The Rat Packer

I bounced back from the awful side effects of the new drug. But this episode caused psychological damage, I DREADED the next round. What if this was my summer? Flipping heck. Once I felt stronger, Steve had to go to Newcastle for a few days. His Mum was very poorly and he wanted to be near his Dad for support, although all I seemed to hear when I called was Steve and Phil out on the tiles! Still it must have worked some magic as Joan slowly recovered enough strength to escape the hospice and get home! She is one tough lady!
My next chemo week rolled around faster than I liked. On the Monday I had a face to face appointment at Barts with an oncologist I had never met before. I have to speak with an oncologist before every chemo round. She brought me into her office and then read from her notes on the screen. “It looks like you had a tough time with the new regime? How are you feeling now?” We discussed the side effects I had encountered and how I had responded to the rescue medication. Then I told her I was dreading the next round. She was so understanding, She explained that they were going to be giving me drugs this time to stop the side effects from occurring. Steroids, anti-histamines, anti-inflammatories, anti-sickness, anti-Maureen. Just checking you were awake! I had so many drugs that I needed to set alarms on my phone to remind me to take the right ones. I was like some old girl in the home “What time is it? Has the alarm gone yet? Was it one blue one or two red ones at 7pm?” Shoot me now. 🤦🏼‍♀️
The oncologist also talked about the operation. This is the first time it has been mentioned since the initial appointments. I felt intrigued but scared. This was becoming real. She examined me to see if the lump had shrunk. I could tell her that! Yes! Yes it had! Noticeably so. It no longer jutted out of my breast into my armpit like a Richmond sausage! She told me my surgeon would be Mr Dhooma… I have no idea how this is spelt and have had crack investigators (my sisters) on the case too! Is he like Dr Who and travels here when called? It’s too much to hope for Dr McDreamy I suppose? But this now set my brain on to a new path. Mastectomy scars. I remember back at the beginning of this nightmare, my sister saying “Whatever you do don’t go on the moors.” No hold on she didn’t say that. “Whatever you do don’t google.”
Oops! Oh my giddy aunt. Do not google mastectomy scars if you are about to eat your dinner. I hid away from the family with my iPad, a clandestine peep show of butchered torso’s played out in front of me. Leaving me with visions of me being hacked by a mad man in a bloody apron…. Welcome to my brain at the moment. Wipe your feet when you leave. By the way, do you know why Surgeons are called Mr and not Dr? Well many years ago (thank God) Dr’s would treat patients, but when it came to operations they called butchers in to open the patient up for the best access to the internal area. Thus the surgeon became known as Mr as time went on. You are welcome.

I have continued to work through out and have been attempting to close the business in time for the operation in September. My customers have been so supportive, many taking the COVID rapid test before our lessons, all wearing masks and some even texting me the day before telling me they want me to cancel if I feel poorly… I have been blessed with these wonderful people in my life at this stage. I’ll miss all of them. But they must all go through their tests and fly the BMW nest! I was very touched by one customers very kind review on my Facebook page and knew I had done the right thing working through this crappy time in my life. I’ll remember them not this cancer shit. Saying that these damn chemo-week appointments play havoc with my lesson plans. Wednesday saw me racing from a lesson to my blood test appointment. I was already running late but then I got to the hospital and spent 20 minutes trying to find a parking spot! By the time I fell through the blood test doors I was almost 40 minutes late. Anyone that knows me, knows this is my private hell! I was sweating, flustered and worried sick this would impact on my chemo on Friday. As I staggered in an elderly lady followed me in, the unit was completely empty. I turned and looked at her. “Mary Celeste!” She laughed and we walked round to the blood test bays calling a horror movie esk ‘Helloooo?’ A nurse burst out of the plastic curtain covering the doorway! The elderly lady and I both jumped and started laughing! I explained my dilemma and she said “oh don’t worry about that we will always squeeze you in! Go and register as a walk-in now and we will call you through.” That simple 🙄 the elderly lady followed me back to an iPad stuck to the wall. I registered and stepped aside, she said in a proper cockney accent “Ere love do me a favour, I can’t be doing with these new fangled things! Could you register me please?” “Of course” I said. “What’s your name?” “Margaret Parker” she said, I was very distracted as I typed, I was still trying to calm down, I was worried they would call me whilst I was in the middle of this! I did notice that as my fingers touched some of the letters they didn’t always leap up but thought it would be fine. Registration for Margaret complete we took our seats. I was called almost instantly. As I sat with my arm bared, fist clenched, face turned, I heard another nurse call out “Rat Packer” the nurse stabbing me burst out laughing as did I and then I heard a cockney voice calling out “Silly cow couldn’t use that bloody thing either!” A good deed never goes unpunished!

