No Title Springs To Mind

  • The one before the penultimate one - aka diagnosis

    So now it was the 22nd of January 2019. I arrived at the hospital in plenty of time for my appointment, knowing I would need a good few cigarettes before going in. As it turned out, I only had one - I felt sick and couldn't face another. I made my way to the clinic.

    I could go on for hours about the brashness of the lighting, the annoyance of the receptionist's laugh, the monotonous drone of the daytime TV, the endless…

  • Still not the last one....

    So on Tuesday this week I had a surreal experience - a CT scan in a portakabin in the hospital car park. I found it hard to keep a straight face as the masked technician s--t--r--e--t--c--h--e--d across to take my temperature before letting me in to his tin box. I wish it could have been captured on video - it must have looked like something out of a scii-fi film - masks, visors, scanners, hand decontamination liquids…

  • So - the dreaded telephone appointment: AKA The Forgotten Victims Of Covid

    Set my alarm clock - I knew I would be awake for most of the night and would thus struggle to get up in time for the phone appointment without loud, jangling, mechanical assistance. Gave myself plenty of time for caffeine and nicotine intake before the doctor phoned.

    He phones, right on time. Small talk about Tamoxifen and side effects out of the way, he proceeded to tell me I had had a CT scan in March and it was stable…

  • CT scan results - DEFINITELY parental guidance required here. Swear words aplenty.

    So - I phone the hospital on Tuesday to a) ask why I no longer received copies of all letters that they send to my GP. The receptionist stated that they don't do that - you only receive a treatment plan in the post. This is clearly bollocks - I got a couple and then they inexplicably stopped. The folder they gave me when I was diagnosed this time round had something in it about being entitled to all such correspondence…

  • Not the penultimate bit

    The surgeon told me at my post op appointment that there had been two tumors, both quite small and both grade 2. She said there was no lymph node involvement. She recommended chemotherapy as a "just in case".  I reluctantly agreed.

    Four rounds of AC later, many bouts of sickness later, many anti sickness tablets later, many hairs lost later and I was finally done with the chemo.

    At another post-chemo appointment…