Shock Shock

This morning I was sailing through life on a gondola feeling relaxed and content.  I was proud of all I had overcome in the last year and pleased to be able to reflect on it with positivism.  I was happy at work and enjoying working in school again.  I was looking forward to the next few months with plenty to enjoy.

By lunch time a speedboat had crashed through my gondola leaving it in pieces and me flapping about in a dangerous current  feeling myself being pulled down with the weight of my past and health acting as an anchor providing a resistance to my efforts to break above the surface.

Since physically recovering from the surgery I have felt extremely good.  I felt mentally positive and healthier than I have done for years.  Certainly back to early 2013 at least when  I can trace back my symptoms of cancer to.  As such when I sat down to talk to my specialist, who I have great faith in; I did not expect to be told that scans I had last month have revealed further cases of cancer.  I haven't felt ill but although I knew this was always a possibility yet that has done little to diminish the gut wrenching surprise.

After a two hour delay, the specialist was jittery and talked about things in a muddled up jigsaw manner.  However his first sentence was the only puzzle piece I needed to  to anticipate  what was coming as I shot a glance over to Becky that sort of said "oh shit, this is not going to be good."

He quickly informed me of the need to go to Liverpool for a 'particularly sensitive scan' and with further prodding he informs me that the options of further surgery or burning the tumours are out.  In fairness to him, he remains positive based on the fact that I have been feeling so good physically.  He advises me to go on as I have been doing so.  One shock induced, light headed spell on the bed in his room later and all I want to do is go home so it's a sharp exit via the shop to buy Thomas some treats.

As I left I was in a stunned state and feeling rather baffled.  I didn't want to go to work, didn't want to tell people and just wanted to be in the comfort of my home.  One other thought did cross my mind, "well fuck cancer, I'm still doing a bloody triathlon."