262. Shoes v cancer?

 Yesterday, I had a short-notice clinic appointment because they are short-staffed and overloaded. I had the pleasure of an appointment with one of the ‘senior team’, Professor U. I’d heard his name in the support group so I WhatsApp’d them and got “he’s lovely” (I’d been told he was a she), “he’s a bit scatty” and “he’s shit-hot on the latest research”. So that’s how the appointment started, with my telling him that. It certainly broke the ice because it took him straight into the research. Most of his work is research and it turns out he pioneered the trials of capecitabine in the late ‘90s and was delighted I was still on the drug and it was still working.

We (he?) talked for 45 minutes. he didn’t appear at all rushed so no wonder patients get antsy having to wait. He was particularly taken by my shoes, last year’s TOMS and I got ticked off by another oncologist for not wearing socks to avoid friction - she obviously wasn’t a shoe-fan. He also was intrigued by my comments on the Emmerdale storyline (subject for another post maybe), which none of his patients has mentioned to him and he’s going to take it up at the Trustees meeting of a charity recently set up - the UK Charity for Triple Negative Breast Cancer (UKCFTNBC - honest! You’d think all those brilliant minds could come up with something a tad more catchy). I checked that out and it has nothing there except requests for funding for research - too late for me.

So, much as I missed my lovely Dr U, now the ONLY full-time oncologist for breast cancer and therefore overworked, I actually enjoyed an appointment! Yes, he was scatty, yes he was lovely and yes he knew his stuff. My tumour marker has continued to rise, as have my blood markers, but they are still within the ‘normal’ range so nothing to worry about, just to keep an eye on. It means my cancer is there and active but the capecitabine is still containing it. But I’ve now seen a picture of someone’s fully developed skin met and it is f***ing awful. It should make me terrified of what’s to come but still it all seems not quite me. I don’t know if that makes sense but my mind just won’t take in what horrible things lie head. I’m relatively content with how things are, pottering along and doing ok. So, again thank god, it’s carry on with capecitabine, deal with the fatigue and the cape-tummy and continue to look like a healthy middle-aged woman. Yes, straight from the horse’s mouth. Looking well? Brilliant! Middle aged? I’ll swallow that!

It’s certainly been an odd time. I was shocked at how distressed I was at the Queen’s death. It really took me back to when Mum died in 2017 and I felt very tearful, let alone shocked. Now, who can feel ‘shocked’ when a 96 year old dies?? I didn’t plan following the developments but I found myself glued, with that sense of ‘awe and wonder’ primary teachers are expected to inspire in their pupils. As for the funeral, again glued to it and awestruck at the pageantry we have the privilege to exploit. I can’t think of another country whose military history can go so far back uninterrupted by revolution, war, whatever. What a ‘show’ they put on. Exemplary, eerie when the march began and, it seems, headed by my former colleague’s son, an officer in the Horseguards. If I’d only known at the time lol. Whether it was worth the cost or not, who knows? I think the new king acquitted himself very well. I just hope we cut him some slack but… with such a drip as our Prime Minister, I can’t see Charles remaining as neutral as his mama. I’ve always felt sorry for him, serving the longest apprenticeship ever, and hope he has a good ten years or more in him despite being a spoilt brat at times.