OK, am telling tales out of school - but this was my Wednesday.
Rang Chemo Nurse to ask her why I'm short of breath. She told me I should get myself checked out immediately, go straight to A&E, do not pass go, do not collect £200.
Rang Bloke who is at work in Windsor. Explained had to go to A&E (memories of night spent in hospital back in March), started crying. Bloke asked if I was yawning or crying. Explained crying. He asked why. Explained am scared, have cancer.
Considered asking Bloke to come home and take me to A&E but pride kicked in and decided against. Bloke advised was going into meeting, would leave phone with his secretary and I could call her if necessary.
Felt rush of love for kind, considerate, concerned £$%&. I mean husband.
Walked up to bank to get cash (took Puppy #2 for company as figured if I collapsed am less likely to be kicked into the gutter with cute Alsatian at my side), arrived home to non-English speaking cleaner who's limited vocab extends to 'how are you' and a lot of smiling. Smiled a lot in return and said 'am fine are you?'. Started trying to work out which A&E to go to, how to get there taking into account limited parking, tube strike, incomprehensible bus routes and lack of taxis (due to aforementioned tube strike). After trying a variety of cab companies, lovely man at Chiswick Cars agreed to send car immediately. Burst into tears at kindness of strangers.
Dog weed in study. Breathless, ran up and down stairs with mop and pee-filled then water-filled bucket, knowing that in current state I should leave pee clearing to cleaner.
Cab arrived. Whilst en-route took phone call from Consultant Surgeon in Bath who said 'Just to say its probably not worth you coming today as I've not got the plates back yet.' Explained I had no idea I was expected, am in London on way to A&E as am breathless and reason you don't have plates is I haven't had MRI yet.' That's lucky then replied Consultant Surgeon. Only hope his ability with knife is superior to his admin/interpersonal skills.
Arrived at Charing Cross A&E delighted that only two other people waiting. Electronic sign said waiting time 2 hours. Didn't believe sign as am born optimist. Took out book to read whilst waiting.
After 30 minutes was called into room with nurse who took blood pressure and put me into another, smaller but packed waiting room. I began to see where the two hours came in. Continued to read book. Further nurse arrived who instantly realised by my ethnic origin that I was 'Joooleeee' (am always known by first name with officialdom). She also took blood pressure and temperature.
Doctor arrived and took me to a bed in A&E. Took 3 vials of blood. Sat on bed in wonder at other patients, all of whom accompanied by partner/friend/work colleague. Read book. Doctor returned and took more blood. It hurt. I continued to be breathless. Hours passed. Nurse arrived, wasn't sure who she was looking for but asked if I was waiting for chest x-ray. Had almost finished reading book so said yes for change of scenery.
Had chest x-ray. Returned to Cubicle T7. Read book.
Nurse returned shouting 'Jooooleeeeee Joooooleeeeee! You Jooooleeeee? Come with me.' I did, we did a walking bus and collected a number of other bewildered walking wounded on way, some of whom on crutches got lost somewhere near x-ray dept.
Nurse deposited me in bed in 'Emergency Short Stay Ward'. Sat and read book. Another nurse arrived and asked what I would like for dinner. Optimistically told her would not be here for dinner. She advised I would be 'these things take a long time honey.'
Finished reading book. Realised was now almost time to collect Puppy #1, who I'd dropped off at vets that morning for x-ray on her back leg.
Illegally switched on phone. Message from vet advising pooch has tendonitis, please collect. Message expressing concern from husband stuck somewhere in Vodafone network, undelivered.
Texted Bloke advising am unable to collect pooch. Please do so.
He texted back 'Sorry don't understand, can we talk?'.
Advised was in hospital, unable to collect pooch. Please do so.
He texted back 'OK sorry. Call me when you can. Hope its going OK'
Advised was in hospital, can't make phone call. Please can he collect the dog?
He texted back 'Let me know ASAP. You OK?'
Advised was in fucking hospital, what part of stoopid was he?
He texted back 'Have arranged to collect dog at 5pm.'
Suggested he might like to drop in and see me on way past.
He texted back 'Am on way, where are you exactly?'
Advised 'am in exactly same place I told you I'd be this morning and have been here for last five hours'
He texted back 'Have called your Oncologist who thinks hospital taking precautionary measures. Am coming anyway.'
Cut to evening...
Bloke sits humouring me by watching Steel Magnolias (story of Shelby/Julia Roberts who dies whilst young and beautiful...). During funeral scene, hear choked sob from other end of trendy new sofa. Take husband's foot gently in hand and ask him if he's OK. He nods with tears flowing down his face. Ask him if he's thinking what would happen if I kark it? He replies no, is thinking of his father.
