Waiting, waiting, waiting. At times, it’s unbearable. I’ve known I had cancer since the end of October. I’ve jumped through all the hoops, done all the tests, and waited. Tomorrow is January and I’m still waiting. This has to be the worst possible time to be diagnosed and waiting for treatment. The pandemic plus Christmas and New Year closures is slowing everything down. I phoned a specialist nurse two days ago and was reassured that the cancer service is not impacted by the pandemic. But today, another specialist nurse told me the opposite. She said they are not scheduling surgeries at the moment and that everything has had to be ‘rearranged’ due to Covid. It is devastating to hear that. I’m in a surreal no man’s land. My pain is bearable but it prevents me doing a lot of things I love, such as taking a long walk or tidying the garden. We’re in a more or less lockdown and so there are no distractions available like visiting friends and family. Just me and my hot water bottle. Today has been a very difficult day. And I do think of all the people out there in the same or worse situation. Everyone talks about getting your date. Have you got your date yet, they ask. When will you get your date? It’ll be easier when you get your date. When you’re date is fixed, then ... Even the first specialist nurse said by way of reassurance as I sobbed on the phone, ‘It’ll be easier once you have your date.” I’m sure it will. This is hard! The consultant originally said early January and I had hopes for that, but now I have no clue. Just waiting and trying to survive each day.