Thursday I received a call from Barts (because they missed me?) the guy said “you have to come for an urgent echocardiogram tomorrow.” I said “Oh I can’t I have chemo tomorrow!” (Damn!) He said “is chemo here?” “ Yes! At 10:30.” “Ok then, that’s fine, you can come after at 3:40!” Me slumped, “ok, fine.” (Damn) Thursday night I hardly slept, knowing that tomorrow I was going to be entering that strange week of zombiefication, feeling unwell and disconnected from everything around me. Sleep did not come until the early hours and was filled with disturbed dreams. I woke feeling worse than before I went to bed.
Yet Friday arrived like an unwanted guest, you have to be polite but you drop subtle hints for them to sod off. I arrived promptly at Barts floor 7 and attempted my nonchalant saunter to the receptionist, “Gill here for my spa day” her eyes didn’t even flick in my direction, she just continued to scan the computer screen. I’m not sure why but I instantly knew something was wrong. She looked up at me for the first time and simply said “Your appointment has been cancelled.” I mumbled “WTF? (Then out loud) What?” She flicked her eyes back to the screen, “Your appointment was cancelled as you have not had an echocardiogram.” Eyes flicking back to me. My mouth fell open like a fish. “Are you kidding me? You guys called me yesterday and arranged it for today after chemo!” She didn’t even bother looking at me this time “I’ve requested a nurse come speak to you, please take a seat.” I looked around for a chair, to throw through the receptionist’s window. But sat down on it instead. I was furious! My whole week has been spent racing round to these appointments and now because of the scheduling error AGAIN, I was being punished! A male nurse called me out of the waiting room and apologetically explained the echocardiogram should have been done before I was allowed to have chemo. I was aware this poor nurse did not do this, but I needed to shout at someone, he got it. “What the hell is going on in this hospital that you are able to muck up every chemo appointment in some where or another ? I have spent my week……… blah blah blah” of course my rant was as useless as my spa day joke. Why do I bother? So I went down to the echocardiogram department and begged for an earlier appointment. They were very understanding and squeezed me in. I had to lie on my side as the radiologist used an ultrasound wand to roll cold jelly over my chest. I can honestly say I have very little in the way of untried fetishes left. Thankfully the scan showed my heart is undamaged by the current chemo drugs. Yay!

They had moved my chemo to Saturday afternoon. I woke early on Saturday feeling anxious and unsettled. Another poor nights sleep was really not a great way to go into this. Jess has gymnastics on a Saturday morning, I usually drive her and Woody round and take the dog for a good walk to clear my head. The only down side of this is that the dog gets soaked and filthy and ruins my car, leaving me to have to clean it. But I have found that I am not able to walk the 15 minute route, then walk the dog for an hour and then the 15 minute route back again. I’m too tired for all that! So I came up with a new plan! Woody could pull me on my bike! Now this is not without jeopardy, Woody is at times a clumsy pillock, when he was a pup at training classes, we were waiting our turn for the ‘recall’ lesson. As the other owners excitedly called their bundles of fun, Woody became increasingly agitated. I hunkered down onto my haunches to calm him and he, being a clumsy pillock attempted to jump onto my lap pushing me backwards. What I was unaware of until this point, was that I had stopped with my back to the cellar door which was unlocked, so as Woody jumped on my lap we both fell backwards through the doorway and down the flight of stairs, Woody riding on my lap with his great tongue lolling out, ears flapping. As we landed in a pile on the floor I looked up to see the doorway crowded with the faces of our fellow trainers and their furry trainee’s….. we never returned for the ‘Stop jumping up’ lesson. But he did great with the bike ride! I think he actually loved every second of it! He ran perfectly beside my bike not once veering near the wheel or darting across the street for a cat! This is now our new ‘normal’!
I felt in a better place as I boarded the tube heading for St Paul’s later that day. The chemo unit on a Saturday is much more relaxed, the patients and staff seem to have a weekend vibe! The sandwich lady was laughing and throwing sandwiches and yogurts around like confetti! I listened to music supplied by the talented DJ Marf my whole 4 hours and the time flew! I was transported particularly by Stevie Nicks and Bill Withers. The nurse even commented that I had been tapping my foot the whole time! Thanks Marf 😘 I felt good as I left the unit and boarded the tube. England were playing Ukraine that evening in the Quarter finals of the Euro’s. I stopped off to buy supplies and headed home. Within an hour of getting home I felt the effects creeping over me like a shadow. I slumped into the armchair and watched the game like a zombie. No sleep for me for a third night, I mooched around the quiet, dark house as my family slept. Trying to find somewhere my body could relax. The chemo robs you of sleep but leaves you so exhausted you are barely able to speak. I developed the headache and sore throat almost straight away. I don’t suffer any more though so take as many painkillers and soothing agents as possible! Again this was a horrible few days but my family and friends cajoled me through it, visits from best mates and hugs from Steve and the kids when I was unable to move further than the sofa, helped enormously!

And now I’m out the other side! Today I had to go back to Barts (I bought a nice little one bed flat over the road, it was cheaper than the tube and taxi fares.) 🙄 This visit was for the Ultrasound to check the size of the lump. I was a bit nervous about this visit. Please let the chemo have worked! The Radiologist was lovely, she explained what she was looking for, unfortunately the ultrasound wasn’t able to give her a detailed enough picture. I knew what she was going to say before she said it. That bloody mammogram machine is gonna rear it’s ugly head again isn’t it?! So there I was being shunted and shoved all over again. With watering eyes and jelly legs I staggered back into the radiologist’s office and fell into the chair! She used the previous scan pictures to show me the lump then and now! I was gutted to see the tumour looked the same size. But then she explained that they were more interested in the calcification, this was where the new cancer cells were laid down. This had shrunk! The lymph nodes had also returned to almost normal size which was a good sign! “This,” she said in an upbeat voice, “Is good news!” Well about time!

So I’ll be celebrating as Gareth brings it home for more than one reason! C’on England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