THE FINAL CHAPTER STARING PATIENT AND WIFE AND FEATURING THE WEATHER
3 minute read time.
FormerMember
Early morning on the day before treatment, Patient and wife having packed warmest clothes and thermals, surf the internet for details of flight delays, or cancellations on the Birmingham to Frankfurt route. None are posted, both airports are said to be operational, even though it is snowing in Frankfurt. Two hours later snow is still falling in Frankfurt, but now, to meet the check-in time, they need to leave for Birmingham. The house secured, luggage loaded into the car, our intrepid travellers swaddled in layers of warm clothing, slither along icy roads. Fate is on their side. Two miles on they are able to join the almost snow free motorway.
Fast forward to an airport check-in desk. Passports are presented, booking details checked, then……the airlines computer goes down…..twenty minutes later, service is restored and boarding passes are issued. On to security. Divested of several layers of outer garments, scanning commences. Wife’s hand luggage passes screening, and she collects her bundle of clothing and waits for the patient. He is not so lucky. His liquid medication is contained in large, unopened plastic containers and so must be examined. The repeat prescription is presented, and a supervisor summoned to inspect the contents of the various containers. What are these medicines for he asks. Wife wants to shout cancer, but knowing patient will be embarrassed, she bites her tongue while he says Mesothelioma. The supervisor has no idea what he is talking about, decides the patient is an unlikely threat and waves him through to the departure lounge. So far so good. After a nervous two hours, boarding starts at appointed time, and soon our travellers are belted in ready for take off. The pilot welcomes them on board, and announces that it is snowing in Frankfurt. He hopes conditions will allow landing there, but it may be necessary to divert to another airport. Patient and wife try desperately to recall from long ago geography lessons where that might be, and how long it might take to travel on to Frankfurt. Memories have dimmed with age, and guesses range across most of northern Europe. Wife is fortified with an expensive glass of cheap wine. The flight is otherwise uneventful. As the plane descends into Frankfurt, the extent of the snowfall is apparent, but our brave pilot makes a successful landing. The temperature is well below freezing, as the passengers squelch and slide from the plane into a bus (this is low cost flying), for the ride to the terminal building. Against the odds and wife’s better judgement, they have arrived.
Fast forward to the following day. After an anxious wait, patient and wife are ushered into the presence of the professor who has already done more to retard the growth of the tumour than the combined resources of UK medicine could achieve. Today he is going to remove as much as possible by laser. The tumour will not completely disappear, and at some time in the future, will start to grow again, with the inevitable result. The patient signs a consent form, and is taken into the charge of a nurse who reassures wife he will be well looked after and promises to call her as soon as the procedure is done. An hour later the nurse come tells wife all went well and ushers her into the ward where the patient will rest for four hours before returning to the hotel. Wife sheds tears of relief, while the sedated patient snores gently. When the patient wakes, nurses offer him and wife food and drinks. Before discharge, the patient is whisked off for a chest X-ray to check there is no internal bleeding. All is well, they can return to the hotel for the night. An appointment is made for a final scan and consultation the following morning.
After the events of the last two days, wife does not sleep well for most of the night, listening out for any signs of breathing problems as the patient slumbers on.
At the next morning’s consultation, the professor tells patient and wife that the procedure was a success, and overall, a seventy percent reduction to the tumour has been achieved. Wife holds back tears, remembering the original prognosis of nine to twelve months survival, already well exceeded. The treatment has severely depleted lifetime savings, but the patient is thriving and she prays he continues to do so for a long time yet.
In a Hollywood production, romantic music would swell to a crescendo as miraculously cured patient and wife fly off into the sunset. The reality is a return to a snowy and fogbound Birmingham airport and an uncertain future.
Thank you all so much for your comments and support. G's philosophy had always been to throw everything he can at this vile disease. He said he would only have one chance for successful treatment, and never wanted to be in the position of wondering "What if?" Like Buzzie and her hero, we were able to fund treatment, but so many other Mesothelioma patients cannot. Last time I criticised the NHS, I was metaphorically shot down in flames. But, here goes anyway. It is nothing short of a scandal that life pro-longing treatments and surgeries are readily available in other countries across the world, but are not being even considered for Mesothelioma sufferers in the UK. We realise now that G was not even considered for what limited is available here surgery because of his age (66) when he was diagnosed, despite the surgeon describing him in a letter to his GP as “otherwise fit”. I suspect that our PCT pays for an inferior service for cancer patients generally, spending only half per patient of what the neighbouring PCT does. Indeed, when I did manage to speak to the so-called Director of Cancer Strategy for our PCT, she didn’t know what Mesothelioma is, or even what the general strategy for lung cancer patients is, fobbing me off with the statement that treatment is commissioned by the commissioning committee who I am still trying to contact. Excluding flights and accommodation, the total cost of G’s treatment I Germany is broadly equivalent to the sums spent annually per patient on life pro-longing drug for other cancers. We need urgently to campaign for a nationwide equitable service for all cancer patients.
Well enough rant for now, we are home G is still in remission, the snow is gone, and we are off for a celebratory lunch.
I completely agree with all you say. The NHS is in a parlous state. It must be heartbreaking to the very many dedicated people working within in it that mismanagement and a lack of political will, and sometimes sheer ignorance, means that potentially life-saving treatments are being denied. Perhaps we have ourselves to blame too - most of us have grown up taking this health service, that was once the envy of the world, for granted and have collectively taken our eye off the ball. One in three of us are likely to get cancer. The onus is on us to make sure that politics and economics do not lead to further rationtioning of treatments. We know that privatisation is happening by stealth and it is happening, in part, because many of us are being offered no alternative.
And don't mention bankers and bailouts and bonuses! Grrrr!!
So pleased it worked and whilst the stress and strain does not vanish you hopefully have a moment of relief.
I totally agree re treatment and find it hard to understand after all the investment why some treatments are available abroad and their survival rates so much better.
Still things are better than they were so lets keep the pressure on to ensure they continue to get better and become equitable.
