I found this rather poignant graffiti on a wall next to the train station in Jerez, just two days before this whole mess started, and I was moved to take a photo of it. At the time I sure never thought I’d end up using it on my blog in a personal way . . .

I had my appointment with Oncology this morning and was very grateful that Pipocas came with me. The 3 cm tumour they removed was malignant. I need to go for a thorax & abdominal CT scan next Wednesday (11th June) to see if I am ‘clean’.

Meanwhile, I have an appointment to start chemotherapy on 18th June. This would be the treatment in any case – whether the CT scan finds anything or not – but if I am not ‘clean’ then apparently the type of chemo I undergo will be different.

The best case scenario is that I’ll have eight sessions of chemo (every three weeks for six months) as a preventative measure against any reoccurrence. And I was told to stick with that scenario until the results from the CT scan come back. But I was also told that even this preventative chemo might make me so tired that I’ll only be able to work one week out of three, which of course only adds to my already precarious financial situation. Shit. I mean, I still don’t have enough rent money for June – how the hell am I going to live on 1/3 of my normal wages for six months? And that is if my students are willing to stick with a teacher who can’t commit to giving them regular classes.

And so . . . now it’s going to be another two weeks of waiting to find out if I am cancer-free or not.

That’s all I know.