Is it possible to keep a sense of humour when your husband has had his bladder, lymph glands, urethra and prostate removed, has been declared clear from cancer only to be told six months later that the cancer is probably back? I think my husband and I are going to find out pretty soon. He’s had a PET scan this week, already a source of amusement for him seeing as it involves radioactivity. He reckons Peckham Spring Water had nothing on the state of his pee afterwards. He said his stoma bag was glowing so much that evening he didn’t need to turn the light on in the bathroom . I didn’t inspect it so I can’t testify to that and since he spent two days before and after the scan making ticking noises and pretending he might explode, I think he might well be exaggerating.
I had a moment too when I thought about the boy next door who quite frequently in the good weather knocks on our door to retrieve his football. I envisaged a scenario whereby I answered the door and said, “ You can’t come in mate, Gerry’s radioactive. Come back in eight hours when he’s stopped glowing.” I presented this scenario to Gerry on the drive back from the hospital. I think Gerry was really looking forward to that happening but the ball remained on that day in next door’s garden so I never had the opportunity to see a look of total confusion on the lad’s face!
