Thursday 30 March 2006

The day before my PET scan and I have had many well wishers, including my ex mother-in-law, which for the first time since all this began bought a lump to my throat. [of the emotional kind]

My daughter is able to talk to me about it now, which is good.

Tuesday 28 March 2006

Our daughter is One year old today! Had a wonderful day.

I received a letter of confirmation for the Scan on Friday.
I am getting some really funny headaches at the moment – that may be due to a lack of sleep. I am pretty tired too, but not too tired to Blog.

Monday 27 March 2006

I am off work this week through choice, taking a week annual leave.
A colleague and friend emailed me today from work – he has lit two candles for me at his Catholic Church Service and reckons if my scan does not show that I am completely cured of cancer then he is going to ask the Priest for his money back!

Sunday 26 March 2006- Mothers' Day

My mother has offered to get a decorator in to finish the job I have started in the living room – as nice as this gesture is I am sure it is only one step away from a charity paying for me to go swim with Dolphins! [I am ill but not dying!]

I will leave the final decision on this one with my partner, she may feel better with it all done.

My stepdaughter has offered to stand in and swim with Dolphins should the opportunity arise.

Friday 24 March 2006

And so to work: I can now tell those I wish to know.
Two good friends, both managers, who are shocked and disappointed, and a colleague who believes I shall overcome because of my positive attitude.

Now bring it on.


14.00 Received call from Tracey Hair – unable to make appointment with PET scan hospital due to problems their end. Promises to try again on Monday and wishes me well.

16.00 Receive call from PET Hospital – A lady in her best British Broadcasting voice informs me I have and appointment for next Friday 31 March @ 16.00 for my Scan. She explains that my Scan is being pushed through due to the urgency put on it by my local hospital – they are really batting for me on this one bless them. The scan will last 1 ½ hours from start to finish, this includes the injection of a Radioactive material that will show up hot-spots during the scan. The scan itself should only last approximately 30 minutes. I will not be able to ‘hug’ my daughter for some hours afterwards, and must keep others at ‘arms’ length for at least 5 hours.

There is a similarity between me and Homer Simpson there.

My daughter, home from school, felt up to asking me questions about the phone calls above: that is good after her initial shocked reaction from last nights revelation.

16.17 I leave a phone message for either Tracey with the news of the Scan appointment.

16.47 Receive call from Tracey Vein – she appears pleased and relieved that I have been given an appointment for next week. She will inform the Doctors secretary so a possible slot for my operation can be pencilled in. She will chase the results up next after the scan.

20.00 Receive call from my Brother-in-law – he has booked a holiday from work next week to drive me to Middlesex for the Scan and will not take No for an answer.
[I think my Sister has put him up to it because she wants to see if he will glow in the dark after sharing a car with me]

My partner, who would not have been able to take me due to my toxicity, is somewhat relieved that I will not be travelling unaccompanied.

Thursday 23 March 2006

I left a message on the answer phone for Tracey but still no word from her.

Building myself up to tell the girls today, and then my mother tomorrow [it will save my Sister having to tell her].

Early evening I get a call from Tracey, not the nurse I was expecting as this Tracey is the Vein nurse from the Bronchoscopy. I will have to call them Tracey Hair, on account of her spiky highlighted hairstyle and Tracy Vein.

Anyway, Tracey Vein tells me she should have a date for the PET scan for me tomorrow. It will more than likely be in Middlesex, more of that later no doubt.

We confirm and compare all that has passed thus far and I ensure her that I have all the necessary information I need regarding my condition.

Eventually, having seen the girls mum upon her release from hospital, I can get around to informing the girls of my illness.

No time wasted, so as soon as they are altogether in the living room, still stripped of paper, I take a deep breath.

Although I am relieved to get that off my chest [I will be more relieved to get the tumour off it] it was not easy.

