I believe you can find humour in any area or event in life and my cancer journey has been no exception.
My husband and I were discussing the surgical procedure with the consultant when he mentions that I will have a dye injected prior to surgery that will colour not just my boob area, but the rest of my body as well, blue for an amount of time.
“Ha,” laughed my husband, “Papa Smurf.”
I shot him a look ( one of those husband/wife looks) as the surgeon continued in a sober fashion.
“Well it will have the effect of making your wife look a bit “corpse-like”.”
I looked back to my husband with a new-found respect. I think I’ll take Papa Smurf on this occasion.
So the day of surgery came. We walked on past the newly built, state of the art building where I will go for chemo and radiotherapy. I glance over at the beautiful bronze statue of Florence Nightingale in front of the door and then up at the building’s name.
“Cancer Unit”, writ large!
Not even a “The.”
Had they run out of funds or was the Minister in charge of naming buildings off that day!
I shudder and walk on. A lovely nurse greeted me and cheerily gave me my programme for the morning.
“Now, you will first go to Mamo and then round to Nuclear.”
Turns out to be Nuclear Medicine. I think the Naming Minister was off that day too.
About 30 seconds after being deposited in the waiting room another lovely nurse comes to collect me. They must have thought I would run away and they mightn’t have been too far off the mark!
“I have to ask you, for legal reasons, are you pregnant?”
I laugh……heartily. “No.”
Lovely Nurse then gowns up and dons a pair of gloves before injecting this obviously hazardous material into my right tit!!
Because of various taping and markers I am not allowed to get “fully” dressed ( no bra) before me and two-hung-low walk back, through the hospital, to my ward.
Cheery Nurse is bustling about the ward when I get back and I ask her if she finds a sudden increase in the patients need of Valium, post Nuclear visit.
Oh, how she laughs!!