It was a few days after my birthday when I got a call from my best friend Dave to wish me happy birthday. Usually I get a text telling me I am an old fart and I haven’t visited… but he called this time. I always love it when Dave calls as we just can talk crap for hours!
This was a bit different… the hey how are you was him telling me that he had headache for about 6 weeks so they did an MRI and now he is sitting in A&E after they called him and told him to go straight there. He did not know what was going off at this point but he had worked out that they were not happy about his brain scan and it had indicated something and they had also found something less urgent but potentially something in lung.
Obviously without the data we were both in the dark and just discussing potential, he was saying that this was the start of the clock ticking, and that he needs to start and put more plans in place. I was telling him he should not jump to conclusions without data… and we left it where he was going to keep me in the loop. I spent the night wondering what this means… and wondering what I could do. I spoke about it with my shrink and said that we are just jumping to conclusions without further information.
A few days later on Monday night while I was in Dublin heading off on a work trip, Dave called me back to tell me that he has a brain tumour that they are working out what they can do with it and also lung cancer but isolated and the growth is not invasive – but they are concerned about the brain. Again we talked about a few things and I said to Dave lets not jump to conclusions and wait until we know what they want to do.. as it could be something they remove, something they have treatment for etc etc… we again just don’t know. He started talking about moving back to Australia to be with family and asking that if anything happens I look after Alyssa and Jake… I called him a stupid twat while desperately holding back the tears. I told him that no matter what I would always look after Alyssa and Jake and to stop bloody worrying.
I headed off on the Tuesday morning to Brussels for my work meeting, having drinks with the customer till late…. then at 10pm while walking back to the hotel Dave called… They had decided they are going to remove the tumour and scheduled it for Thursday morning… he asked where I was and whether I could get to London. I could hear he was scared… I was scared… He was talking about who he needs to contact, all the planning for where all the policies are for things… We talked for about an hour and half… mostly me trying to tell him not to worry and that they are doing it quickly because there is a likelihood they can get this now before it does more damage.
I replanned my entire week, I was in that much of a rush I completely cocked up the flights and booked the wrong week – having to pay again to book the right week… flying into London Thursday morning before he goes in…
Wednesday night I spent another hour on the phone with him, where he was telling me what I need to do if things go wrong… I remember coming off the call wondering whether this might be the last time I talk to my best friend then crying and having to call my mum just to unload my thoughts and feelings.
Thursday I headed back to the UK… I didn’t get chance to speak to him before he went into surgery as he was scheduled for 7am… Kings College Hospital London… The plan was Alyssa was going to let me know how it went as she was with him throughout. I saw the text come in…. For a few seconds I didn’t want to open it and held my breath as I did…. he was ok… he had come through the surgery and was in recovery!
I don’t mind admitting at this point I sat in the airport with my coffee and cried… not sure why I cried but I cried…. I think mainly out of relief.
I am still in London here to help out… he will be in hospital for about a week and they need to make sure nothing has broken… which can happen when they take bits of your brain out!
Onwards and upwards!
UPDATE: Just been to visit Dave (currently sitting in Costa at Kings College Hospital) – he seems OK…. in fact he just made me go buy him food as the NHS cuisine is “rubbery” – his description of the toast!