|I don’t know what he thought was more weird,
his hat or the fact I was taking his picture from
under the bed clothes?
Once your told, all hell breaks loose, but in a calm methodical way. I know that sounds strange, but things just happen and you find yourself on the medical travellator to getting better.
This time of course, everything’s far too familiar.
Had my CT scan and couldn’t believe I said hello to Noel the radiographer and asked him how his girls were. Oh my god, I know his name and I’m asking about family, what’s next, “Will you be Sienna’s fairy god father?”
Thankfully most of the hospital staff don’t recognise me with hair, so there’s not a lot of those awkward moments of, “Ohhhummm you’re back.”
Today is my liver biopsy, someone mentioned that word “mutate”. They have to make sure I have the same cancer as before in order to start on the right treatment. I don’t know what I’m more horrified about, a different cancer, a liver biopsy or the word mutate. Can’t they use nice words like, the cancer might have “rainbowed” into a different type.
The brave man is allowed to come in with me while I have the biopsy, just looking at his reassuring eyes takes the pain away, that and the brain sedative the doctor gave me.
I know I’m sounding flippant, but it’s called coping mechanism.
Action stations aren’t just limited to medical staff. Faintly I hear the soft beeps of friends texting Gary, “What can I do”, “I’ll get Sienna”, “I’m doing lunches”, “Here’s some new nighties”. (No not for Gary)The troops are coming and I feel good.