Waiting

I want to show you that it's not as terrifying as you might think to be diagnosed with cancer and given radiotherapy. So far, then, my writing has been fairly upbeat and, indeed, most of the time, that's how I feel; cheerful, not worried, relieved to be getting treatment after a year of knowing that there was something very wrong, but having to wait for test results...

Sometimes, however, my mood isn't quite so relaxed. I've mentioned that I find all the waiting hard to cope with; waiting for appointments, waiting for tests, waiting for results, waiting for treatment... Although health professionals are seeing people with the same problem as me every day, the lack of urgency can be stressful. Surely, you think, things should happen faster than this? And then, suddenly, they do.

After almost twelve months of appointments and tests, the results I was expecting were received. Nobody else seemed to have been anticipating this outcome, and even told me that they had been "distracted by your fibroids and your age". Immediately, things started to move. I was booked in for an operation six days after the results had been communicated to me. Action at last!

And then everything slowed down again. Because I was sent home at the weekend, it wasn't possible for anyone to make an appointment for me to be given the results of those tests for which samples were taken during the operation. Repeated requests for information as to what would happen next were met with vague responses such as, "Oh, you'll get an appointment in the post." I didn't. I was phoned by my gynaecologist's secretary two weeks later, asking me to come to the clinic two days after that. She wasn't allowed to give me any more information over the phone, of course, which led to two days of worry for me.

At the clinic, I was told I was being referred to the gynaecological oncologists at a different hospital. I'd have to go there to talk to them sometime in the next 10 days. Another wait. After 10 days, there was no news. I phoned the second hospital, only to be told that they'd discussed my case and were referring me back to the cancer therapy clinic I'm now attending. I phoned the cancer therapy clinic. "What happens now?", I asked. The answer was... yet another wait; until the referral letter from Hospital Number Two reached Hospital Number Three. Faxes and emails aren't used, so another two weeks crawled past. This time, I received a letter telling me when to go to the outpatients' clinic. Having seen the medical staff there and signed the consent form? Another wait. And then a phone call to tell me when to attend the first three appointments. Then a confirmation letter. Last week was the first "planning meeting". This week I will have my second "planning meeting" and first radiotherapy session. Once radiotherapy begins, I'll attend the hospital every week day for 22 days.

It feels as though it's been a long journey to get to this stage. Sometimes, like today, I'm weary of the whole affair. My life is on hold until the end of April at least, until my follow-up appointment, six weeks after the end of radiotherapy. There's so much I want to do, to see, to experience, and yet my life is slipping through my fingers while I wait.

It seems that patience is something you need when undergoing therapy. I'm learning to be (a) patient...