Thursday 9th Feb, I get a drive out today, the transport takes me from Walsall Manor and drives the 30minutes to the Qeeun Elizabeth in Birmingham. My first outing in nearly a week.
Kerry gets to meet me there, the nurse with me today is pleasant and jolly, we chat crap about the world, about nursing and about the covid crisis and our worries as nhs staff what will happen. It all helps to relax me from the inevitable news to come.
I’ve not slept properly for about a week now, hospitals are a noisey and boisterous place, alarms, staff and patients snoring create a rather awful fan fair of music to relax by.
We arrive and find our clinic, me and kerry sit together and I cry periodically at what is to come, cry at the memories I’ve had and things I’ve experienced, thankful in one breath and sad in another. Cancer waiting rooms are probably the most depressing waiting room, they come with an palpable air of misery and upset.
Whilst we wait I can hear other conversations, an elderly lady can’t have anymore operations, her tumor is to large and risky, her family comfort her and kerry asks if I want to move away from thus area, I reason what’s the point, the whole place is depressing really, another man sits waiting, his first appointment like me, he looks worried like me.
40 minutes and the meeting is done, I’m explained that I have renal cell carcinoma or kidney cancer, the brain tumor is secondary. It appears to cause no concerns and is simply just on the surface of my brain. The Dr makes this all sound quite benine in nature, no more than a few hours of surgery and it’s all done and dusted.
It seemed odd, quite matter of fact, the brain is complex but the surgery is everyday. Risk are there but as I have said to kerry, I’ve had so many operations in the past that being told I could die is quite common.
We leave feeling a tad more buoyed by the news, I have cancer, I need to own it, fight it and make myself comfortable for the inevitable long journey ahead.