Well, maybe the sleep thing did last night. I seemed to have something of a (slightly better) night and when the nurse came to take my blood pressure and temperature at 07:40 I was dead to the world. In fact the sudden shock of waking up completely dislodged every last detail of wherever it was that I was a-wandering, which is a shame.
After breakfast, I had a couple of visits. Firstly, the nurse came in to change the needle in my chemotherapy port. And I know the nurse from my other visits to the hospital – she’s quite efficient and she didn’t hurt me half as much as any of the others have done. And that’s something, I suppose.
And then I had the doctor, and she brought me some more depressing news (if that could be possible). Firstly, the biopsy on my kidneys is postponed until tomorrow and I don’t like that idea – I just wish that they would get it over and done with.
But secondly, she told me that they have now officially decided that chemotherapy isn’t working as it is supposed to. Like me, they were expecting to see something positive in the way of results by now and they are a little bewildered. As a result, they are going to take another sample of bone marrow on Thursday – and how I will detest that (I can still feel the last lot) and see whether that will give them a further clue. But this isn’t the news that I was hoping to hear – not in the least – and I’m starting to become a little concerned.
The third visit that I had, after lunch, was only guaranteed to increase my apprehension. It was the surgeon who is going to work on me tomorrow. He wanted to tell me – in great detail too, about what he is going to do to me, and I almost had to sit on his head to stop him. I’m useless in hospital and I don’t want to be hearing about things like this. It just drives me into a cold sweat and then I spend all night worrying about it and that’s horrible.
Other news is that my room-mate has been discharged. This could be good news (I might end up on my own for a while and I’m much better on my own as I’m sure that you know) and it could be bad news, because my previous companion was quite good, quiet and didn’t snore. I’m not sure that I’ll find another one so companionable. I bet that it’s unlikely.
And so apart from that, I’ve been chatting to Liz on the internet and doing some work updating my blog and not very much else. As I have said before, it’s very hard for me to summon up the enthusiasm right now.
But we’ll see what tomorrow brings. I’m not looking forward to it, or for the following day either. And the results will be even worse, I reckon. But I must stop thinking like this. Focus on the positives – I mean, I haven’t spent a single cent in over a week and that’s surely something to celebrate.
Eric, Lily and I are praying for you right now. I just had no idea that you were so unwell and I don’t know anything about the history of it but I do hope that you recover and get well. So sorry I have not been in touch. Am devastated at hearing about your illness. Love and best wishes from Donald and Lily.
Hey Guy ! you won’t give up, not now! I have been reading your blog in progress for quite a while now, though we never met. The first time I came here was when I looked for something English in my area, and I found very awkward the descriptions of some points I used to go to and know when I was some decades younger. I was born in Riom, which is still the real and unique capital of the Auvergne, One shouldn’t listen to the pretentions of Clermont-Ferrand, which has been for centuries altogether a bishop place, a thieves’den and a Michelin devoted crowd. Clermont-ferrand is just a mistake among the Auvergne. But now, the new capital will be Lyon. It’s just as if Wales and Birminghamshire were associated : people so different with nothing in common : no history, not the same ancestral language, not the same traditional housing. Really, this sounds as a kind of colonisation from Lyon (after a rather improductive attempt of colonisation by Paris during the two or three past centuries).
I am now living near Vichy, the old spa resort which used to be an international place. On Sunday, I had a little trip (without any focus) and anyway it was difficult to get out of the car, because the weather was so rainy! So, after I went along the Sioule from Rouzat to the Pont de Menat, I explorated the area of the deserted Montaigut-en-Combraille and post-mining era in Saint-Eloy-les-Mines and Youx. My rambles brought me to Virlet (But unfortunately not to this big centre of yours, known as Les Guys), the Bellaigue Abbey (Last time I’d saw it, it was in the early 70s, I was with my parents and the church and convent buildings were both unoccupied at this time) and Marcillat (where there is a nice wall belfry (well, maybe not the right word but anyway that’s not what you call a steeple). By the time I arrived in Pionsat, the rain was twice as strong, so I didn’t show a hair outside. There were patches of big daisies, and others of cornflowers, forget-me-not and pink little flowers which I can’t remember the name, mixed with white Ornithogallum. The fragrant yellow blossom of brooms reminded me the by-gone springs. Somehow, it cheered me up, as much as I hope they will cheer your mind up too.
Hope you are having a good night, and that you will be ready very soon for a few new adventures, both in the dream world and in the real one.
(Of course I’m French, so please excuse my somewhat untidy English. When I try to speak, it’s just awful! ) Try not to focus on your medical surroundings. The more you would think of it, the less you will feel serene! (I know it’s easy to tell you this, but try to escape the more you can ! And don’t let you get taken aback by whatever doctors say. Of course they need exams and trys, but in the last, you are the one who has to fight! But you’re not alone! You do have friends, and they do want you!
If Britain had taken the Euro, we would never be able to spend a penny any more. We’d just have to Euronate!
Hoping all goes well. I updated my blog too with photos of my bus door. Think you’ll enjoy those.
Thanks everyone for your kind thoughts. They mean a great deal to me.
But as for the door, Rhys, that looks just like old age to me. You can adjust the hinges as you say, but try looking at the hinge pins – see if they are worn. Replacing them might pull the door back up
Cautious optimism. I think I bent the door back into place with a few judicious thumps with my hip. The hinge is one of those that goes the whole length of the door. I think that part of the door saga is done. Next to fit my unlatching gizmo on the front door so I can open it from outside.