I am a creature of habit and routine. I like things to be a certain way for me to be comfortable. My Myeloma makes me have to have a routine, at first, I fought against it, but now, I am embrace. Any changes to my routine, cause havoc, not that anybody would no, because the havoc stays in my brain. It is still havoc though.
Today is a Friday, which means it is a Treatment Day, which in turn means that the routine and habit is more important than usual.
First things first, I arrived at the clinic late, as usual. Despite being late, I still stopped to buy a cup of tea as usual, from the very friendly man who likes to talk about drag queens, before going downstairs to get my bloods done. There, I have the same conversation with the technician, pleased today, that it was my second favourite blood taking person doing it. I would have been ecstatic if it was my favourite man. Once that was done, I made my way up to the second floor, just 30 minutes after my appointment time, to discover that all four of the big red chairs were taken. Tits.
There is only one place I like to sit when I have treatment and that is in one of the four chairs by the Garden Lift. If I sit anywhere else, I am slumming it. Today I had to slum it. I didn’t take it lying down, oh no, I decided that the best thing to do was to find myself a seat and place it directly opposite the four incredibly selfish people having their treatment in the big red chairs and stare them out. When I say stare, there was venom behind my eyes and evil in my mind. I definitely was not a fan of their collective outfits Yeah, I am passive aggressive. I think we just need to deal with it. Sure, they clearly have cancer, two of them were asleep and the other two were hooked up to cannulas, but I deserve one of those seats more than they do. I deserve it because I always sit in them. And I am me.
I am sure my love of those chairs was stronger than theirs. That fact in itself means I have a stronger claim over them then they do. The chairs offer so many options. I can either put my feet up on the accompanying foot stool, or because the chairs are so large, I can curl up or sit on my feet. It’s like sitting on clouds. I too have been known to nap in them. My coat will be resting on the right hand side of it and I will hug one of the three pillows that live on there. These seats also come fully equipped with a power socket, which is always helpful in this digital age. I noted that none of the old, apparently ill people, were using the power sockets today. Selfish. They didn’t even look happy to be sitting on the best seats to have ever been invented. I’ll admit there may have been times where I did not look particularly happy sitting on one of those chairs, but that is not the point. The point is that it is okay for me to not look happy. It is not okay for others to mope around when they are sitting on paradise. Instead of sitting in a sheltered haven, I was in the green house part of the second floor, where the sunlight made my iPad look dirty and my armpits moist.
I fear that this has not set me up for the day. The break from my routine is made me uneasy. Damn them.
I deserve what ever I want. I am special. And for goodness sake, I just wanted my big red chair.
Next week, I am marking my territory. Just you watch me.
I just do not understand how people can be so selfish. I guess that is what happens in the 21st century.