My eldest took it quite matter-of-fact, as if to say ‘OK Dad, get on with it, I will be there for you’.
My stepdaughter says little, she never does on serious matters, she will no doubt mull it over and perhaps talk to her mum.
My youngest from my first marriage is a different kettle of fish altogether, she takes it really badly: there are tears and she keeps her distance for the rest of the evening. I know that sounds really bad but it isn’t; she has a way of dealing with things that highlight just how sensitive she is, and it is easy to forget looking at her that she is still only 15 years old. She will also be there for me when the time comes.

Our baby daughter, 1 year old on Tuesday next week, is thankfully oblivious to it all and consoles me with a ‘Wot, wot, wot’, which is her favourite sound at the moment.

A weight has been lifted, if not a little ‘shifted’ onto others but I remember asking the surgeon the last time I had cancer how I would tell my family, he replied
‘just tell them like it is as I did to you’.

All will be well.

[I opened an envelope given to me by my best friend at work today, neither of us are in the office next week. It was a little note explaining how she was feeling about my illness and how her wishes were with me. Accompanying the letter was a little ‘Angel’ broach, and although she knows I am not religious she wants it to bring me luck’. Thank you. I am superstitious about having lucky charms and will not carry them, but it will remind me that people do care]

Wednesday 22 March 2006

Not a good day today. I was hoping Tracey from my local hospital would call today, as she wanted me to update her on Monday’s meeting with the Doctor at the City Hospital. Added to this was the disappointment at not being able to bring my two girls up to speed with events.

I felt really low, probably from frustration more than anything else – it’s the not knowing.

Their mum is not due out of hospital until tomorrow.

Monday 20 March 2006

Another Hospital: another waiting room: another Doctor.

This was the morning we were expecting answers to the questions we had complied:

Questions:
When will I know what I have for definite?

Primary/Secondary?

Malignant/benign?

What other treatment will I require?

Chemotherapy: how much; side effects; what course and how long.

Staging?


When is operation scheduled for?

How long will the operation last?

How long will I be hospitalised?

How long will I be off work?

What are the possible risks?

Recovery timescales

Post operative risks: MRSA

What are the chances of a complete recovery?

What support program if any?


Points for consideration:

Holiday booked

Jury service for April 10th, note from hospital exemption?

I had a feeling before we even left this morning that we were still not going to get all of the above answered, especially the first six I was dreading the answer to.

We dropped our little one off at her grandmothers and made an excuse as to why I was not at work to two of our other three daughters. The third daughter was off driving in her car in her pyjamas just for the hell of it because she had passed her driving test on Friday.

I am also the proud owner of two new pairs of pyjamas, in anticipation of having to spend sometime in hospital for the operation.

The City hospital is old. It looks like the kind of place that NHS sitcoms would be based on should and the place you could easily raise arguments for a hospital closure.

The waiting room is barely occupied so the wait should not be too long. The receptionist is, like the corridors, pretty cold.

We have to wait one and a half hours past my appointment time; I conclude from overheard conversations by the nurse that some vital pieces of paperwork are missing from my files.

Sometime later, having been weighed, blood pressure taken and a wee sample supplied I get to see the Doctor.

I run through my history thus far – obviously missing from the files.

Both the Doctor and a student examine my chest and stomach.

Back in the Doctors consultation area we finally go through my options and I get to see the results of the CT scan for the first time. The growth is 3cmX4cm in size – quite big then?

Options come down to an operation to remove it or a PET scan [that’s a new one on me] followed by an operation to remove it if it is an isolated incidence, or a review on other treatment if it is not.

The Doctor is thorough in his explanation and honest in his advice. I chose to have the PET scan and then, hopefully, the operation.

We are glad to be away from the Hospital and decide a sausage and bacon-butty is in order from a van in a local shopping Car Park.

Upon returning home I phone my friend at work to bring her up to speed and to stop her from worrying too much and I go onto the Internet to look up PET scans.

I also call the ex wife to wish her luck for tomorrows operation and to jokingly gloat that my lump is bigger than hers.

