Well, things are still moving as scheduled. I went to see the oncologists on Monday and was told - much to my amazement - that considering what I was going through, I actually looked pretty good..! Could have fooled me. They took a blood sample for analysis and otherwise wouldn't commit themselves to anything. I should go for the PET on Wednesday (today, and of course I went), and then phone them on Thursday afternoon. They would give me the results and - if they can nail him down for five minutes - extort an appointment with the surgeon for either Monday or Tuesday next week.
Irene drove me to the hospital this morning for the PET. I've been in that tunnel so many times that I've lost count, but I was a bit anxious this morning. If I lie flat on my back for more than about 2 minutes, I generally go into coughing spasms. As it happened, it was okay and the process took its normal course. I was back home at lunchtime. Irene, who was my late wife's best friend for thirty-odd years, has been extremely kind and supportive. I was all the more grateful for her "taxi service" this morning because the weather is bitterly cold, grey and damp. Waiting around for trams wouldn't have been fun.
The scary bit comes tomorrow, when I phone to get the results. My understanding is that if everything is clear, there should be nothing standing in the way of the second operation. They wouldn't comment on what would happen if the PET wasn't completely clear. So once again, for the umpteenth time, I have to persuade myself that everything is perfect and there's nothing to worry about.
The nurse has just been here and changed the dressings, so now I've got the rest of the day to myself. Loads of clearing up still to do, but I'll just take it bit by bit.
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