The appointment I've been fretting over arrived today. I have been so weepy and scared about this, not sure why really but it was a fear of the unknown I think.
I was planning to work after the appointment but I learnt that I had to do a scan as well so I when I asked my colleague to look in to my class just in case I was running late, he offered immediately to take the class for me. I felt a huge relief actually. The kindness continues......
A rainy, dull day didn't help, neither did the 20 mins it took us to find a parking space. Neither did the dreadful hospital signage. Neither did the inaudible receptionist behind a thick glass panel who greeted us. Neither did the lack of instruction regarding the admissions procedure. Neither did the 15 minute tour of all the hospital buildings looking for the right place. Neither did the busy nurse who offered to show us the way who then made phone calls, delivered results and spoke to workmen whilst we waited for her. Neither did the room on the right greeting you as you enter the cancer wing full of people in armchairs receiving chemotherapy. Neither did the lack of receptionist nor the nurses who said hello but didn't have time to ask why we were there.
You get the picture we were stressed me and dh. I was ready to leave at this point. I was definitely ready to burst into tears.
I was seen fairly swiftly, however, after finding someone who wasn't too busy to speak.
A pretty, smiling radiologist greeted me and ushered me into a cubicle where she took me, in great detail, what was going to happen today. She answered my questions as if I was the first time she'd heard them, she smiled and she was very very kind and open.
We discussed timing. I had to give her a time slot of a few hours (or one hour the days I was working) and she would then work out suitable appointment times. That day I would pass through a scanner but I would not be injected (big sigh of relief) but I would be tattooed so the machine could be set in the same position each time. I had heard that the tattoos were blue in UK and in US, some are brown in France. Mine are black. They were done just between my breasts and on the side of my left breast and they really bloody hurt! I was promised by Smiling Lady that the result would be smaller than a beauty spot. I was doubtful because medical professionals lie don't they? But in fact she was telling me the truth, I saw the next day that the spot is actually quite hard to find.
Patrice, my oncologist, popped his head round the door and asked me how I was 'stressed' was the answer. He said isn't there a pill for that? Or meditation? I said there were situations that were surpassed even by the sophrologie! He then said 'oh yes it's really going to hurt today, she's going to hurt you bad, she's horrible this one'. The Smiling lady continued to smile and shake her head.
I was scanned and have an appointment to return next week to be placed correctly on the machine - Smiling Lady showed me a photo of the machine, explained what happens during a session down to where I would get undressed, what happens next and so on. I will start radiotherapie next Thursday. 33 sessions, every day apart from weekends, will take me through Christmas and just into 2014.
Breathing a sigh of relief we left the hospital and dh took me out for a lovely tagine. Then because I didn't work I was free to have lunch with dh, which was really lovely after all that stress. Then I went home and slept. Ouf.
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