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“The treatment isn’t working. They want to start chemo.” Not the words anyone wants to hear.
It is the middle of the night, in mid-February, when my phone rings. I am in Hawaii, staying with a friend, tagging some beach days onto the end of a work trip. Before my husband Robert has spoken, I mumble to him that he must have got the time wrong and hang up. Then I remember he has been to see his oncologist. I call him back.
We have been living with cancer for nearly 10 years. My…
