Hi guys,
Been a while eh? As Meg mentioned in the previous post, I have spent the last four days in the Royal Marsden being poked, prodded and moaned at. After what we thought was a routine meeting on Monday, there was a concern about the amount of liquid around the right lung, and so another extended stay was required. I'm sick of bloody hospitals. They're demoralising, depressing and sterile; all the things I don't need at the moment.
Time seems to stand still in there, and the lack of communication between departments is a constant issue. I was sat in a ward next to an old man (82) who cried constantly, and told anyone who would listen about how all he wanted to do was to make it to his grandsons 18th birthday in four years time.
It's really difficult; on one hand you want to comfort someone like that, as they're obviously struggling with the bad news, but 82 is pretty good going, and unless you have a positive attitude, how can you expect to beat this bloody thing?
I'm not going to moan anymore. I'm still having issues with deep breaths, but I'm getting married tomorrow and I couldn't give a flying toss about owt else. Granted. I'm unable to drink, lie down or have sex in any degree of comfort, but at least there'll be cake.
