six. Totally anxiety ridden.

I just wanted to let you know.

I will be back next week after Daves appointment ... if it is bad, I am not telling ANYBODY .... except here.

But it won't be bad, surely. My brain won't let me think there's a chance it's bad ... instead, my brain tells me to shop/eat/spend/exercise. Anything to take me away from myself. I HATE myself.

Goodbye.