I’m familiar with the whole thing of sleeping apart due to suppressed immune system. I’ve worked from home since early 2020, but Mrs F went back to the office five days a week last year. Every time she picks up a cold, one of us has to sleep in the spare room to protect me.
Sadly, evidence suggests I’m more likely to catch a cold from Offspring the Elder, as we share the cabin air of her Fiat 500 during driving test practice.
I also agree about the Royal Berks layout. I had a verruca removed there circa 1990 and arrived in time but ended up being about an hour late by the time I found the right clinic.
Saying that, I didn’t go to Addenbrookes hospital in Cambridge since Offspring the Younger was born there 20 years ago. It has since become the Biomedical Campus and new buildings have sprung up all over. My first appointment last year involved pushing my bike through reception of a building which wasn’t there in 2005, to get to my clinic. My next trip involved pushing it the wrong way down a one-way street, to avoid the above. My third time was luckier as I cycled around the ring road until I saw a sign for the outpatients building.
@fentonsteve I’ve got a ‘new to me’ department to go to tomorrow and I’ leaving an hour earlier than I need for that exact reason. Thanks, as ever š
Thanks as ever Niall for posting. It’s an eye opener that’s for sure. Those I have known who underwent cancer treatment never explained the process in any detail and your matter of fact descriptions are illuminating and interesting.
I suspect the very worst of the ordeal you describe is the separation from Jan just at the time when you need her most. It was very emotional reading it let alone having to endure it. The process has started and your fortitude is a very big asset.
Good luck on your journey.
I’m dipping in and out of your blog because it’s bringing up too many memories of my son and chemo at Addenbrookes. Completely different cancer with, no doubt about it, a completely different outcome -it became clear afterwards he never had a chance of survival. But your honesty and vulnerability is truly inspiring.
Thanks again Niall for being so open with your diagnosis and treatment . I know if I ever have to go through your experience this blog would certainly help me .
That’s a tough start to have to be separated from Janet (and her from you), but good to hear that you didn’t feel too bad from the first treatment. I hope it stays that way, and that Janet gets well really soon!
Thank you Niall for the detailed explanation of what happens during chemo and I wish you all the best. That first hug you can have with Janet will feel wonderful.
You and Janet are brilliant and you both deserve each other.
Getting lost at the Royal Berks is a rite of passage. As is spending 90 minutes looking for a parking space. Itās a frustrating place full of wonderful people.
Your posts are moving and insightful. Thank you. This one reminds me of a t shirt that I had once that simply said āActually, medicine is the best form of medicineā. Keep on taking it.
Is it dusty in here?
I’m familiar with the whole thing of sleeping apart due to suppressed immune system. I’ve worked from home since early 2020, but Mrs F went back to the office five days a week last year. Every time she picks up a cold, one of us has to sleep in the spare room to protect me.
Sadly, evidence suggests I’m more likely to catch a cold from Offspring the Elder, as we share the cabin air of her Fiat 500 during driving test practice.
I also agree about the Royal Berks layout. I had a verruca removed there circa 1990 and arrived in time but ended up being about an hour late by the time I found the right clinic.
Saying that, I didn’t go to Addenbrookes hospital in Cambridge since Offspring the Younger was born there 20 years ago. It has since become the Biomedical Campus and new buildings have sprung up all over. My first appointment last year involved pushing my bike through reception of a building which wasn’t there in 2005, to get to my clinic. My next trip involved pushing it the wrong way down a one-way street, to avoid the above. My third time was luckier as I cycled around the ring road until I saw a sign for the outpatients building.
@fentonsteve I’ve got a ‘new to me’ department to go to tomorrow and I’ leaving an hour earlier than I need for that exact reason. Thanks, as ever š
Thanks as ever Niall for posting. It’s an eye opener that’s for sure. Those I have known who underwent cancer treatment never explained the process in any detail and your matter of fact descriptions are illuminating and interesting.
I suspect the very worst of the ordeal you describe is the separation from Jan just at the time when you need her most. It was very emotional reading it let alone having to endure it. The process has started and your fortitude is a very big asset.
Good luck on your journey.
@SteveT Thanks š
I’m dipping in and out of your blog because it’s bringing up too many memories of my son and chemo at Addenbrookes. Completely different cancer with, no doubt about it, a completely different outcome -it became clear afterwards he never had a chance of survival. But your honesty and vulnerability is truly inspiring.
@Lodestone-of-Wrongness I’m sorry if itās triggering and I’m sorry about your son. Thank you so much for your support.
Thanks again Niall for being so open with your diagnosis and treatment . I know if I ever have to go through your experience this blog would certainly help me .
@Bejesus thank you š
Good work, Neil.
@Skirky Thank you š
That’s a tough start to have to be separated from Janet (and her from you), but good to hear that you didn’t feel too bad from the first treatment. I hope it stays that way, and that Janet gets well really soon!
@Locust, Thank you. Yes, I really feel for her. Itās crap.
Thank you Niall for the detailed explanation of what happens during chemo and I wish you all the best. That first hug you can have with Janet will feel wonderful.
@hubert-rawlinson Thanks and, oh god, yes it will.
You and Janet are brilliant and you both deserve each other.
Getting lost at the Royal Berks is a rite of passage. As is spending 90 minutes looking for a parking space. Itās a frustrating place full of wonderful people.
Your posts are moving and insightful. Thank you. This one reminds me of a t shirt that I had once that simply said āActually, medicine is the best form of medicineā. Keep on taking it.
@Leedsboy Thank you, my friend šThatās a great saying.
I bought it from a company that also sold me t-shirts saying:
“Meat is murder. Tasty, tasty murder” and “I listen to bands that don’t even exist yet”
Obviously, I am too old to wear humerous t-shirts now….
@Leedsboy š