Where to begin?

It's hard to know where to start, I met Sharon just over 7 months ago, and knew instantly that I wanted to get to know her more. I had seen her around on a few occasions, but never had the guts to walk up and introduce myself.

Then, one afternoon, I was in my local pub and had one of the local idiots talking at me, when I saw her sitting with a mutual friend and saw the chance I had been waiting for. She has told me since she thought I was a bit of a nutter, the way I came bounding over and made my presence felt, but, we hit it off, despite her initial doubts.

Since then, everything seem to "fall into place". She introduced me to her teenaged sons, both of whom I seemed to hit it off with, we just seemed to click, and be able to just "be ourselves" when around each other, and despite a few hiccups along the way, we began to plan a future together, planning getting a house together, and having a better life.

Then, in the beginning of July, everything changed. Ever since we met, Sharon had regularly complained of stomach aches, and I had repeatedly asked her to go to the doctor and get herselft checked out, but she never did, until one night after making love, we found blood on the bed sheets.

The 2 days later, she made an appointment at the doctors, who, when she examined Sharon discovered an anomaly, and refered Sharon to a gynaecology specialist. It was frightening how fast everything moved from that point. Within a couple of days, a letter arrived with an appointment to see the consultant. Obviously, she was worried, and I went along to the appointment with her. Once she had seen the specialist, she came out to the waiting room and asked me to follow her upstairs in the hospital, where she had a biopsy carried out.

Then, after a half-hour or so wait, she was called into the consultants office, and, I was asked to accompany her. In that room, everything changed.

They say, "1 in 3 people will, at some time in their lives, be touched by cancer". Well, let me tell you something. Cancer does'nt touch you, it totally devastates everything. Hearing the consultant say "I'm sorry, I have found a tumour" was like being tied to a chair, and being made to watch her being beaten with a baseball bat, and be totally unable to do anything.

Sharon's prognosis is hopeful, compared to some. She has a 60% chance of survival, but it does'nt stop the fear, guilt, anger, rage, worry, or despair.

This blog is'nt about feeling sorry for Sharon. Or myself. It's just a way to vent my feelings, and, I'd like to think it might help someone else out there going through a similar experience.