A year ago today at 6.40am I dropped DH (he was then DP) at Addenbrookes and kissed him goodbye not knowing when I would see him again. By 7.30 he had messaged me to say he was on his way to theatre where surgeons were going to perform a massive surgery to remove the head of his pancreas, his duodenum, his gall bladder and his bile duct. We knew the risks were high but we knew not having the surgery would be fatal as he had cancer, at the time they thought it was pancreatic cancer but it was actually bile duct cancer. I didn't know how or when I would hear from him again and I didn't know how I would know if he was OK or not as no-one had told us who would be communicating any news to me.
Today is one year on. He isn't supposed to still be here. They discovered once they had performed the surgery that he had a metastasis in his liver because of that we were told he would be lucky to survive six months even with chemo (if they had seen it on the way in rather than the way out they would've stopped the surgery) but here he is. I would like to say his care has been amazing but it hasn't, we are still having to fight every step of the way.
But, at the moment, he is well and he is doing well, we have no idea how long that will last so we are living for the here and now.