PET Scan - PET stands for Positron Emission Tomography. This is a fairly new type of scan that can show how body tissues are working and not just what they look like. A PET scan can show the difference between scar tissue and active cancer tissue, for example.

I fall asleep on the settee at home to make up for a restless sleep the previous night.

Far from feeling refreshed I feel a little deflated as we are no farther forward with either a date for the operation or knowing the extent, staging, of the Cancer.

Questions answered:

When is operation scheduled for?
Two to Three weeks dependant upon the PET Scan.

How long will I be hospitalised?
Approx 6 days

How long will I be off work?
At least two months

Jury service for April 10th, note from hospital exemption?
Phone and cancel due to pending operation [letter compiled from resulting call and ready to send]

This evening we visit my Sister and tell her the news, she knew we had something to say as we rarely visit mid-week for coffee. One of the hardest parts is telling others and how to do it. She lost her boss and good friend to Cancer last year: our father died from Cancer in 1998: And she watched me go through it 14 years ago, this was never going to be easy and had made me feel ill all day.
I have to tell my Girls soon, I would rather have told them earlier but the timing is awkward with their Mum’s illness and operation today. I have heard she has had her Op and is well, she may be home tomorrow.

Friday 17 March 2006 - St Patricks Day

Late in for work today, we are not sleeping well. The little one is having a few restless nights and my news on top of that is not making it any easier for my Partner.
What worries me more than the thought of Cancer right now is that those around me may not being able to cope with the stress.

My best friend at work knows about it and she is stressing too, bless.

On top of all that we went for a session with a Solicitor today to formulate a Will: how mad is that? It is only for peace of mind and needed doing but I wish we had done it ages ago when we first moved in together [it was my idea though].

On top of that I informed my girls’ mother today, my Ex-wife. She is going for her operation next week I figured, correctly, she would be stronger now than later on. I can now plan to tell my daughters and step-daughter next week when I know more myself.
Weekend was not exactly fraught but it was not very relaxing to say the least. Did not decorating this weekend at all.

Thursday 16 March 2006

Thinking about when I can tell my girls. Will have to wait until I know more on Monday and time it around their Mum’s treatment.
I am feeling pretty low this afternoon having been on the internet to read up as much as I can about Lung Cancer to formulate some Questions for the Doctor next week.

The one thing I cannot knock from past experience and to present is the NHS – thank you for being there.

Tuesday 14 March 2006

[I went into work this morning; life goes on]
I had a surprise call from Tracy this morning at work, even though it was her day off. She was again very supportive and explained yesterday’s events to me once more to clarify some things. She assured me that although they had a suspicion it was a malignant tumour they were not 100 percent sure. I would be having the operation because I was still a ‘young man’ and it would be better taken out than left in. The operation, which was inevitable, would negate the need for further investigations that would probably only delay things.

Roll on Monday.

Monday 13 March 2006

[I went into work this morning; my appointment at the Out-Patient Clinic for the results of the tests is not until 11.45: I also received a phone call from home informing me that I had another letter requesting my attendance at a Clinic at yet another hospital on March 20th.]

Out-Patients - The longest wait in a waiting room so far. A nurse, who took my blood pressure and weight, is rushed off her feet, but very jolly. She mentioned that it was an unlucky day with it being the 13th day of the month and how everything seemed to be going wrong.
I will not be seeing the Chest doctor today; I will be seeing a locum.

I settled in to read my book whilst other patients around me got agitated.
One in particular was very annoying as he sighed and moaned every five minutes. He even corrected someone when they informed a patient the clinic was behind schedule by 1 hour
‘One hour and 20 minutes to be precise, my appointment was at eleven o’clock’ he piped up for all to hear.
And If I had my way you would be waiting another hour longer than everyone else you old fart.

My wait was a little shorter and a lot less painful than his, since I had my book for company. Plus, I am not as petty minded as some.

