What a day, not quite the walk on the beach I hoped. Molly (Jenny’s car) insisted on bringing her to me this morning so I arrived with Jenny and Tim to be told we only have room for 1 visitor and no seats!
The chemo room was full to overflowing with people wired up and sounded earily like a field of crickets from the clicking from the chemo drips. I was put in a upright uncomfortable seat by the radiator and told that’s all we have today as have too many patients in and not enough staff. Then in a voice which could be heard at least 2 floors down, my nurse said “Oh you have a portacath, that’s only for patients who are private!”. Grimace. “But it makes no difference here, you all get the same treatment here or lack of seats”. Ouch, floor opening up yet? “Hopefully we can empty these seats in the next hour” (pointing to reclining seats full of human beings who looked shocked and guilty!) I am not having a go at the nurses who were wonderful, but the wretched system which plays with people’s lives when they are at their lowest ebb. Same old same old, no resources, too many sick people. No one’s really listening though.
One ECG (Fag on predictive text) and Xray later to check why I was still in pain from the so called luxury port, I was finally wired up to go 2 hours late. Luckily I was royally distracted by Jenny who came equiped with a bag of treats and chatted non stop until the drip finally coughed up its last breath 2 hours later.
Apart from red ants running down my back and into my wonder women pants from the steroids and a unnerving experience of my throat closing up and painful tingling in jaw when I tried to eat, I haven’t had too many bad side effects. Although to avoid the dreaded sickness I had to take another dose of steroids at 5 which I am told will keep me bouncing off the walls all night.
Anyone for a rave?