Nine...

The traffic was fairly light again today, so I arrived at the hospital with plenty of time to spare. I like getting there early, since there are few people in the waiting room, and the transfer to the waiting area for treatment is relatively quick.

I'm getting to know the radiotherapists on the team that treats me now. So far, I have met only female radiotherapists and, because of the nature of pelvic radiation - you don't remove your clothes but you do have to adjust them somewhat - I have been very pleased about this. Indeed, it has been the one thing that has cheered me up about the whole performance! Imagine my horror then, to find a male radiotherapist - who I had never seen before, let alone met - waiting for me today! I suspect that it would be easier to be a compliant patient and just go along with whatever happens during treatment, but I am no so tired of the journey and the disruption to my life that I suggested quite firmly that I did not wish to have a man arranging me on the treatment bed. Fortunately, nobody took offence - or if they did, they hid it very well! - and he left the room. I know that he was still in the radiotherapists' office/observation area so that he could ensure that everything was progressing as it should, but somehow it didn't feel appropriate to me that he should be involved with the physical aspects of treatment.

Anyway, what I learned from this experience is that you can object! When I asked for the change in personnel, I was told that it was fine and that they usually ask people if they have a preference. Nobody has ever asked me, I have to say, but I certainly felt comfortable about making the request; as I said some time ago, it's vital to trust your treatment team and to feel that they are supporting you, and I certainly do have faith in mine.

The next thing that happened was that I had to have yesterday's x-rays repeated. When I asked for an explanation - of course, the first thing that comes into your head is that there's "something wrong" - I was reassured by what I was told; namely that your position on the bed has to be the same for each x-ray and, because radiotherapists work with millimetres, even the slightest difference can result in the need for repeat x-rays. In theory, it seems - I asked about this - with the permission of the doctor, you could have a daily x-ray if the position was even fractionally different each time.

I must have been in a trouble-making frame of mind this morning! If you recall, before the treatment proper, I had to have tattoos so that the machinery could be lined up correctly each time. Ever since then, I've been wondering what happens if a patient is already tattooed in the part of the anatomy that has to be marked up. So, today, I asked. The answer, in case you're wondering, is that either a specific part of the existing tattoo is identified or the treatment tattoos are put somewhere else and extremely careful measurements are made to the target area. It all sounds tremendously complex, but at least I now know how that problem is solved.

Despite all these events, I was out of the treatment room within ten minutes of arrival and on my way home for a blood test at my local doctors' surgery. Because I was anaemic at the time of my hysterectomy, I was advised to take ferrous sulphate supplements and to have a blood test at the end of this month to ensure that they were having the desired effect. Now I have to wait a few days to get the results.

Although it's good to know that I am being monitored by so many health professionals, I think I've reached the point where I never want to see another medical person again! My life seems to be a constant parade of appointments at hospitals, at doctors' surgeries, seeing the practice nurse and so on. Even when I finish this round of treatment, I have to go for a check-up six weeks after the final session and then every six months for several years. I know it's all for my own good, but I really am tired of it and would like to be left alone!

But at least I'm one day further through my treatment.

Nine more sessions... and counting...