Cancer 58

While I am doing my best to hold it all together and accept what is coming, there are times, as I think I have noted here before, when it can be quite difficult. This morning was one of those times. I had an appointment to see the consultant to see whether I would be fit for the next session of chemotherapy. I spent the night fretting. I was going to get the results of my CT scan, it was going to show several large tumours which would mean that the treatment was pointless and I should get myself ready to die in the next few weeks. I then realised that, despite my claims otherwise, I am not ready to die. I want to scream against the machinations of death, cling onto life at any cost, I am prepared to go through more operations, with tubes stuck up and down my various holes, lie in hospital in agony, with junior doctors inexpertly poking and prodding, themselves bewildered and bewildering me. I have too many things to do. Me, who claim to have no bucket list, wants to do so many things. I want to write my books, go to places, experience life. I don’t want to die.

I arrived at the hospital very early, as always. I didn’t actually see the consultant, but two of the nurses I have seen before. They asked a few questions about my side effects, none really, just some back and belly ache for which I have painkillers that I usually forget to take (not that painful then?). I am tired, but the backache is worse at night, and I usually have to empty my stoma in the middle of the night. In any case, I have not slept properly for 60 years, so what’s new? Results of my CT scan? Still unknown, though I was previously told that the treatment, whether or not new tumours were appearing, would be the same so in a sense it doesn’t matter. Results from my latest blood test? Normal. I have fully functioning kidneys, liver and so on. Vital statistics? Blood pressure normal, heart rate normal, blood oxygen normal, temperature normal.

The nurse said that he hoped the rest of his patients today would be as easy as he authorised my chemotherapy for next week.

Fretting about nothing. As the Stranglers said, just get a grip on yourself.