On the train home I met a long-time fellow commuter, who retired last year. We exchange pleasantries. I'm about to tell him why I'm on the train, but he interrupts me with something else. Good.
I wasn't needed to pick up the younger children - H brought them home: they were pleased to see me so early. I made the dinner, which neither of us had much appetite for.
H told me about the scan. It shows a lytic tumour on the right side involving the eighth thoracic vertebra (T8) and the rib, and another in the muscle lower down on the left side, close to T12 - this is the one causing the muscle swelling. It's impossible to tell what sort of cancer it is, or where the primary is. The best case would be lymphoma, but that's very unlikely. What H fears is melanoma - she's very fair-skinned - which would be quickly fatal with a strong possibility of brain metastases.
There's a biopsy booked for tomorrow, Thursday. The tissue will go the the histopathologists, whose job it is to work out what the cancer is.
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