A radiologist came and called out a name. An elderly
man stood up and walked unsteadily towards her. His two younger companions, a
man and a woman in their early forties, looked concernedly at him for a short
while then returned to their mobile phones. Shortly after he disappeared, the
woman began playing video clips on her phone to the man at full volume. Have
you seen this one, she howled? He shook his head, grinning. Soon they were both
laughing hysterically. What about this one, shouted the man? She eagerly leant
over his phone and they were again laughing hysterically. The manic noise of
the clips and their braying filled every corner of the room.
I tried to ignore the row, but it grated on my
nerves. Soon all the cancer patients were shaking their heads and exchanging
disapproving glances with each other. The two were obsessed with their play and
oblivious to the rest of us.
Excuse me, I shouted, would you mind turning the
volume down?
They both looked up with a start
It wasn’t me, said the man, just like a naughty
child.
The woman gave a big sigh and switched off her phone
with a flounce of her head.
They both sulked until the older man returned from
his scan.
I thought two things. Firstly, in marketing there is
a prized category of consumers called ‘kidults’: over 30’s who have substantial
disposable income and who share the values and mores of 16-25 year olds. Many
of the adverts on mainstream TV are targeted at these consumers. Secondly, I pondered
how kidults would try to cope with the painful stress of a parent who has
cancer? By immersion in the opposite emotion?
My call came and I lay down in the CT machine, which
whirred and whirled around me. In ten minutes it was over and I went home. After
two weeks of sleepless nights and worry, I was back in the Cancer Centre to
meet my Oncologist. She has a difficult job. Today she appeared more cheerful
than usual. On the desk in front of her was what looked like a scan report. The
text covered the full page, making it much longer than normal. My worries went
up a couple of notches.
She began by asking how I was feeling. I explained
my recent symptoms: pain in both hips and groins, stomach still disturbed, pain in my abdomen and chest. She
said that the scan had shown that I have a small hiatus hernia and a small inguinal
hernia. But apart from that I was all clear of cancer.
An enormous weight left me. I’d now been clear of
cancer for two years. So I’d got through the most dangerous time. The risk
continued of course, my previous recurrence had come at four years.
The other problems were a consequence of the series
of major operations I’d had. They could be dealt with or lived with. My next scan would be in
January.