Distress - and a memory

I knew it was bad. I knew it was bad ever since a couple of days ago when I'd worked out for myself that the tumour was growing in spite of the chemo (it had gone from partly blocking the stomach exit to fully blocking it in the space of a week of heavy medication).
So it doesn't really surprise me to have my worst fears confirmed.
I can go and visit her now. I can visit, because an infection won't make any difference. She's dying and has maybe a week or two left.
They're moving her to a hospice in Reading on Monday and suggest that as a possible day to visit. There was some reason why tomorrow wasn't a good day, though I can't remember why. One of my other sisters will be taking her family at the weekend and I don't want to overload Roaslie with too many visitors at once.
see http://www.waveney.org/Family/Charles70/Triplets.jpeg

Cracking up

I'm pretty near breaking point today.

Rosalie (for new readers - my youngest sister was diagnosed with stomach cancer
five weeks ago and it's usually fatal) - is so weak now that they can't even
give her the normal dose of chemo this week. If they aren't able to fit a stent
(to allow food past the tumour into the deodenum) then that's probably it.

I tried to phone one of my other sisters - she was out.

Tried to call my mum - too busy to talk (translation - too stressed to talk
about it)

Tried to call Ros at the hospital - couldn't get through.

Left a message on brother-in-law's phone asking if the hospital would let me
visit if I wore a mask or something to reduce the risk of infection - this damn
throat infection still hasn't cleared.

I want to see my sister.

I WANT TO SEE MY SISTER!