Yesterday was Thursday and my clinic, so back to the Hammersmith
I went. With my lovely army friend who
thankfully has returned once again from the lands of death with all his limbs
intact.
Check-up was fine – haven’t put on any weight, thank fuck,
because let’s face it, that is probably my biggest concern. And yes I know that probably isn’t very
healthy etc etc etc blah blah blah, BUT I think it’s probably a better thing to
worry about than if the cancer gets worse or my bone marrow kicks in again or
the million and one things I could worry about.
As it seems to be the trend over the last few check-ups the
nurse calls me for my bloods who completely destroyed me in July so I don’t let
her touch me. And funnily enough, she
remembers that I won’t let her do my bloods.
The clinic was pretty busy yesterday and when she called me I went and
as I got on the scales I asked for someone else to do my bloods. She said that it was ok today, but as I could see the clinic is very
busy as two other hospitals have merged with the Hammersmith so I can’t always
chose who does my bloods. She also made
it sound like they had merged that day, it had in fact happened last year. Basically I was being a difficult
patient. The nurse who was doing my
bloods said not to worry as I apologised and explained that I am very nervous
of the other one touching me as she really damaged me before. I had bruises for 3 weeks after the other
nurse attempted to do my bloods and for that day I couldn’t have my hand below
my waist and my hand hurt so much where she had inserted the needle for attempt
number two….anyway. The point if this is
that she is NEVER going to do my bloods again, and I have the right as a
patient to request this and she can fuck off.
I did have some bad news.
My amazing and lovely and hilarious consultant is moving to America. FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE
IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He said I could
carry on seeing him so I asked him to pay for my flights. Funnily enough he said no. He has referred me on to another consultant
and he said, I shit you not, ‘they are a much better doctor than me. If I had CML I would want them as my
consultant.’ So we shall see….I’m back
in February. I did ask him if the new
one has the same approach as he does and he said that they should. He also told me that in France people who get
taken off the drugs do have slight fluctuations but as long as it says below
0.01% (or 0.1% can't remember now) they are left off treatment, so maybe that is something that my new
consultant will be open to…. He also
said that ideally he would like me to stay on treatment for another 9 months to
really stabilise things, so we shall see.
I feel positive about this but a bit upset that he is leaving as I finally
feel like I’m actually being listened to.
Nothing much new to write about this time, feeling quite
tired today, and have so much work to do.
Fun. Oh, I was going to rant about movember and for some reason it’s
really pissing me off this year. I’m not
sure why. Maybe I’m just allowing more
feelings and being more honest about them.
I know it’s important that people are aware of the various types of
cancer and that people (men) talk about them and go to the doctor and get
checked out. But, asking for money for
growing a tash. Really??
REALLY?????? Go and do something a
little bit more impressive than something you have the innate ability to do
so. Run a marathon or climb a mountain
or something. Maybe it’s just because I’m
really fucked off that I live with a chronic disease that has a monumental
impact on my life and there is no visible sign of it. I was on the tube and
exhausted and really needed to sit down but didn’t say anything because I have
nothing to show to prove it and no one offered me their seat because I am a ‘healthy
young(ish) woman’ not pregnant or have a walking stick etc. And then on the flip side, of course I am
pleased that this is the case. It’s very
difficult and I’m just a bit fed up at the moment. And on that note, need to eat and think about
bed as I have had to cancel on a friend again because I can’t be arsed to go
out because I am, for a change, knackered.
XXX