The Nurse, whom I shall call Tracy since that is her name, who had first arranged for all the aforementioned tests and examinations called me to the Doctors room, where I met the locum. As with all locums he was young.

‘What do you think you are being investigated for?’, or words to that effect, was the first thing he said to me as I sat down.
I looked at Tracy sat opposite for support and she gave me a knowing sad smile.
‘I reckon it is cancer’ I replied.

He confirmed that it was and an appointment had been made at another Hospital to discuss options. I told him I knew and had already been informed by letter that morning. Poor Tracy grimaced, she was incredulous that the letter should had been sent prior to this mornings debrief. At least I cannot say the NHS is not efficient.

It was explained that my case had been discussed last Wednesday and all signs pointed towards a Malignant Tumour in a lobe of my right lung. [We have three lobes in the right hand side and only to in the left, just as well it’s that side then]
Next Monday’s appointment would discuss my options with regards to its removal.

I was asked if I had any questions, I asked a few, but after a hiatus between us Tracy suggested she took me off to her office for a sit down and a chat.

The one question I wanted to ask and it spun over and over in my mind was ‘would I be able to place Tennis?’, I don’t know why as I have never played before. I guess it was meant as a joke to lighten the atmosphere in the room, but my mind would not let it out.

Tracy’s office – she explained as best she could what would happen regarding the operation, she asked how I felt and was extremely supportive.
My real concern was how and when would I tell my daughters since their mother was due in Hospital for a procedure to remove and treat skin Cancer on Tuesday 21 March. With that and exams they have more than enough on their plate right now.
I assure Tracy I would get through this for my family, including my lovely 11-month old daughter.

Right now I needed to tell my partner and have a smoke [silly I know still smoking cigars but its what I do]

Tracy gave me a card promised to stay in touch and wished me luck as I left, it was her day off tomorrow but if I needed to ask questions or talk then I should not hesitate to call; someone will be in the office to help.

Needless to say I did not return to work.
I broke the news as quickly as I could to my Partner; there is no other way of doing it. It was naturally upsetting for her. We are there for each other.

Thursday 9 March 2006

I decided to call the hospital to try and talk to the Endoscopy doctor to ascertain a little more into the procedure and the conversation that my mind had forgotten.
Unfortunately she was not in but her secretary would call, and she did.

She sympathetically listened and promised to ask the ‘vein’ Nurse what had been said on Monday.

The vein nurse called back: in addition to filling in the blanks from the post-procedural conversation she also had some unexpected news:-

I was expecting to see the chest Doctor on the 20th March, due to the results of the tests take thus far this had been bought forward to the 13th March

Bugga, this is serious.

This weekend I did not strip any paper off the walls. We had friends around for dinner.

Tuesday 7 & Wednesday 8 March 2006

Due to a ban on driving for 48 hours after the procedure I stayed off work for these two days.

[It was at this point that I remember that I could not recall anything the Doctor had said to me after the procedure. I can tell you what kind of biscuit I was eating when she sat down opposite me to talk, but my mind is a complete blank with regards to any conversation – weird.]

Monday 6 March 2006

The day of the dreaded Bronchosopy.
Again restrictions on food and drink, I was determined to get as much fluids inside me as I could, I drank coffee right up to the cut off point.

My Partner and daughter of 11 months accompanied me to the Day Procedure department and once I had checked in and had acquired a contact number for them to call back on later for my collection I said goodbye to them.

The waiting room was full and I thought I would be here ages, good job I had my book again.
I soon realised that most of those in the waiting room were not awaiting a procedure at all, but had merely come along to support their, mother, father, husband, wife etc. The man sat next to me had both his wife and daughter with him.
It was not long before I was called.
I followed the nurse out of the waiting room and shown to a chair in a corner of the examination room as all the beds were full.

Once I’d had my blood pressure taken I remained in the chair, hidden by the side curtain of the one of the cubicles, for the next hour.

