|Yes, I know it's a wonky rubbish photo - but I'm being all devil-may-care|
Today was chemo day. My blood test results were OK, so it was full steam ahead. When I say ‘full steam’ I’m not really giving the true story. Picture an arthritic snail moving backwards half-heartedly with a limp and you’ll have an idea of how long the process took.
My appointment was scheduled for 10.30am. At about 11am a nurse came out and apologised saying that due to delays in the pharmacy my chemo hadn’t been prepared on time and I should come back at 12pm. So my sisters, who had accompanied me, and I went off to the café for a cuppa. We also got a paper and did the crossword. I’m not sure I can describe the scene properly but we kept mishearing each other, getting things wrong and generally being dim. It was a bit like an episode of the Golden Girls only with a lot more dementia and a lot less ice cream.
At 12pm I went back to the chemo unit. When Sis No 3 came back to get me about an hour later I still hadn’t had my treatment. Then when I was finally called I didn’t get to go to the swanky brand new chemo unit but, due to a lack of seats, to a poky disused office upstairs.
However, the chemo itself went fine and the nurse was lovely, answering some questions I had left over from seeing the oncologist last time, giving me her contact number should I have further queries and generally being very encouraging. Big tick to her!
However, after the chemo Nice Nurse went to get my medication only to find that the key to the fridge had gone missing. Another nurse on the unit had burned herself and had had to go to A & E and they thought the key was with her. Eventually all was sorted and we went home. But it was a long day for me and no doubt also for my poor sister who certainly got more than she bargained for in terms of waiting around.
Meanwhile Sis No 1 had been doing her bit in the afternoon as a volunteer worker and then preparing my dinner. It’s that pie again – hurrah.
Having three older sisters has been a total pain in oh so many ways. For example they all think they know better than me (how ludicrous is that?). They also scarred me for life when I was about 7 years old when they got hold of Bunny (as pictured at the very top of the blog) held him by his ears and punched him across the room to one another. I, of course, had been a little angel and done nothing to provoke them whatsoever. I have other stories of their outrageous treatment of me – available to anyone who submits a small fee. However, I have to say that I may have to let bygones be bygones (even though grudge holding is one of my hobbies) as they have been utter, utter bricks lately. And don’t feel left out Sis No 2, I know you’ll be doing another one of your hotpots on return from Australia.