Most days, I live with My Myeloma with only mild contempt. There are however days when I hate it. Really hate it.
I hated it yesterday and I am embarrassed by it today.
The Medically Trained People at PCH were unsure whether my symptoms were a result of the chemotherapy or if it is an infection, so, they have given me drugs for both. It took nearly four hours to get to this point. In a normal world, pre cancer, there would have been no need for me to have gone to A&E last night. It’s basically cystitis. I cannot escape the thought that me going was a complete overreaction, BUT I have to remind myself that I was acting on Medically Trained People’s orders. I have said it before, but I’ll say it again so people can fathom the extent of my frustration, My Myeloma makes everything sinister.
The drama would not have been as bad, had I been able to go to UCLH, but I couldn’t because I am staying at my parents. I believed that the Doctor thought I was wasting his time. At least I wasn’t a drunk. I was giving him a bit of variety on a Friday night. I am sure when he made his way back to his little station, he thought I was a time waster who should have just gone to the hospital where I am being treated. The fuss embarrassed me. There isn’t really a way round this, when I feel poorly, I need my Mum to look after me. That is not practical from London. No offence to the Trust that treated me yesterday, but I want to be treated at UCLH, a place where Mamma Jones has no cause to shout at rude receptionists who do not know what neutropenic means. I was however, very thankful to the on call folks who pushed my bloods through as quickly as possible. That was very kind of them and meant that I was home at 01:00hrs.
I guess this is all swings and roundabouts and the worry over something seemingly minor is normal. I just wish that sometimes, I could just have a bug, without the impact of it being a trip to A&E and/or acute paranoia.
The reality of having cancer, can indeed, suck.