A widower groping his way

I am waiting for the radioactive oncologist at the hospital to hear his plan for treatment of my wife's tumor. The worst news would be that she will die soon and nothing can be done to stop it from happening. I can accept the news but I will do everything to make her live as long as she will be allowed to.

It's been a while since my wife had returned home from the hospital. For now, things are almost normal. She cooks and takes care of our kids' study also meet her friends nearby. The MRI result in December showed that her tumor neither got bigger nor shrank. I have a vague hope that it has something to do with flaxseed oil she has been eating since late November and also vegetable she eats everyday. Of course, I don't know for sure. The median survival expectancy of 11 months looms gloomily over my head and I look at her with a feeling of uneasy fear about what may happen in the coming months. I hope for miracle but I am also afraid of the future.