Time for drastic action
There last couple of days have been very difficult.
Tuesday was of course my mental “black out” day where according to my own diagnosis my head just suddenly decided it was carrying too much information and worry and just ceased to function for a while. It was a little scary at the time but I convinced myself that a few hours sleep would cause a reset. And so it was to be.
Yesterday I was back in touch with reality and it was then that my friendly little tumor decided to up the stakes a bit.
Nose cancer does tend to stand out amongst cancers as it plays out its merry little japes in the full glare of publicity. Any other type of cancer is either internal, or if external can at least be concealed with clothing. Not so nose cancer. It plies its wares in the full glare of visibility at the one spot were people tend to look first – bang in the middle of the face.
I mentioned before that the face is producing vast quantities of liquid that I have to keep mopping up with paper. I mused as to the origins of all this liquid. Well, now I’m fairly sure that what I witnessing is me in melt down. Yes, that liquid is nothing less than liquefied me. My basis for my theory is that parts of me are physically disappearing and they have to go somewhere?
Yesterday I noticed The Hole. This was a little spot that had developed towards the bridge of the nose. By yesterday it had become a gaping chasm at least a quarter inch in diameter and equally deep. I now have a cave in my face for all to see. Also other areas that had been plain tissue suddenly developed holes that I could see through. The net result of this is that I now feel physically sick at the sight of this monstrosity that was once a simple nose and am avoiding mirrors at all costs. What scared me most was the sheer speed at which these cavities appeared. This is one hell of a fucking aggressive tumor.
What really concerns me now is the number of other strategic areas that lie within easy artillery range of my little globular mess. The eyes? The tongue? The larynx? The jaw? That fucking cancer has a chance of making me blind and/or mute.
I have another of those meetings with The Team tomorrow. This is where the Prof decides what to do next.
If he even hints at delaying removal of the tumor, I’ll fucking kill him.
I want it gone NOW!
You are showing more composure than I would . Good luck .
I second Ray’s comment. Stick it to the docs Grandad. Urgent action is required methinks. Good luck.
Rooting for you.
I don’t know how you stand it, but the best of luck for tomorrow, it’s time you had some better news.
Brave man. You’ll get through this soon.
Prayers and blessings to you, hold strong.
I can’t even imagine in my wildest dreams what you are describing. I echo the same sentiment as others, give em hell! You need to be admitted to the hospital after your meeting treatment started. This is ridiculous. Good luck! Update as you can or able. We’re all wishing you the best.
Wishing you all the best, which you need. Which I hope is better than Our Saintly NHS here in Blighty.
I’ve read that there seem to be a lot of these aggressive cancers these days. Of course nothing to do with the Safe & Effective.
God Bless (which is all I can wish really, other than a load of fentynal/morphine, and that I don’t ever find myself in the same position).
Hoping this appointment finally gets the ball rolling for you. Praying for you and your good lady.
I really don’t see why your surgeon is dragging his feet (and yours as well) on this. Seems more than a bit foolish to me. But then I’m not a doctor either. At the very least he could offer the reasoning behind it.
Good vibes and waves of goodwill being sent from this side of the big pond to you and yours. All the best Grandad.
I cannot conceive the anguish you’re experiencing now, Grandad.
God Almighty, you’re strong!