Having spent a whole 3 weeks away from the NHS, I was back there again on Tuesday. For once, it was quite fun and I even got three more tattoos for nothing! On (very quick) reflection, "nothing" is probably not the right word as, like all tax payers in the UK, I have already paid quite a lot, but we will let that pass for the minute.
I had been summoned for a "CT (planning) scan". Basically, this is scanning the three bits of gold they inserted a few weeks ago and performing what shooters might call "rangefinding". At home, I use bits of wood etc. to set the sights before potting vermin; the NHS use a slightly more expensive CT scanner before potting prostates. Same principle, just different kit and, hopefully, a less lethal ending!
The instructions were fairly simple: make sure you have drunk plenty of water before leaving home, arrive 45 minutes before allotted time and bring a 500ml bottle of water with you. Fortunately water is sold (!) in 500ml bottles so I was saved the trouble of converting millilitres into pints. Arrived as instructed, clutching my 500ml of bottled water and went to the reception desk. As it turned out, the first reception desk of 3!
Me: "Here for a CT scan"
Receptionist #1: "go down there, turn left, through the doors, second receptionist"
Walked down the corridor, turned left, went through the doors and queued for the second receptionist whose desk displayed a sign on which was written "CT scan". Only one person in front of me, so was seen quickly.
Me: "Here for a CT scan"
Receptionist #2: "Name?" told her my name
Receptionist: "hmmmm, date of birth?" told her my date of birth
"hmmmm, you are here for a CT scan?"
Me: "yes"
Much puzzled scanning of computer screen.......
Receptionist "Are you sure it is today?"
Me: "Yes"
More puzzled looks
Me "I was told to be here for a planning CT scan"
Receptionist: "Oh, you need radiotherapy reception" pointing to the woman sitting next to her
Fortunately Receptionist #3 had no queue and found my name instantly.....
"turn right down that corridor, through the doors and you will find a waiting area tucked away. They know you are here" Either the technology was better than I thought, or there was something slightly spooky about the last part of the that exchange.......
Found the tucked away waiting area and sat down. Not exactly packed; 2 couples who were fairly quickly led way. I was then joined by an elderly lady and her son. As she sat down, she looked at the wilting plant forlornly dangling its leaves over the side of a pot and observed "that plant is just like me, half dead". Who said that people cannot have humour in a cancer unit?
Waited......and waited......and waited. About half an hour later, a young woman arrived and invited me to follow her to the "quiet room". Apart from people in uniform walking around wishing each other good morning, the whole place seemed quiet enough, but off to the "quiet room" we went.
Pleasant young woman, but an almost complete waste of time. After checking I was not an imposter, she explained why I was there, what the side effects of radiotherapy might be and took my picture. Apparently they find having a picture reduces the chances of them treating the wrong person. We had a bit of a laugh when she told me that the radiotherapy might make me feel tired and I replied that if it did I would approach my GP for some amphetamines or, failing his co-operation, would head down to Maidstone town centre on a saturday evening and get some without the need for a prescription.
Sent back to the waiting area with the instruction to empty my bladder and then drink my precious 500ml of water.
Waited 45 minutes, then another young woman approached and said she would come back to collect me before rushing off (I think she was desperate...............). A minute or so later, yet another young woman approached and asked me to follow her into the CT room. We were soon joined by the other woman who clearly felt much relieved.
Usual explanations about machines etc and a few laughs, then loaded onto the machine. Ultrasound to check that my bladder had refilled sufficiently. Fail!
Sent back to the waiting area for another 15 minutes............
Back on the machine, ultrasound applied..........still not enough.......nearly enough......not enough......nearly enough......bingo! Not sure how all this worked, but it seems that the harder they push with the ultrasound probe, the more accurate the reading.
Lined up, lasers checked, a couple of minutes for the scan, then the tattoos. They obviously anticipate that people will find this traumatic, but I explained that I had had the real thing, so not bothered by a few spots. I am now the proud owner of three blue dots, one on each hip and one on my abdomen, which will enable them to align the radiotherapy machine in 4 weeks' time.
All in all, the usual long winded and bureaucratic NHS, but at least the people were very pleasant and we had a few laughs. It did strike me, however, that they were not exactly under pressure. I seemed to be the only person that the two technicians running the CT machine were due to see; no-one entered before me, and there was no-one waiting after me. One machine depreciating at a rate of knots, two skilled technicians, 50 square metres or so of expensive building and all this devoted to one person for about 2 hours that I was aware of. Great to have the personal service, but as an exercise in efficiency, this fell way short of the mark.
Next step is the treatment bit: 37 sessions over 7.5 weeks starting on 23rd June........I hope that the staff at the centre are feeling strong!
Back in about 4 weeks folks.
Now for a song. I have not written an entry since one of the greatest bluesmen of all time left us, so here is one of my favourite tunes of all time:
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