Den and I spent 6 hours in the oncology treatment centre yesterday. What a mix up. The nurses assumed I didn’t need blood testing even though I told them last week that Wharfedale was closed for Bank Holiday and I was asked to come in 2 hours before my appointment to get my bloods tested. Then my paperwork was misplaced, the nurses assuming the pharmacy had it already. They didn’t. Of course, and quite rightly, nothing could be done without the paperwork so treatment didn’t start till gone five and we left at 7.30!! Whose idea was it to change to Tuesdays to speed up the process? Whoever she is, she’s daft!
Den is hilarious to watch. He can sit in a dentist’s chair and take anything but, in chemo treatment, even averting his eyes from the nurse’s needle-work isn’t enough - he turns his body away! And the needles are going into ME!! Yesterday I got my favourite nurse, K. She’s young and entertaining, persistent and an absolute genius at painfree cannula insertion! D took quite a shine to her, especially when she couldn’t say ‘statistics’ which he used to teach. When I tried, it was even worse - my mouth was misbehaving badly and I had a lisp Shirley Temple could never have improved on. And now I discover he’s miffed because I’ve asked Anne already to take me to my last chemo (which will be preceded by a Monday blood test and therefore NOT take 6 hours), like I’m depriving him of a privilege.
I saw Dr U who happily prescribed the Naproxen I needed for the rib pain and it’s definitely helped with the pain today though, despite the Lansoprazole, it doesn’t suit my digestive system. And he’s arranged for the preliminary radiotherapy session to be put back to mid-May, with radiotherapy starting the last week of May. It does prolong things but it also gives me three weeks respite from bloody hospitals!!
Today’s been nice. I started by writing a complaint to the practice manager about not being contacted last Wednesday and left in agony over the past week. She tried to contact me several times this afternoon but I was out. Basically, I was complaining that they’ve focused so much on building a thriving business that they’re losing sight of the patients. If the psychiatrist, the nutritionist and the community nurse can ring to find out how I’m getting on, surely my doctor can. It makes me feel ancient because I’m harking back to the good old days when you had the same doctor, could get an appointment the next day and they knew your medical history. Anyway, I asked her to look into what happened to the request from St James’s nurse last week. A car crash, cancer, chemotherapy - how ill do you have to be to get the right attention?
Lisa drove me over to see Judy (where I kept losing track of what I was saying) and popped to Morrisons to get me some mango juice - the nurse said several patients say it helps salivation. Better late than never, I guess. We stopped off at the butcher’s to get the chicken for Tantrum Stew and I bought a single thin pork sausage to try out. It smelt right. It kind of tasted right. But D oven-cooked it so the skin was tough. Anyway, I am going to add sausage to the shopping list now. Anyway, we stopped off at Cookridge Hall for a coffee and I bumped into a few people I knew which was nice. Lisa and I had some grown up time together. As we left, I realised I’d left my beanie on the chair so I went back for it. The lad behind the bar had obviously been asking about my illness and I heard him say “Bless her.” I felt about 90 so I piped up “People pay for these buzz cuts - I got mine for free.” Not strictly true but a good point to leave on. Bless her???
Oh, look what’s back:
My lost glasses, the one’s I like to hide behind as my lashes get fewer by the hour. No note, just stuff found in the car before crushing - directions scrawled on envelopes, an Asda receipt. All very useful? But the glasses made my day. Good job I didn’t go to Specsavers after all.
And now I build up to the worst days of the week. I doubt I’ll be tapping keys for a while. ONLY ONE MORE TO GO. I can’t get my head round it.
No comments:
Post a Comment