Doing the ostrich

Sorry, I've run out of good humour this evening.
I did laugh at the entries - and raised my eyebrows - and went 'eh?' in an amused way but tonight I'm full of the panics so I can't quite laugh.
Tonight I have 2 more days left on this cycle of the Xeloda and I'm realising how many questions I haven't asked. And I'm still too scared of the answers to ask them.
I haven't asked if this drug is going to help the cancer in the lungs and the lymph system. There seemed to be much more talk about treating the cancer in the bones and not much reference to the rest so I'm left wondering if that's because there's not much they can do about that.
I'm scared that I'm being lied to - by omission, rather than directly. Or, not lied to; but protected from the full truth of matters.
It may very well be true that this drug can control cancer in the bones for quite a while; but if it goes wild elsewhere in me in the meantime then that may not mean very much.
My oncologist referred to being able to help me get early retirement on ill-health grounds (which at the age of 30 is very scary) but is that an indirect way of hinting that I don't have a lot of time?
The problem to my mind is that if the cancer is in my lymph system then it could be setting up shop anywhere. And I keep hearing the word 'aggressive' in my head; which was how someone referred to my cancer this week - not my doctor, someone else.
I am so scared.
And I'm just convinced that next week they're going to tell me there's no point in continuing this treatment because it's in too much of my body. Which is completely based on fantasy in my head because they've done no new tests; there's no new data. Just panic. Just fear. Just me running out of time.
I'm really angry about being so optimistic last time. I tried to be really positive. I told myself that I could beat the cancer; that I would win. And I believed that was an option. Now I feel like that was total naivety - based on the impressions I had from what people were saying to me. No-one ever said that there was a bigger likelihood of it coming back than of it not coming back and that's what I feel like they all thought. No-one has said it but I feel like a chump for trying to even be optimistic. Because now it has come back; I'm crushed. I'm absolutely shattered by this. And not only do I not want to die but I feel *stupid* for ever wittering on at people about 'if it hasn't come back in five years'. For ever giving other people the impression that I would beat it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
And I'm still focusing on the little things. I'm weeping over the fact that I'll never have children when I should be weeping over the fact I'll probably die before my parents.
Well, I'm weeping over that too.
And don't tell me to be/think positive tonight - maybe tomorrow - but not tonight. I feel like I can't be positive because I tried that and cancer still came back - and I can not keep taking the blows of hopes dashed.