Sitting in the hospital car park

It’s that time again. I am sat waiting for the MRI, CT and blood tests to be over. These happen every six weeks or so, sometimes more if the consultant is concerned. The results come next week.

This time is a little different. For a few years my wife wore the same clothes to hospital. They were washed as soon as we got home and then used for nothing else. Last weekend we had a sacrificial fire pit, and burnt them. Hopefully this will remove the bad vibes and a new start. We shall see.

She has been doing ok recently. Not good, not too bad. Just ok. Doing anything throughout the day does mean she will be asleep by 8pm. As I said before the fatigue can be bad.

Everyone who has been through this process will know the endless cycle of appointments. It can be relentless. It does feel a bit like we just keep kicking the can down the road, as the scans are very often not conclusive. In many ways the process is akin to pulling off a plaster slowly. Non stop pain over a longer time. 

Would the short sharp shock have been easier? That is an impossible question to answer. I do wonder if the disease is holding us back. We are defined as the family with a terminally ill mother. 

This time I can’t guess the outcome. There is more bloating but I don’t know what that means anymore. She presents with levels of disease that in a new patient would ring alarm bells, but with her is stable. She doesn’t want more treatment this year however. Which does mean more waiting then.

I’d like to know for sure, and I’d like to be out of this process. However the exit is only at a greater cost. What would that do to the rest of us? We can’t tell. So we will keep on going. That is all we can do.

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