one of Dad's opals . . . . . . . . . .

6-3-19

I retrieved a dazed looking him from Level 1 and we sat outside in the courtyard to eat lunch. I wanted to hear everything about the PET scan as soon as possible. I wanted every detail. He had a freaky experience which he was rather perplexed about. They put the head brace on, then tied him down, taped his fingers down and laid a heavy blanket thing across his chest and shoulders. He was told not to move and that the scan would take about 25 minutes. Remember they asked him if he was claustrophobic? he had said no. Well he wasn't comfortable at all. At all, at all! "no! get me out! get me out!" . . . he tried once more but nope. Poor him. I felt so sad hearing this. There was a faint tear in his eye, I hugged him. I felt just awful. Welcome to panic attacks. It was good to talk it out right there and then as I have had a lot of experience with anxiety so maybe I helped. He has never felt this way, not ever, he kept saying . . .

When I started writing this I was using his real name. But every time I typed those 6 familiar letters I would well up and sob. So he is now him, he, and his. I am just I. I am using an alias because I didn't want anyone stumbling across it, reading about him and feeling sad that they didn't know about the Private Cancer. I am calling it Private because it is private. But not. People know what is going on but I still feel like we are alone. Not that we lack caring supportive people in our lives, we are fortunate to have loads. It's just that no matter how much we share with others, we are still having to deal with this alone somehow. We drive to and from the hospital by ourselves . . . not that we really want anyone else to come . . . we lay awake at night thinking about it, at least I do, and no-one else can do anything about that. I am writing this alone, that's my choice.
So Private Cancer it is. Strangely.

We attended our first treatment appointment on Monday. Today is Wednesday. "Go to reception and let them know you are here" is the drill. Grace the Oncologist had a chat with us in her office prior to his treatment. Chemo and Radiation today, a long day. Grace was clearly concerned about his mood. She said "you seem quite jumpy?". He didn't really say anything, again I think I saw a tear in his eye, though I could have been mistaken. I have been saying for many months now that his voice has changed and that he is rushing his words as if he is struggling to get them out. I am having difficulty understanding him at times. When he was talking to Grace I patted his leg, looking back it may have been a tad patronising, and I said "slow down a bit darl". My take on this is that he has a very sore throat, is having trouble breathing because of his sleep apnoea, coughs a lot, and speaking probably hurts too? So he tries to get all his words out as quickly as possible . . . . perhaps. Or is he really anxious and wont admit it? Tell me if that's it, I can help you.

We were sent first down to Radiation which is in the Basement. Quite fitting. The nasty machines that zap you are deep down in the bowels of hell. They were confused. His appointment wasn't until Thursday. "Go back up and see the Chemo nurses, they may be able to sort something". He was shown to a big comfy sterile blue Chemo chair next to 10 other comfy sterile blue Chemo chairs. A healthy looking child of 12ish in one, a vague dottery old lady in another, a young hippy man in another . . . . fuck you Private Cancer.

A very important and serious Dr. Grace came and put her hand on my shoulder, they stuffed up his treatment appointment, he can't have the Radiation today as Professor what's his name neglected to communicate with our department, so I'm sorry  . . . . go home, yes you wasted your time, all your anxieties and fears and nerves will have to be repeated over and over and over again, that's how many days before it really starts for you, 3. I'm so sorry. So am I.

The dentist, I forgot to tell you about the dentist. When you have to have Radiation treatment it is advisable to get all of your dental work done prior because afterwards your bones, as in your jaw, might well be a bit weaker if that's the right word? also healing can be an issue if you have to have major stuff done. Having a hole in your tooth that goes down to the nerve is a big issue too as infections can get in. Chemo and Radiation deplete your immune system a lot so infections are a huge issue. Sanitise those hands when you go into a hospital peeps! . . . He hasn't been to the dentist for many years. The last time he went he reckons the dentist was high or something, he said he poked him repeatedly with the needle hurting him so bad that he vowed never to go back again. It was an awfully traumatic experience.
Enter Dentist Neil . . . . You can feel the breeze go by as it gently caresses his hair. The smell of his aftershave is intoxicating. His middle name is Fabio . . . He glides across the floor like an angel, in slow motion, feet not touching the floor . . .  his gentle voice and slender soft delicate deliberate hands put you immediately at ease . . . . hang on, sorry, that was me fantasizing! I never met him, it's all hearsay. He, as in my he, told me Dr. Neil was fantastic, very calm, very gentle, and "it was the best dental appointment I have ever been to!" My man had a man crush . . . Awesome. All done. Filling filled.

Here we are now. Wednesday night. The night before the start. Again. He has been monitoring his water intake. "I appreciate you refilling my water container in the fridge, but I would prefer that you didn't as I am monitoring how much I drink. If you fill it up all the time I don't know how much I have drunk". Doting wife needs to back off. He has to drink loads of water before, during and after his treatment, especially the day before the Chemo day as they want his kidneys to flush the Private Cancer poison out as quickly as possible. Poison in, do your shit, flush it out.

FU PC


 . . . many years ago I was compelled to draw
 . . . I was in a dark place
 . . . I feel like these images are relevant now