Monday, 5 October 2009

Waiting for chemo

A postponement

Like a child getting ready to go to the zoo for the first time with all the expectancy you could muster, I thought they’ll be pulling my bed to the oncology ward at about 9:30AM. Alas! No.

We have a postponement for another 3 hours, I was all cleaned up, freshened up and spiced up, it was going to be my first chemo and it had better be as eventful as it should be efficacious, without allowing nasty side effects and what not.

Showing it all without let

So, wait, is the watchword and it offered the opportunity for me to see the doctor about the red eyes and conjunctivitis-like excretions that gum up my eyes in the morning, the itching all over my body and the rash on my ball sac, all seemingly because of my medication.

You suddenly lose all your inhibitions about showing private stuff apart from being afforded the dignity of having the curtains pulled. The doctors generally can prick, poke or prod you anywhere and you only have to answer back with a gasp or a grunt, then the occasional Ah!

Body sculpting with sleep

I am now assured morning naps, definitely something to do with my medication, I have still not visited the gym but I think I will be getting weights to work on in bed, I am still not sure of when I would be leaving hospital.

Did I notice the markings of the six-pack on my abdomen this morning? I made me think of sunny climes for a holiday on the beach with something to show off, even from a hospital bed one should be allowed to dream and dream of vanities.

The loaded in Nigeria, in fact, the one-time Defence Minister was given a therapeutic prescription of two weeks in the French Riviera after a time of slight fatigue – that is a doctor worth seeing.

Neighbours, friends and family

Friends and neighbours have celebrated me to the extent that my cup overflows, those who call from afar to comfort me and pray with me keeping abreast of events and sharing with others that the chain of communication is neither broken nor overwhelmed with repetition.

Though unwilling to laden them back home with this situation, it had come to a point where they had to be told, you cannot be admitted to hospital for two weeks and sweep that under the carpet of secrecy.

My friends close by have been sterling, I have had local fare on both Saturday and Sunday, a completely change from the bland hospital diet. I can only give thanks.

My neighbour has performed beyond neighbourly request, but as I spoke to my friend’s wife yesterday, she highlighted the fact that in times of trouble, emergency or urgency, your next-door neighbour is your first point of call before family or friend arrives.

The need to cultivate neighbourliness in a Western and indifferent world cannot be lost on anyone who finds themselves in my situation, my gratitude knows no bounds and I am yet to express myself well enough in thanks.

The porter is taking me to the oncology ward soon – Sorry, I cannot write that perfectly to the tune of Daddy’s taking us to the zoo tomorrow. A most magnificent bouquet of flowers just arrived from Stockholm, Mwah! Mwah! Thanks (+_+).

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