Last of the summer wine at Nottingham City hospital

So anyway Picko was off for his radiotherapy pre-checks so I thought I would go with him and take a trip down memory lane. Except it wasn’t. A trip down memory lane that is. When I had my radio it was in the old suite and Picko is in the new purpose built radiotherapy suite. My radiotherapy was via a steam driven LINAC (I swear I could hear those girls shovelling coal on while the LINAC did its best.) My slogan was LINAC TWO are my favourite crew. But then LINAC TWO went on maintenance so I was on LINAC THREE – what slogan can you get from that? LINAC THREE makes you wee? Then LINAC THREE broke down and I was relegated (or was it promoted) to LINAC ONE – LINAC ONE is loads of fun!

The radiotherapy suite is new BUT they still managed to have a tatty old cardboard suggestion box just to make sure we knew it was the health service. Picko had his sealed instructions which could only be opened once we outside territorial waters – well in the City hospital car park anyway. Edward’s Lane – check. Gate four – check. Scan the signs for the purple entrance. Mmmmmm – green, yellow, orange – then I spot a sign PURPLE and the wall is painted purple. Except I am colour blind so my purple may not be your purple, or Picko’s purple but soon we entered the hallowed portal. The first sign that greets us is “Bereavement counselling” followed by “registrar of deaths.” Sorry I have to say it. This is a tad insensitive for victims of the C disease even if it is a new all singing all dancing radiotherapy suite. The next sign is North corridor. Anyone who knows the City hospital knows about their legendary corridors. There are miles of them. Nottingham QMC claims to have 33 miles of corridors but City must have more. And they are named North, South. East and West, with junction numbers to boot. But seeing as I ain’t Christopher Columbus it doesn’t make much difference to me that they idiot proofed the plan with a copy of the world famous London Underground map. Hang on! I don’t think it is a copy........THAT’s why I keep getting lost!

May I digress – a couple of years ago and they were knocking down part of the City hospital and when they knocked down a wall there was half a 1930’s bus behind it. I kid you not. Apparently it was there to help amputees after the war as a physiotherapy exercise.

So we tie our ball of string to the door of the bereavement counsellor’s office and start to make our way towards the heart of the suite which wasn’t very far unravelling as we go. The string that is. Not us. Or maybe ...

The old LINAC suite was adequate. It was comfortable, well lit, dated but functional. It had ceiling tiles that you could count to while away the hours. (Isn’t it ironic that those of us fighting the big C and whose time is most precious are made to spend so much of that precious time in hospital waiting rooms?)

The receptionist asks Picko’s name and address and taps into his computer. His face screws up a bit. HANG ON! This is Picko I want to scream, not Wilkie. That was the “Oh shit” Wilkie’s here again sort of face – the one where a) I have got the wrong date, b) they have got the wrong date c) I have got the wrong hospital or d) Who is Wilkie anyway? He asks Picko his name and address. Picko says that we have already done that. He asks again, name address, date of birth, telephone number. He pulls a file out bearing the legend PICKO. Which he is. “Pah! Call that a file!” I tell him – mine is three times the size of THAT! Picko thinks his file is big enough for him anyway as he only small.

We are 20 minutes early so Picko gets me a coke and he has a hot chocolate. I will now let Picko tell you the rest in his own words!

• Well folks that was rather an un-eventful hospital outing.
  Appointment was for 3pm they called me at 3.15. A nice chap called Paul took me to a changing room told me to strip off all my clothes above the waist and put this rather fetching blue gown on and take a seat in the waiting room

·         Another 10 minutes pass and Paul is here. “Right then john follow me,” he opened a door took 5 steps and that was it we were in the ct room, no chance of losing him. “That gown” he said “is yours john bring it with you to every appointment”

Anyway i'm told to lie on the ct scanners bed and paul is joined by a young lady with striking red hair which clashed with my gown. She asked me the usual crap then asked me to point to the area that was to be scanned! Good job i was there to tell ‘em because f*ck knows what would have been scanned if not!

And then when i was laid down all nice and cosy paul and the red head ripped open my new gown and scared the crap out of me! I never noticed the velcro! “Right” they said “we are going to line you up then mark your skin with a pen” I'm ticklish i tell ‘em, Each time they touched me i jumped and they had to reline me, when they finally managed to get the 3 marks on me i sat up to have a look, that didn't please them either.

The scan itself was about 10 minutes maximum i exit the scanner and paul is waiting. “Right john now we remove the pen marks and then we mark your skin with ink.” Hang on a minute they have just removed the pen marks

“Just putting some ink on the skin john” says paul. Ginger has pissed off i think looking at the beautiful picture she has just took of my skinny body i bet she's got a framed copy hanging over her bed

well i'm laid there nice and still when paul stuck the needle in to break the skin so the ink can stain me, he showed me the needle before then swapped it for a knitting needle “F*ck me!!! it hurt. He did the one in the middle of my chest then waited for me to get back on the bed he then did the one on my left side

He caught me near the door get back on the bed! “John, got to do the one on the right now then you can go” so i brace myself for the last onslaught the 2 he's done are both bleeding and i hope to f*ck the blood don't wash the ink out as  i'm not going through this again i thought to myself

Now  i'm back on the ct bed and paul has applied the ink and i brace myself for the needle, this time he used a meat cleaver and i certain i heard him mutter under his breath “he aint f*cking ticklish now.” I'm allowed up and my blue gown looks like the  incredible hulk has been wearing it

I'm out back in the changing room get my clobber on re-assemble me new gown and take a seat in the waiting room to get my next instructions

A  couple of minutes and ginger makes an appearance she looks all flustered. “john” she says “you are booked for you first radio therapy treatment on the 31st of october but you are on holiday” Here we go i think to myself looks like i have to cancel my trip to Dublin (I,m due to fly on thursday) and I have been waiting 36 years to go there and i'm not prepared to lose my money. So i said to ginge that i did tell dr Sundar that i was away until the 1st of november

Off she trotts to get me a new date comes back with the 2nd november at - Now get this - 10 24am Hows that for an appointment time? i'd better phone the speaking clock on that morning to set my watch right, and can i say on here that i am one of the voices on the speaking clock thats my claim to fame. I asked ginger how long will the appointment take and her reply took me by suprise “15 minutes” she said “from booking in at reception to laying on the bed and having me gown ripped off - me blasted with radio waves ( will i be able to pick up trent fm on my own) and out the door” i can't see that happening if they have to touch me i'll jump get a bollocking and then they will have to start again. And that folks is it if there is anyone out there still reading this crap. I would like to take this opportunity to thank my old mate Drew Wilkie for coming with me to keep me company but i think we must have looked a right sight as i'm small and skinny and drew is well for those that don't know him and if you are old enough to remember wrestling when it was on the telly saturday afternoon drew looks like giant haystacks only wider. Thanks a lot mate are you joining me on the 2nd for the first dose remember we can't be late?