I met a bunch of my golfing friends the other day, all of them concerned and interested in how I was and how my journey was progressing. It’s so nice to have such friends, particularly when, so far, I don’t feel any different than I did before this diagnosis. I feel a bit of a fraud actually.
A very pleasant interlude, friendly conversation, plus, of course, some frustration with the weather putting any idea of getting out on the golf course soon still feeling too far away. But however nice the occasion was, as it always is, it was totally overshadowed when I arrived home.
My Lady couldn’t wait for me to come through the back door—
she’d had a phone call from my treatment team confirming that treatment was to begin the following Monday, the day I was waiting for to hear of a start day, not the day itself! These nice folk continue to impress.
It was just for the first week, and at different times of the day. My Lady had already made out a schedule for the days.
It seems these unique treatments for each cancer patient are part of a 24/7 planning system that caters for different patients, different treatments and totally different schedules, all subject to potential changes throughout each and every day. A sort of ever-changing jigsaw puzzle kept exactly up to date by the efforts of all these doctors, nurses and therapists as no more than just part of the job. Incredible.
It’s quite surprising just how caught up you get in the entire process, concerns or fears relegated to the back of your mind as you look forward to the next few weeks of treatment and how you, and your body, will be able to cope with it.
I am looking forward to driving to the Walker Family Cancer Centre on Day 1 with My Lady a passenger. We plan on being a driver tag team for that first week to see how it goes.
Also looking forward to seeing my team again and getting the treatment for the very first time. I’m told it may take all of about 15 minutes and I won’t feel a thing.
The slightly bigger problem is to track down the folks who we can get a monthly parking pass from.
Then, who knows, maybe some shopping on the way back home.
It all seems rather humdrum—it’s really surprising when something that should be scary so quickly becomes just a part of your day. So, although I will continue my journey, I don’t wish to bore you all.
Maybe I will try a different type of column next time, but, be assured, boring or not, I will complete this journey of mine over the next several weeks and let you know how it goes.
