Surrounded by reality!

Sitting here with seven never-before seen adults around me, I note the absence of conversation but an abundance of eye-catching looks. Words may be absent but communication is clear and mutually understood and agreed.

And the nature of this communication? Simply the realisation that we are all fucked, at least for the moment, by cancer of one type or another. There’s the woman in stomach pain, the guy, old before his years, whose silence indicates little hope, the woman (I think) wearing the scrum cap which is the evidence an already removed brain tumour, the diabetic whose cancer drugs constantly conflict with her condition, the young man the location of whose tumour is known only to him and the medics, and two others who seem so secure and positive in their demeanour that one wonders why they are here.

What of the staff, all nurses? One French, another Irish,  three locals and one of possibly Malaysian heritage.  All aged under thirty by their looks, but who can really tell, they prove to be a proven team of professionals and all with the same positivity and support for each of us. We really are in good hands, or should I say "positive surroundings" as the tone and manner of each professional is exemplary, and they have read my notes! That really was impressive; as I arrived, Clare, for that was her name, was familiar with a detail which might not be relevant for another month, or maybe never.  Really reassuring!

And what of me now, three days after beginning this post, infusion completed, two and a half days of tablets consumed (that's twenty-six in total!), but now, steroids no longer active, I feel just mentally half empty as though my mind is detached from body, not exactly listless but certainly disjointed. Time to end, to post and to sleep.