I hate having to say this as a big supporter of the NHS but today has been a wee bit shambolic.
I was booked to come into today to Ward 8 at the Western almost two weeks ago.
To be fair, I was warned that a bed might not be immediately available but I should call first thing to see when I should head in.
I was expecting to get my bone marrow testing and to start my chemo in earnest.
But I’m writing this almost seven hours after being told to come in, sitting in a wee side examination room, having not long been told that we’re too late to do the bone marrow stuff today. I was told a few hours back that the chemo also wouldn’t happen today.
Those who know me will hopefully agree I’m quite a relaxed and laid back sort. Maybe it’s my resilience training?
Truth is I’m still pretty chilled out and when I look around the ward I know there are lots of folk with far greater needs than mine.
And the staff I’ve been in contact with throughout the afternoon have been great, attentive and reassuring.
What gets me though are two things.
First, in retrospect I could probably have stayed at home today with louise and the kids having only had some bloods taken and filled in a pile of forms.
Second, what if I’d been someone highly anxious or scared on their first visit to the chemo ward?
I’ll put this down to a systems glitch (and they did remember to give me dinner even hidden in my wee side room!)
I’m sure things will pick up from here, and I remain highly confident that I’ll get the best possible treatment from the NHS in the weeks and months ahead.
If anything I feel like I’ve let you down, dear readers! Waiting for the gory details of my “apple corer” long needle test!
But like I’ve had to do, you’ll just have to show a little patience and tune in again tomorrow for a medical update ( I hope!).
Meantime I wonder if me and my cannula can nip out of here for a swift pint or two in Stockbridge before anyone notices we’ve gone! 🍺🍺🍺