I watched an older man, also in for a Bronchosopy - his third, hobble to and fro from the toilet. I wish he had kept his unasked for comments on the procedure to himself – when he asked if I had had my enema yet? I felt like telling him to ‘feck-off’ and leave me to get on with this in my own way, there is nothing worse than a know-it-all who believes that all that has happened to him with be exactly the same for others.

As I suspected there was no enema, I had followed the eating instructions to the letter. However, once I was moved to one of the now vacant examination cubicles there was a problem with fitting the Vent-Flow needle in my vain.
This needle has to be put into the vain on the back of your hand for the administration of the sedative prior to the procedure.

Since my veins were practically burnt out from the Chemo some12 years ago they now appear to go into spasms whenever a needle comes in contact with them. A doctor had to be called for because the nurse was unwilling to try a vein further up the arm having unsuccessfully tried the back of both hands. She was not comfortable or familiar with sticking a needle anywhere other than a hand.

The Doctor, obviously inexperienced and also unsure of himself when it came to hitting the vein in the arm went off to get himself a decent handful of paper towels because he said he was expecting a lot of blood, my blood. Whilst he was gone I took advantage of the fact that he had left my notes behind and quickly looked through them.

Apparently we were definitely looking at form of Cancer sitting in my lungs. The needle in the arm and the impending camera down the throat paled into insignificance after that.

Armed with a little more knowledge and a needle in the arm I waited for the Doctor performing today’s procedure to come and talk to me.

The female doctor talked me through what would happen to me during and after the procedure. She mentioned the complications that may arise, 1 in 1,000 people have an adverse affect during procedure.
‘I am not the 1000th person to have it done today?’ I asked jokingly
‘It’s just an average figure’ came the poker-faced reply.

‘Some people have been known to stop breathing during the procedure, but we are trained to deal with that’ – comforting.

I tried to get her to commit to it being a cancerous growth, which I think we all knew it would be. According to my sneaky peek at the notes the questions being asked were: Was it Primary/Secondary? Malignant/Benign?

I was informed the Bronchosopy may not prove conclusive as the offending item may be inaccessible, if this was the case I may need yet another type of procedure which would include a biopsy.

I signed the consent form for the procedure and walked through to the procedure room.

I talked away to a room full of people, the Doctors, the vein one and the Poker one, the nurse with the unsuccessful jab rate, and at least two, if not three others in the room.
A jelly type material was placed up my nose and I was asked to breathe it in sharply and swallow any residue that found its way into my throat. This was to numb the nose cavity and easy the passage of the Endoscope tube as it went up the nose. The taste was not too pleasant but bearable.

I continued to talk as they injected the sedative, talked as they injected more, talked as they injected more, talked……………..

I awoke as I was wheeled into the recovery room and talked, and talked, and talked to the poor woman on the next bed to me. She was relieved when she was allowed to leave the room to be rid of the gibbering idiot next to her.

It was not long before we were reunited again in the holding room for tea and biscuits.

It was whilst I was supping tea that I was told the Doctor would like to come and talk to me before I was allowed home.
The doctor came and went.

I waited for my partner to arrive to pick me up, unbeknown to me she waited in the waiting room for me to be told I could leave, I got fed up of asking if she had arrived and went to look for myself, she had been there for a least an hour, we wasted no more time waiting and left for home.

Friday 3 March 2006

I was aware of the approximate location of the ward dealing with the heart and respiratory tests and headed off in that direction.
I must have looked lost because a friendly Nurse asked me what I was looking for as I looked up from the ECG paperwork with a puzzled expression upon my face.

Nurse - ‘ECG? Upstairs, turn right, you cannot miss it’
‘Thank you’

They way she motioned ‘turn right’ should’ve given it away; she almost turned on the spot as she spoke. How many women have I met who, to this day, still cannot tell their left from their right? I have an understanding with my Partner that, when I am driving and she is navigating, instead of using ‘left’ or ‘right’ we use ‘your side’ and ‘my side’, so much easier and a lot less dangerous.
Top of the stairs I turned right, ten paces later I realised she had meant left. That little mistake from a very helpful lady had bought a welcome smile to face; I wonder if 10 paces after she had left me she realised she had said right meaning left?

