Friday 12 September
Today was ghastly. I drank the required half pint of water at twenty-five past two, which meant I should have been fine for the three o’clock appointment. Everything seemed to be running to time, but 3 p.m. came and went with no call for me. I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, as the past few days have been very difficult for me anyway. I have had trouble ‘passing water’ (as my father politely used to put it) at night, and it’s been not only a strain but painful. Moreover I’ve been feeling pretty wretched generally.
At five-past three I was called in for a review clinic (which was due to follow my treatment). ‘I can’t come now,’ I confided. ‘I’m busting and will have to go to the loo and drink some more water after.’ ‘Don’t worry,’ she said – ‘she’ being one of the senior radiographers who conduct these reviews from time to time. ‘There are two before you anyway so go to the loo, take the water and come and see me, and I’ll tell them you’re on your way after.’
She was a kindly woman who listened to my problems and assured me they were not at all unusual for this stage of the treatment. ‘Two weeks after it’s over you should begin to feel better. Actually you’re doing very well.’
By the time the session ended I was through-and-through frazzled. Only three left, thank God.
Sunday 14 September
I’m having a lousy weekend. Every visit to the loo is painful. I’m to and fro there all night as well as in the day. I daren’t go far from the house for fear of what might happen. Roll on Wednesday.
Thursday 18 September
Over at last! Relief unbounded.
© Herbert Williams