Thursday 4 June 2020

184. My changing world #7

It’s official. I have Government approval to leave my house, go for a walk but not have contact with people. That’s rather difficult, particularly since I want so much to have contact with people. It came across as a bit of an afterthought as if someone had at last said ‘What about the ones shielding? We seem to have forgotten them.’ So, although it actually matches Dr U’s advice, I’m wary. We’ve been shielded so long now that we must have low immunity even to the usual coughs and colds and the data indicates that, though the risk is low here, the risk is still there! Given that I am now contending with what may be an auto-immune problem on top of the ‘breast cancer within the last 5 years’ predicted vulnerability (I found out at last), I’d rather use my own judgment like we did when Kevin and Carol came round and we each sat 3 metres apart in a kind of square!

 Kathryn has just driven across from Wetherby with the girls to collect the Migraine Maker (aka rainbow blanket). Unless they are very good actresses, I think they loved the it. They’d made me a Thank You card with a picture of a mermaid (I think) and made me a little bracelet. It won’t be long before Anya is old enough to learn to knit. No one in her family can knit of course - I’ve always done it for them - so maybe she won’t learn. It was just so nice standing in the sun chatting to another person, albeit 2 metres apart.

Then it was time to pop round in the car, regardless of the orange spanner on the dashboard, to deliver the 60 mask extenders I’ve made for the hospital. Someone local collects all the donations and then packs them off. I think it’s a bit late for these and, much as I’d like a second wave just to prove what utterly reckless decisions have been made about relaxing lockdown lately, I really would prefer they were binned than needed. Driving back, I misjudged the turn into the drive and scraped the car along the low drystone wall. There are long and deep white scratches on my lovely ‘new’ dark grey paintwork now. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m safe to drive, yet I felt completely fine driving around. I can’t afford these misjudgments. I know it could happen to anyone but it’s happening to ME.

Tuesday I had a phone consultation with yet another oncologist, a Dr E, who sounded lovely. She seemed disappointed that there’s been no change in my joint pain despite being off the anastrozole - Dr U said 6 weeks, but perhaps he meant it would completely go in six weeks rather than I’d see some improvement. Well, my scepticism remains. There’s zero change. I’m still like an old lady in my body. Anyway, this doctor has made a referral to Rheumatology, asking them to see me before my next scheduled treatment in 5 weeks time. In normal circumstances that just wouldn't happen but she seemed to think I’d have a phone consultation within 2 weeks and then they’d want to see me at clinic. I’m hoping, even when they find nothing, that they’ll have useful suggestions for pain relief so I can move about with my usual mobility. I’m still agile - I can still hold my knees to my shoulders and touch my nose with my big toe (sitting of course!!), the usual things one does with one’s legs 😉 - it’s just when I move the particular joints that either they are locked or they hurt rather a lot.

So that’s Oncology, Neurology and Rheumatology, all because of chemo. I asked whether it could just be old age, speeded up by the chemo but Dr E was emphatic that I’m too young for old age. I don’t bloody feel it! It was reassuring to hear that though, with 69 approaching!

Just to prove I’m not just a whingeing grumpy old git, this was sent to me. It is me to perfection:

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