Another waiting room to sit in; a side room with a TV playing to itself as the only other occupant was not taking any notice of it. I wondered how long he had been there as he asked me for the time of day. He was obviously an ‘In-patient’ as he was sitting in a wheel chair in his pyjamas and dressing gown, having difficulty breathing. I felt fit.

I did not have to wait long, I was soon being attended to. I was measured for height, 5ft 7ins; I knew I was getting older as I had shrunk an inch from what I believed my height to be.
I was taken into a side room and had to blow into a machine, three times: slightly below what it should be, obviously for someone of my stature. The nurse taking these measures was a heavy smoker when not at work and would struggle to do the tests herself.
The ECG was proving tricky as one of the pads they attach to the body had gone missing. Another machine was bought in and the test was over within minutes. As I stood up from the bed to dress the missing pad fell from between my legs.

Another wait now, but no drinking or eating, I had been forbidden to do either since this morning due to the impending CAT scan. I waited firstly in my car and then on a bench whilst reading my book for an hour.

I arrived in the X-Ray department as directed 10 minutes prior to my appointment.
I was soon called through to the CAT scan waiting area, having first slipped into one of those back-to-front gowns they give you to put on – these things afford no dignity whatsoever.

Cleanest, brightest waiting room so far and only two of us in there.

I have had a CT scan before, during the investigations for the time I had Cancer in 1992, I am therefore not apprehensive about this at all.

I do not have long to wait.
The room is also bright, clean and very new looking. The CT machine is practically brand new but similar to how I had remembered it.

I was injected with a contrast medium through a vein in order to increase the amount of information obtained from the scan. I was informed that I would have a warm feeling passing around my body as the fluid was injected.
Well! That was bloody hot; it felt as if it travelled down the length of my body and out of my arse. I was sure I would not wish to look inside my pants once I had got off the Scan table!
However once the painless CT was over it was evident that nothing had passed through my rectum and my pants were as clean as when I put them on this morning, well almost.

Back to the waiting room.

I saw what I believed to be my files on a table behind me, and the results of my Scan being spat out from a machine also situated just behind me.
I asked a passing member of staff if they were indeed my results and got a definite ‘Yes’ with a friendly smile.

Then entered what I believed to be a Doctor who walked over to the table and began to look at my previous X-rays and the Scans.
From the look on his face you would’ve thought he was viewing pictures of his wife in various acts of lewdness with his best friend! Either that or someone had got their thumb in the way of the lens and ruined the images.
Placing them back onto the table he turned around and walked out of the room without saying a word.

The Radiologist who had performed the CT scan came out of her room and told me I could get dressed.
I asked her if there was anything for me to see or could she tell me anything about the Scans. She said they were not ready yet.
‘But surely they were mine out there on the table?’
‘No, they are not yours’
Perhaps they were pictures of the Doctors’ wife, or were they hiding something?

I got dressed and went home.

The weekend I stripped more paper from the living room walls.

Friday 28 February 2006

07.20am And the waiting room in the pathology lab was full, mainly with people who did not have to return to work. It’s like old people and shopping: why do they leave it until the weekend when those of us that work do our shopping, why can’t they do it during the week?
I got the nicest looking nurse to draw my blood, she was very chatty and pleased I had not come yesterday, they were so busy then they had people queuing out of the door,[not a shopping trolley in sight]
It was not until Friday that I was able to return to the hospital for the ECG and Respiratory tests prior to the CAT scan appointment.

Monday 27 February 2006

I was on a three-day training course at work and had to leave during the morning session of the first day to attend the appointment at the Hospital. I arrived in plenty of time, not knowing what the rest of the morning had in store form me.
I had gone prepared. A book to read and music on the MP3 player I had purchased over a year ago and had never used until now.

