So brace yourselves.
I vow not to:
- Buy stuff from EBay
- Put the world to rights
- Write bad poetry
- Adopt unfitting political viewpoints
- Believe I am cleverer than I am
- Blog at 2:00 am to read and regret at 8:00 am
Maria’s face fell and she started making up the spare bed when I announced it. Yep a new chemotherapy chapter is about to open.
I had got used to the self administered variety but this is a return to the hospital drip feed version. Once a week initially and then once every two weeks. How will I fit it into my hectic schedule full of daytime TV and sleeping? So glad I have retired. This is a treatment regime that hitherto York did not have a license for so I am very fortunate to get it. I am slightly jumping the gun because as yet my new consultant has to have a multidisciplinary team meeting, coo! And a discussion with the National Amyloidosis Centre. Aren’t I important. I have to say I am glad to be led again. My treatment was in danger of drifting a bit while York Hospital struggled to recruit haematology specialists but it seems things are getting sorted which is very reassuring.
Yesterday I knew something was afoot when during my consultation a specialist nurse came to join us. This usually means the session is gonna involve a procedure (painful or embarrassing) or she’s gonna have to dispense tissues and comfort. Neither were necessary, just the usual leaflet describing the abominations your body will produce when subjected to the vellum. Actually touch wood my body has yet to react adversely to any of the chemo recipes so far.
This has been two years in coming and lucky me that there continues to be new treatments available – god know what they cost – I assume it might be on an ascending scale, try the cheap stuff first (Lidl chemo) if that doesn’t work try Tesco chemo then Waitrose chemo and finally Fortnums chemo that comes in a gift basket delivered by private jet.
As ever I continue to be profoundly impressed by the care I get at York yesterday I bought a caffeinated macchiato from Costa by mistake, gave it to the nurses who made me a decaffeinated instant in exchange and brought it to me in the waiting area – I have not had instant for thirty years and I was immediately transported back to working at Bonaparte Records in Bromley drinking gallons of instant coffee so that by the end of the day I would feel so bloated that I needed milking.
Coincidentally my next door neighbour is about to embark on a change of chemo so we were hoping we might get appointments together. The procedure takes a few hours so having a mate alongside might make the time pass more quickly – mind you that is a perfect opportunity for German study to take place on which subject – I had my German lesson online with Sophia yesterday. Yet another disaster. As bad as I have had so far. I panic and get brain freeze. She has to wait while I painfully fail to dredge up any German sentence with a passing resemblance to the one I intend to say. Often falling upon an English one of such inordinate complexity that it sounds like I am trying to fox her translation skills or demonstrate that I can at least speak my mother tongue. Maria has the same problem – Say it as simply as you can – “I went to town” – not “ Yesterday we decided, after much consideration to take a much needed trip to town.” Basically I would get as far as “yesterday” and the rest would be a string of incomprehensible German sounds punctuated by ‘becketian’ pauses and Anglo Saxon curses.
It seems I am drawn to the blog when my health concerns move to the foreground. I know why and I have repeated it many times: It makes me feel better. So no doubt you will hear from me again at least until I get used to the new chemo regime or bored with it.