22 September 2011

Guilty Pleasures

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When it comes to guilty pleasures, there is nothing more lovely than a Starbucks toffeenut soy latte. Unfortunately it's a seasonal product, so until I convince the world it's perpetually Christmas I'll have to make do with Vanilla instead. But really it's not the taste that makes me buy their outrageously priced coffee. I love coming into Starbucks with it's hum of activity and curling up in one of their comfy chairs. In a world where everything causes me to ache, it's the only place I can go and feel normal.

Today was definitely a day for guilty pleasures. It started early, we left the house at 7:00am just to get to my mystery hospital appointment at 9:00. The waiting room was covered in MacMillan Cancer posters, which didn't bode well. I was weighed and measured, gave yet another medical history...to find out nothing.The consultant wasn't in today. While cancer is only a slim possibility, the nurse couldn't really tell us what they were testing for. Instead she sent us for another Ultrasound, a needle biopsy and more blood work.

We sat in the Ultrasound department for two hours! By the time we were called I had tears streaming down my face from the pain in my joints. When I hobbled into the room I didn't even care that it was full of people. There were two people working the ultrasound, and two men slouching by a desk. It was only at the end that I discovered at least two of them were doctors. Apparently while I'd been waiting they'd been debating my treatment. They decided to check with the consultant (who wasn't in this morning) before performing the biopsy. Our two hour wait suddenly felt like a waste of time.

But we weren't finished yet! Next we had to dash to the phlebotomy department and join a queue of forty people! In all fairness, phlebotomy my be my favourite department in any hospital. They are always brilliant. They don't fuss about my needle phobia and they are quick, efficient and professional.

Finally after four hours we escaped and made a mad dash to my Optician appointment, which was booked weeks before this strange hospital appointment appeared.

The end result is we still don't know what's going on. There seems little cause to panic just yet, but my case is still being handled behind the scenes, by doctors I've never met, in a hospital that never has my notes, and where one hand never knows what the other is doing. It's hard to feel confident about the situation.