‘For I am the Lord, I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed.’ Malachi 3:10
If cancer was a theme park ride, it would be one of those extreme ones that you don’t really want to put yourself through but you do anyway, regretting it after the first infinity plunge and vainly trying to block out the ensuing corkscrew twists, loop-the-loops and 4G pulls.
Most days feel like that at the moment, with the Ups quickly leading to Downs and back again, but today was a particularly fine example. It was spent entirely within the confines of my hospital room (feeling grateful every second that its borders were not defined by bright blue crepe paper curtains like the bays in the neighbouring ward), in the company of my loyal and dedicated right-hand men Steve (hubby) and Michael (eldest son). We beavered away busier than Santa’s elves – another thing you don’t realise about cancer is that it has to be project managed. You would think that everything would just happen and that you would be carried by the professionals as if you were riding on a cloud but the reality is different. You have to co-ordinate, chase, question, research. We are seeking a second opinion at the Royal Marsden, and ‘just’ need to email across my notes to set this in motion. It would be easier to stroll out of the Tower of London carrying the Crown Jewels than to obtain medical notes from the powers that be, so much of the day yesterday was spent investigating that (no joy as yet..).
I was visited by the Homecare team, and daily help arranged for next week (a carer?! How can I need a carer?!) along with an ingenious mini deckchair-like device to raise my head up in bed as I can’t sleep flat with my now-pregnant-with-twins tummy. That was an Up.
Cue of course the Down… after waiting all day for the usual consultant’s ward visit we finally discovered that she had refused to see me as I’m ‘not gynae’ and the colorectal team had said the same, both parties then assuming that I would be seen by some other kind of doctor (Doctor Zhivago? Doctor Who?). Cue much kerfuffle and something of a comedy act amongst the nursing team as they sought to find someone to see me (find a doctor in a hospital? Don’t be silly!)
Enter stage right a jolly but slightly nervous looking medic: ‘I’m not sure if I’m quite the person you need..’. ‘You’ll do… can you please arrange for the pre-chemo DPD blood test, prescribe the drug the palliative nurse has requested and measure the fluid level in my stomach for ascites, to ascertain if a fluid tap would be beneficial?’ (see, I have become a medical expert overnight). All of the above was actioned (no fluid tap required; I was rather hoping that it would be) and I was given the go-ahead to check out of Hotel Lister and head for home.
‘The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.’ (Isaiah 40:8)
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