I mentioned before that leaving Cardiff was a real wrench and one of the ways in which it was so was in that I was leaving behind the medical team who had dealt with everything to that point. They had told me of the diagnosis and helped me through all the decision making processes, yet I was now leaving this group that I trusted implicitly.
When I got home one of the first things I did was arrange to meet with the consultant to whom I had been referred in Glasgow. It was the oddest half hour I've probably ever had. In that time Anne Parker told me on eight separate occasions that I could die from the treatments alone never mind the disease and made it perfectly clear that Clare would be treated completely independent of me and if for any reason whatsoever she decided not to donate her bone marrow, no debate would be entered into as even though she was my sister her welfare were of the same importance as mine.
I had got used to the amount of information that can be thrown at you in appointments with consultants and was significantly better at being able to recant the information back to everyone after, but even I was slightly taken aback when Anne told me there was a slot that had opened up six weeks from then if I wanted to take it. I really didn't expect things to progress at the rate it was going but I phoned Clare and she said that was absolutely fine by her and arranged for her to get in touch with the team.
Over the next month or so I had to get a few things sorted out, not least of all was moving the last of my stuff back from Cardiff. We made a weekend of it with Dave, Owen and myself taking my dad's van down to get my gear but stopping off halfway at Warrington where our friend Lynn's parents lived for the night. We would stop there again on the way back up as it was also Lynn's birthday that weekend. We had an absolutely fantastic time on that little road trip, the messy details of which aren't really for this blog.
On returning I had to visit the Beatson Oncology Centre at the Western Infirmary to get measured up ahead of radiotherapy. I was still seeing Laurie at the time and had stayed at her place the night before as she lived right next to the Beatson but went alone, as it's been my tendency to do. I know a lot of people like to have someone along with them for all their appointments as they ask things you might not think of as well as remember the things that you don't but I prefer to be on my own.
This appointment wasn't without it's concerns. When I had been handed my treatment protocol it had this entry
Now TBI I understood to be Total Body Irradiation which is a scary prospect but it wasn't that which bothered me. BOC stands for Beatson Oncology Centre, which I knew to be where I was to go for this but for some reason I got all outraged that they were going to be measuring me for a wig. I had no desire for that and was going to let them know in no uncertain terms what they could do with their wig. That was until it was pointed out to me that WIG simply stands for Western Infirmary Glasgow, the site of the Beatson. It had nothing to do with wigs at all. What an idiot.
So I went there feeling rather sheepish but in all honesty I probably would have been that way anyway as it's a hell of a place to go to. I was measured incredibly accurately whilst lying in a very particular position on a bed, which would ensure that I got the correct dose of radiation and that it be equally distributed through my body. The room where you get the radiotherapy has many moulds for people who are getting targetted radiation on very specific areas of their body.
I went in there knowing that these moulds ensure that no other tissue is damaged by the radiation so I couldn't stop thinking about the fact I would have no such thing. I was deliberately exposing all of me to these beams. Then, more than any other time I knew the risk I was taking.
I went to meet Laurie for lunch and headed home to get my head around it all again.
To help the process along Dave decided that he and I would go out on the friday for a bit of a last hurrah before all the bad stuff would really start. That was the day Laurie and I broke up but it didn't detract much from how much fun we had. There was some bad dancing, some pool playing and as was common there was a fair bit of karaoke - I did a wonderful job of Raindrop's Keep Fallin' on my Head as well as Aztec Camera's Somewhere in My Heart.
We ended up a terrible mess but it was exactly what I needed just then.
After that the serious stuff began.
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