Hello all,
You may remember I was feeling a bit precious at having to have my onco app by telephone. I really wanted face to face for various reasons, I did complain but managed to get a promise that although it would still be by phone, it would by my usual chap.I was told to be available at 4pm and expect some flexibility.
At midday I was at the bottom of my mountainous garden with a friends son who is doing some tidying for me. He likes a fag and now and again so do I. As we were enjoyably puffing away, Mrs Norberry was shrieking at me that the onco was on the phone, only 4 hrs early
I scrambled up the garden, ended up on all fours and fell into the living room. I took the phone but couldn't speak. It was not the fag but the sudden burst of energy sapped every last bit of strength I had.
I was trying to apologise for my inability to talk whilst he was apologising for calling so early. Obviously, some questions were asked, plenty if questions were forgotten mainly because of Mrs Norberry whispering what I should be asking while refusing to take the phone herself. A shambles really.
The upshot is that he said I have managed to extract three years of life and I should now look to enjoy each day as it comes. I asked for another three but that was not forthcoming - I pay his wages! Huh.
I have just had a bar of chocolate so the female hormones are doing their job but I still dont like ironing so some male ones still exist.
Thinking of all you who really do have something to moan about. I hope you all have years of moaning left inside of you. X
I have self checked this for offensive content but I am easily satisfied so am posting.
