… about last night. Another dreadful night where I couldn’t drop off to sleep and at 04:00 I was still wide awake. How I hate this. And it’s a long time since I made so many trips down the corridor too in one night, but I didn’t really care about that. If I’m suffering, so should everyone else too.
But I did manage to drop off and go on the odd ramble or two. The first part of my little voyage involved producing a rock concert for one of my heroes – the Welsh rock group “Man”. I decided that their long concert of two and a half hours would be played in two sets, each of an hour, and then a third set of whatever remained. The group seemed to be okay with it, although I did have the impression that they would have agreed to anything that I proposed. I went off to do something and on my way back I noticed that one of the group was busy siphoning some diesel out of the fuel tank of my lorry, which was an old ex-army three-ton truck. I was annoyed about this but I had to remember that for important and valuable clients, you need to be prepared for this kind of thing.
From here, I was back at University and it was the first day back. We were all in a huge group sprawled over a great big bed and other groups of people were dressing up in disguise or in some kind of prop, swarming over the University grounds. One or two were heading our way so I had to warn our people that they were coming. No-one was taking any notice however and this was annoying me (my bad mood seemed to spread all through my rambles during the night) so in the end I lashed the head of the bed with a length of chain. Even so, although this did lead to people beginning to talk, it didn’t have the effect of galvanising them into action and I was quite disappointed, if not totally fed up, of all of this.
First off this morning, I had to give a blood sample and the nurse had an enormous amount of difficulty trying to find any. But then, as you know, she’s not the only one who has had difficulty doing it. And then I had to wait.
And wait
And wait.
And then the blood came round at about 11:15 and we started off the transfusion. I’m to have two pochettes apparently (so this is going to be another all-dayer and we’ll see about whether I’ll be able to leave today).
But the Professor and the Doctor came to see me. The plan seems to be that I can leave after the transfusion, and go to this guest room in town. I need to come back in a week for another blood test, and then again in two weeks time for another go at chemotherapy. If this all works, then I’ll need chemo every month and I might maybe no longer need any blood transfusions. And won’t that cheer me up too!
But I’ve been led up the garden path before, so I’ll believe it when I see it.
However, to my surprise, the transfusion was over by 15:00 and by 15:30, armed with a date for a further appointment and a prescription for the gout from which I seem to be suffering (and which was missed by Montlucon, apparently) I was heaved out into the unsuspecting public.
I picked up a few things from Caliburn, moved him around the car park to make sure that it looks as if he’s in regular use, and then caught the bus into town. Four or five stops away, Sint Pieter’s Hospital is, and that’s where I’ll be staying for two weeks. It’s basic and primitive, but quite clean and reasonable comfortable, and €20:00 per night including breakfast, so you’ll hear no complaints from me.
But check-in isn’t until 17:30 so I left my luggage behind in the office and went for a walk because that was quite clearly a big mistake. I came over all queer after about 15 minutes and had to retrace my steps to the hospital where I crashed out in a chair in the waiting room.
Once I had been admitted to my room (which is, as you might expect, room 13) I crashed out and that was that. The strain is clearly telling on me these days.
