The Demise of Roland Ratso: Chapter thirty five

Friday 20th March and I am treble booked – we are doing an open day at the community building, I have the consultant at 11.00am and the local school’s talent competition at night. I get up at 7.00 am – I have left my mobile in my trousers and the alarm is going frantic, waking Irene up. She is not a morning person and I start the day with an earful of expletives. The immersion has been turned off so my bath is luke warm A great start to the day! I assume the position on the pan – left hand clutching the handrail on the bath that I have put in for Irene and the right hand grabbing the towel basket stack and prepare myself for the anal onslaught. The poo slides out “like a carpet.” The gel is working brilliantly. During the pit I worked with an old miner who was about two hundred years old – a real Leicestershire character and whenever we were doing any work that required heavy lifting he would say “let’s slide it in like a carpet” It was a “had to be there moment” but I constantly tell my offspring that things need sliding in “like a carpet.” Anyway that’s what my poo did. Except that it slid out like a carpet. We have to tie up bunting and set up a PA system which goes relatively well seeing as it’s a load of geriatrics (and Jonathan). At ten O’clock I go and pick Irene up so she can see what I go through. Ring road to the park and ride, Medilink to hospital and then into the (organised?) chaos of the oncology waiting room. We arrive at 10.55 and I tell Irene that it will be at least 11.45 before we get summoned. At 1115 my name gets called. Unprecedented scenes and we are ushered into the consulting room where I am weighed and asked to take a seat. The consultant comes in after about ten minutes and asks how I am. I tell him OK and he says we will start you on another chemotherapy. I ask him for some gel because quite seriously I can’t live without it. “I’ll go and sort out your prescription” We think he is coming back because I have a number of questions. We wait and wait and then the nurse comes in. “Mr. Wilkie! Are you still here?” Looks like it. “We have sent your prescription to pharmacy, go and wait outside and your drugs will be brought to you. A likely story I tell Irene. I could do with seeing the consultant – the nurse tells me he has gone for lunch! I tell Irene we will have a cup of tea and then go and seek my drugs because one thing is for sure they will not be brought to me. Irene moans about the WRVS tea. Mine is fine but I don’t take milk and after a suitable interval we go to the pharmacy. There is a big green carrier bag on the counter with my name on it! Result! Then back to the open day at the Futures community building.