And so to The Christie for a checkup. First problem, the car park was full. Not even room for a blue badge ? No Chance.
So we parked down a side street, and walked back, past the car park which was now letting cars in. Spit!
Then we went to the wrong department, but it didn’t matter, because the right department was running two and a half hours late. I did my blood samples and then we sat there, and waited. In my case with increasing fear building up inside me.
Yes that is irrational, every sign says I am doing well, but that kind of fear does not need to be rational. Still one nice staff member brought out tea and biscuits. What a kind lady.
And the results were even better than expected. My blood counts are looking good, and there’s just a few tweaks to try to reduce the nausea. I can go to the Drama Group production with no qualms.
I got out of there feeling giddy with released tension. It almost made me feel nauseaus again.
But one thing left me feeling very sober. We met 2 people there, one a stranger, the other a colleague of my wife. Both have the same cancer as me, both started to show symptoms over Christmas, both were diagnosd within days of me, but theirs has spread.
The stranger can’t even eat or drink. She’s on a feeding tube into the belly.
The friend was initially told he had just 10 months. He has the same doctor as me, who says there is a chance, if he can get rid of the worst secondaries by chemo, then operate on the rest. Except that the first week he ended up back in The Christie, on a drip because he reacted badly to the chemo.
This man has a first class doctor. He has the support of a lovely wife, he has a church praying for him. He will do everything to win through, but he’s not stupid. He knows the odds, but he has faced them. That is courage, not me getting silly emotional, because my emotions don’t correspond to the reality as seen by my intellect.
It puts things into perspective. May he survive.