Reception ‘A’ – I gave my name and sat waiting to see the Doctor.
I did not have to wait long.
‘Come this way please – take a seat’, another waiting room.
The wait here was even shorter. The Doctor asked me why I thought I had been sent for. I explained about the shadow on the X-Ray, which was hanging in the light box above his desk. We talked of my previous medical History, he had never heard of MFH, the previous Cancer I had treated in 1992. I made a mental note to look it up on the internet – I thought I’d had Osteosarcoma so I need to know too.
I stripped in another room, was examined and duly sent for another X-Ray.

The wait in X-Ray was a little longer but not too bad as I had my book and music.
Back to the Doctor with X-Ray in hand I waited to be seen again.

Now both X-Rays were hanging from the light box; both showing the iniquitous, identical shadow. It had not got any bigger, but then again it had not diminished either.
Was I losing weight? I was asked. I had been trying to lose a few pounds, successfully until now, but decided once I was out of here I would try to see if I could put some back on.

It was explained I needed some blood tests, here was the form; an ECG, here was the form and a respiratory test, again with the relevant form. And by-the-way, you will have to have an Endoscopy, but not today the Nurse will tell you all about it.
I waited in the corridor for the Nurse wanting her to tell me the Endoscopy would not be as bad as I feared.

The Nurse kindly bought me up to speed: The routine checks could be done today but the Endoscopy would need an appointment.
I may or may not remember anything after the procedure, I will be sedated but conscious; a needle will be inserted into my throat that will make me cough; a camera will be passed up my nose and down into the area of the lungs, Nice!

Oh, and you will need a CT [Computed Tomography] scan, this Friday 14.30.

I decided to get the blood test done tomorrow morning when it would be less busy, but left the other two for another day; my reappointment at the hospital had been set for March 20th so all the results should be in by then.
I returned to work.

Friday 24 February 2006

Doctor #1 ‘Hello, how are you?’’
‘[Lying] Fine thank you – I have come about the X-Ray results and to ask about my appointment at the Hospital on Monday next week.’

‘Ah, yes let me just check your files on PC. Mmm, you saw me, then Doctor #2 who sent you for an X-Ray’
‘Yep’

‘The X-Ray shows a shadow on your lung that will require further investigation’’
‘What could it be?’
‘It could be anything, too early to say, the Hospital will follow it up’

‘Have they made a note of my past Medical History with regards to Cancer?’
‘Mmm, its not on the PC records, we transferred most of the recent stuff onto the electronic files but we have been unable to capture them all. I will get your files and give you copies of the letters from the Hospital where you had your previous treatment. Testicular wasn’t it?’
‘No, bone tumour’
‘Ah, yes that’s right, remove part of the Ulna didn’t they, I remember now, most uncommon’


Stripped the front room of wallpaper over the weekend, no time like the present.

Thursday 23 February 2006

‘Hello, surgery’’
‘Hello, I am phoning to enquire as to whether my results have come back from the Hospital’
‘Hold on a moment…’

‘Hello, I am new to this, I don’t seem to be able to find anything, I will ask someone else, Hold on a moment…’’

Different woman ‘Hello, are you phoning about the letter I sent you?’’
‘No, what letter?’’
‘Ah, well there is one in the post, you have an appointment at the Hospital on Monday 27th’’
‘Can I come in and see the Doctor to discuss this?’
‘Yes, it will be the original doctor#1; doctor#2 is on holiday, tomorrow afternoon OK?’

At this point I must mention the fact that under normal circumstances it is extremely difficult to get to see a Doctor at a moment’s notice, so you begin to realise that all is not well. I have been here before, having had bone cancer in 1992 and subsequent treatment and annual check-ups until 2004 when I was eventually signed-off and given the all-clear.
Unfortunately, it is about this time that my ex wife has been diagnosed with skin cancer and is going through remedial treatment herself. I would’ve let her in on my current situation as it will impact upon our two teenage daughters if it becomes anything other than routine.
I can only offer her my support as she would hers.
I vow to keep my partner involved throughout the process, and since I have given her permission to open all my post as it arrives there will be no hiding much from her anyway.

