Now, because I started this only this year, despite all the waffle I've laid down, you don't necessarily know a huge amount about me.. Today is a flash back moment for you
In September 1999 I was diagnosed with leukaemia. I was in remission by about October (despite being given slim chances of survival, and lots of rot in that direction), anyway, to make sure I was well they did 3 more lots of chemo, the first lot despite removing the problem didn't actually make me that ill, I didn't lose my hair, etc, but the next 3 made me very ill and bald as a coot.
January 2000 (yeah I was in hospital Christmas and new years.. Oh joy, those are whole nightmares of their own) I was given the last batch, but it was April before I got out!!
After that there were daily, then weekly, then monthly, etc through to finally, yearly, checkups.. Where some nurse would take some blood (I'm needle phobic) and then someone Id never met before would tell me I was fine and book my next appointment.
It sounds so simple doesn't it
Well, its not. You see, I had had none of the warning signs for leukaemia, so I couldn't have known it was coming, so each time they test me, if they didn't like the results the idea would be, they would keep me in, treatment can be as long as 2 years.. Imagine going for a quick stabbing (my term for blood test) and not knowing if you'll see your house and stuff for 2 years.. Maybe even never.. Or, within a few rather long and dull hours you'll be walking out just wishing that they didn't waste those hours of your life.
Over the last couple of months, without official diagnosis mainly because so many doctors in general don't give a monkeys hide, most people I know would classify me as clinically depressed, not just "a bit down" but really fundamentally miserable, work is sucking to a level where a black hole would be jealous. Personal life, such as it is, is also somewhere near an all time low.. Along with those monthly girly things, and a stabbing?? I really can see why people might do it you know?? But I'm a coward it would hurt, that and, my self confidence is also 0, and says, Id stuff it up.
You might now be puzzled as to why this post is entitled "Hurrah"
good :P
so, its 2006, I've been healthy for 6 years now, and a bit, having sat for around 2 hours and the will to live slowly ebbing away as it does when you wait for things like that staring at all the really ill people wishing they'd deal with them and leave you alone.. Finally, it was my turn.
I went to be stabbed, I warned the poor woman (who looked like 200 years old) I wasn't good with needles and once it was in, it would be fine.. Just like do it quick before I run..
So, good on her, she did get it in quick and it didn't hurt (too much)
she put the test-tube on the end, and wouldn't you know just as the blood first squirts in (and usually hits the end of the tube).. It makes a run for it.. Yes, an inanimate test tube pegged it across the room like a torpedo.. I'm beginning to panic now thinking maybe my blood pressure is so high I can do that to it they'll keep me.
Thankfully the second tube didn't do it, and sufficient blood was taken, bandaid applied to the hole and I'm sent, back out to wait.. Like waiting for death.. (it really feels like it, I'm sorry)
Finally, much nearer 3 than the original 12.45 appointment ever should have been, I get the summons to the drs room.
how are you, any issues, blah blah blah..
for the first time in certainly 5, possibly most of 6 my husband had come with.. And for the next bit, I am so glad he was there..
the guy opened his mouth and said, "its been 5 years" .. (5 years is a big thing with cancer).. I grabbed my poor hubby's arm, I swear he'll have bruises to show for it.. "You don't have to come any more if you don't want to"..
Now, half of you wants to open your channel tunnel sized mouth and say "I hate ****ing coming here, I've sworn more times than I can remember Id rather die than go through treatment again, of course I don't want to ****ing come again you muppet" .. But you don't.. They seem to be so unaware of how demoralizing it is to come with this hanging over your head.
I thanked him and told him how happy I am in a good way not that they weren't nice enough people that I wouldn't have to see them again.
My husband would never have believed me if Id come home and said "Hey, they never need to see me again".. He knows how much I hate it, (that's why he was there) but he'd have thought I was faking to never go.
the consultant briefly reminisced as he knew my consultant from when I was treated in London, and I recanted a story that made him smile..
and finally, today, only a few weeks before my birthday.
I got to leave the clinic, free, never having to return.. I am to all intense purposes..
Cured.