. . . and the worst of times

About 12 yesterday I got a call from a friend saying she wanted me to go round to see her. I said fine but I had to leave to go to book group at 1pm.
I ended up staying all afternoon until after 4pm.
I've known this friend since first coming up to the mountains as she was in the same new Mum's group as me, although she and I didn't see each other a lot, it was nice to bump in to each other every so often.
She rang while I was down in Canberra. She was in hospital having had a bowel cancer removed and wanted to speak to someone who had experienced chemo, etc so Ishbel and I went down during the holidays to say hello. She was then doing well, the surgeon had not had to remove as much bowel as he'd thought and she was expecting to have the chemo and then make a good recovery.
I saw her again on Thursday morning while doing an errand at work and wished her luck as she was due at the Cancer Care Centre for the first time that afternoon.
What she told me yesterday is that, at that appointment, rather than discuss the chemo, she was told that the biopsies had shown that, although the surgeon removed the main tumour OK, there are lots of little microscopic cancers all over the peritoneum (abdominal covering) and that the chemo will be life-prolonging rather than curative. She was told she probably has another two years to live.
She is a few years older than me. She has four children who range in age from the oldest daughter who is the same age as Jamie and Robbie down to a 9/10 year old. She has a drop-kick of an ex-husband who is currently a bit of an unknown quantity in the support department. She is from New Zealand and that's where her family lives. One sister is here just now but goes home on Friday. The other sister comes then for a few weeks and then her brother, but in the long term, support will have to come with friends.