Waiting to get news from the hospital is taking a mental toll on both me, and my wife. We both are keen to get things moving, whether here, in the US or back in the UK. Spinning wheels with no progress is incredibly frustrating. I get that things take time, but it does my head in, nonetheless. From Thursday to Sunday we didn't move forward at all with a plan of action. I spent time out on a friend's boat, spent time at work, spent time at home watching the footy, spent a night out at dinner with friends (treating myself to that one glass of red wine). It would have been nice to have something to say to people when they naturally asked "so, what are you going to do?"
An old friend of mine heard the news in the week, and popped over on Sunday night (armed with a fantastic Malbec). We chatted about the whole situation from scratch, and I added another one to the "utterly gobsmacked about it all" list. There isn't much he could say, but we were both pragmatic enough to realise it Then\ the conversation drifted to the relative incompetence of our respective football teams, and we were back on familiar ground.
Monday morning. News. Not the news I wanted. A short email advising "you are declined for now" and a couple of questions. No information about why. That would have certainly helped stem the tide of bad thoughts that crashed through my mind. I had a follow-up appointment booked with the surgeon to ensure no problems from the chemo port insertion. When he asked "how are things?", my reply of "everything seemed fine until 10 mins ago" was maybe not what he expected. He dissected the possible reasons, but was ultimately none the wiser. We talked about some other options, and arranged a meet with an oncologist later in the week, or the start of next. By the time I got back to the office, we had squeezed a reason: they were questioning my fitness to travel. My GP advised by return, with the appropriate letter, that that was not an issue. So, we wait some more.
Chatting further with my wife, I decided to head back to the UK for a few days, to get something moving there. Flights booked, car booked, OK, something is happening. I am sure having done that, I will now find I have conflicting appointments on 2 continents, but I'll deal with that if and when it happens. I came home, packed, had a cry, another friend popped over to check in on me, we made tea. One bright spark in the day was finding a Get Well Soon card on the porch that a friend's daughter had made for me.
So, I fly in the morning, and we'll see in a matter of days, whether there is a course of action back home. Fingers crossed.