Wednesday 15 February 2006

Doctor #2 ‘H,H,Hello, how are you?’’
‘Fine thank you [Sick] – I have come about some more anti-biotics’

Dr ‘Do you smoke?’
‘Cigars’

Dr ‘How many?’
‘6 ish a day’

Dr ‘Isn’t it time you gave them up?’
‘Yes, I have quit cigarettes but I will try [Unfortunately the help I received from the surgery to quit is not longer available]’

Dr ‘I am sending you for an X-Ray’
‘Why?’

Dr ‘Well you are not getting any younger and 3 months is a long time to have a cough. Come back in three weeks when the results should be in’

Three weeks, no need to panic then.

Later that day – Hospital X-Ray dept
Radiographer ‘Thank you, your results will be available in one week’

PANIC

Monday 13 February 2006

‘Hello, surgery’’
‘Hello, I phoned on Friday requesting a repeat prescription?’
‘Hold on a moment…’’
‘Hello, yes, your Doctor is on holiday, I have asked another GP and he says he would like to see you, this Wednesday OK?’’

Friday 10 February 2006

‘Hello, surgery’’
‘Hi, can I have a repeat prescription for anti-biotics?’
‘Call back later today I will ask the Doctor’’

Later that day
‘Hello, surgery’’
‘Hi, I phoned earlier for a repeat prescription?’
‘Hold on a moment…

‘No, there is nothing here, can you phone back on Monday, say 12.30ish, I will ask the Doctor’

February 2006

The fix has worn off; cough, cough.
I phone the surgery and ask for a repeat prescription, as it is only for a cold it should not be a problem.

January 2006

Had a routine check-up at the ‘well man’ clinic with the Nurse; height, weight, blood pressure, all OK.

The chesty cough is returning and so is my Mothers insistence that I see the Doctor; I am 46 years of age for Christ’s sake mother, I will decide when it is time to see the GP.

I made an appointment.

A quick listen to the chest from Doctor #1and the resulting anti-biotics do the trick as the cough abates.

December 2005

– Early in the month it began with the usual seasonal cold. I desperately wanted to be rid of it before the festivities, having suffered from a bout the previous year.
After several packets of Beechams strongest tablets, bottles of cough elixir and the likes it slowly abated.
On the Friday before I was due to break up from work for the Christmas holidays it was back again.

Christmas was brilliant. We had our extended family around us, a house with four daughters between us, the eldest 18 yrs, 17 yrs, 15 yrs and finally the newest edition, 8months!
The front room was teaming with presents.

Although I could taste no food whatsoever it was a wonderful time knowing this would probably be the one and only Christmas we would all be together as my two girls would be at their Mothers next year for the holidays and who knows where the eldest two would want to be the years after that!

My own mother had several times told me I should go the Doctors for my cold. How many times have we been instructed not to waste the GPs time with trivial colds I explained? I continued with the home remedies, freshly squeezed lemon juice and sugar mixed with hot water.

I thought I had finally shrugged it off upon my return to work, still coughing a little.
Our office, a very old building that has been ‘modernised’ – which basically means it has had a new lowered ceiling and lighting added. There is no real ventilation to talk about and the air conditioning units are useless as the hoses need feeding out an open window whenever they are put to use, which in turn becomes to draughty for the whingers at the top of the office. Add to this the numerous PC stations, we all have at least one PC, others have two; the heat they generate must contribute to Global warming.

I am, unsurprisingly, not the only one with flu like symptoms given the poor air quality of the office environment.

So it begins, again

I have been keeping a diary of sorts for about a month now; I have been collating the order of events thus far. If this diary, of a journey to who-knows-where, helps others then all well and good, if not, then it is certainly helping me...

enjoy!