This morning, I left my flat at 09:25hrs for my 11:00hrs appointment in the Clinic. The only medical requirement of the day was to receive an injection in my stomach of a medicine called Velcade. It is now the afternoon and at 14:30hrs, I have just walked through my front door. For those of you bad at maths, that is just over five hours of fun, for a single injection in my stomach.
I know that this needs to be done and although I am quite clearly complaining, I am not really complaining. I am just tired and hungry. Do you know how I know I am tired and hungry? Because my face, at this current moment in time, looks like this (it actually looks worse, but I can’t not use the filter):
I know what you are thinking, what could I have possibly have done to fill a whole five hours? Well, see below:
• 09:25-10:20 – Travel (front of the ambulance of course)
• 10:20-10:45 – Excretion and Words With Friends
• 10:45-10:53 – Hobble to the Macmillan Support to say “Hello” and fill up water bottle.
• 10:53-11:00 – Get the lift to the Second Floor and check in.
• 11:00-11:25 – Waiting… Words With Friends, attempt to refill water bottle, write a post about attempting to fill said water bottle and find a nurse and offer to have my bloods taken in Haematology instead because they look busy.
• 11:25-12:00 – Get lift to the Lower Ground Floor, check in and wait, annoy the man sitting next to me, Words With Friends, Chemospondence, and then have my bloods taken.
• 12:00-12:35 – Get lift back to the Second Floor, toilet, correspondence, flirt with the nurses, Words With Friends, speak to Big Sister on the phone, have vitals taken and ask the nurse for my blood results. All fine and dandy.
• 12:35-12:38 – Receive injection.
• 12:38-13:30 – Book return travel and wait. Waiting… Waiting time includes getting Haemo Dad to explain my blood results, Words With Friends, talking to my favourite lady in Macmillan about my weekend and hair loss, correspondence and listening to music.
• 13:30-14:30 – Travel, this time, unfortunately is not in the front of the ambulance.
Jealous? Of course you are.