It’s 2 years today since B’s seizure. 2 years since I ran into the shop downstairs for help, clad only in my bathrobe, to the (understandable) horror of the staff. 2 years since the incomprehensible news that there was ‘something’ visible on B’s brain scan. ‘We’ll fix this’ said the kindly A&E nurse. Little did we know that it couldn’t be fixed.
Like last year I have mixed feelings about the ‘anniversary’. On one hand, I’m very glad that after all he’s been through, B is ‘healthy’ and his tumour is inactive. On the other hand, I can’t help but remember the words of The German, who predicted that the cancer would return in around 3 years.
Then, upon seeing our stricken faces, he clarified ‘I don’t mean you’ll be DEAD in three years’. Ah, German tact and sensitivity – there’s nothing like it.
How did two years go by so fast? Of course there is every possibility that B will be a ‘statistical outlier’ (I’m thinking of having that phrase put on a t-shirt for his Oncologist visits) and live far beyond the initial prognosis. It is only a guess, not a ‘death sentence’.
B turns 41 in a few days time so it’s definitely a week for celebration. He’s not in hospital or recovering from treatment so it’s a massive improvement on his past two birthdays. I just need to find a way to relax and enjoy it. Strangely, B is a lot better at this than I am.