Month: Apr 2018

Forget me not.

The hardest thing I have to cope with day to day, is waiting around to hear from my medical team. I always get itchy feet when I’ve not heard from the hospital for a bit. It’s now a month since my last appointment and 3 weeks since I confirmed to Danny my treatment choice.

3 weeks isn’t very long really, but when this is the biggest thing in your life, and you’re waiting, 3 weeks is bloody ages!

Today I came home to blood test results. Which I don’t even understand (but for the confirmation that YES, I have had chicken pox), but I couldn’t be happier to have them!

The immense relief I feel when this happens, is huge.

YAY! The NHS hasn’t forgotten I exist!

You know what this reminds me of? Boyfriend’s in my early 20s.

I kid you not.

In my 20s, my insecurities coupled with rubbish boyfriend’s, meant that when I wasn’t with them I felt as though I constantly needed to be in touch with them. Knowing what they were doing. Who they were with (yeah I know boys. I was one of “them”). I always got “the fear” when they were on a night out.

I remember one particular boyfriend, who would never commit to when he was seeing me next. I’d be expected to wait around, and wait in to see if today was the day I’d get to see him. Turns out that was because he was too busy planning when he was going to see his other girlfriend, and would just let me fit in wherever suited him.

On reflection that was such a sad existence. I look at 20 something me, and want to give her a hug. Tell her that he’s not worth it anyway. Not that I would have listened.

Anyway – back to the point! Receiving non descript letters from the hospital feels really quite reminiscent of those texts from a guy you’re seeing, at the point that you think he’s forgotten all about you. No, you haven’t the foggiest how to interpret that text he sent, but at least he’s thinking of you!

I’d like to think that I’d at least learned the art of patience from these experiences, but clearly I haven’t!

Today though, I take my mail as confirmation that no, the NHS hasn’t forgotten about me!