It’s been such a huge week.
Mr B was given day release for his son, Toby’s, first birthday.
Birthday boy is pictured below.
‘Get me away from this crazy dame!’
The next day B was reassessed at the horsepital and is now back at home. He is walking with a cane and his facial muscles are starting to work again so he even smiles a bit. He is stuborn about his inability to cope with steps. He turns 37 on Friday and his lovely Madame M turns 36. They have the gall to be going out to dinner without me but Matt and I shall cook them a birthday feast here over the weekend instead.
More distant pals are Bon Anniversaire-ing on the same day and also yesterday. I wish I was cooking them a birthday feast over the weekend too.
The Lymphoma Warrior was always just living with the threat until now. Thank heavens a friendly oncologist took a personal interest. His spleen-the-size-of-a-planet finally caught someones attention and a liver biopsy on Monday has shown that it is indeed a rare and aggressive form of lymphoma for which he will now receive rare and agressive treatment.
While our collective response hasn’t exactly been ‘Hooray. It IS cancer!’ all are relieved that he finally has a firm diagnosis and he can be treated for something. He has suffered from SLE all his life (another immune disorder, but very different to the one B was knocked down by) and until now and with no definite answers better than ‘it might be lymphoma’ no one has been prepared to do anything other than fill him with painkillers that have done very little for the immense pain he has been in.
The poor mite has really been suffering. The day before the biopsy he came to visit as he just couldn’t stand being in bed anymore. We giggled and ate pizza and salad. We could see his enlarged spleen sticking out from under his ribs even through the usual, multiple layers of black metal merchandising (t-shirt, long sleeved t-shirt, another t-shirt…)
… and I built a fishpond.