Off to the quacks this morning for a set of blood samples. Having already been down to Inverurie to handball over a tonne of firewood into the tranny van, I then dashed up the road to make the 10.20 appointment. Looking rather disheveled and with a bad case of bed-head, I was summoned by the nurse. She obviously took an instant dislike to the scruff before her. She gave me that 'Matrons' eye, with a look to suggest I was one of our newly welcomed (ahem!) Eastern block cousins, recently arrived to fleece our already overburdened NHS, but after exchanging a few pleasantries it became obvious to her that I am indeed a Geordie which did little to soften the dogs arse pucker around her lips. Her contempt eased the choice of implement as she selected the largest needle she could find - not much smaller than a knitting needle, and was soon jabbing at my quickly retreating veins. I sacrificed four tubes of blood before the needle was sloooowly removed, yep it hurt like hell (soft shite). With a surly 'that's you' I was on my way home to stack the timber I procured earlier.
Results on Monday.........
That was it, one word from the receptionist when I rang up the quacks yesterday to enquire about the blood test results............. 'satisfactory'. That'll do me, I think. Then again, the only real way to test if the Hodge has returned is to biopsy any lumps, I don't have any of those either so lets not go there.
Off to the quacks this morning for a set of blood samples. Having already been down to Inverurie to handball over a tonne of firewood into the tranny van, I then dashed up the road to make the 10.20 appointment. Looking rather disheveled and with a bad case of bed-head, I was summoned by the nurse. She obviously took an instant dislike to the scruff before her. She gave me that 'Matrons' eye, with a look to suggest I was one of our newly welcomed (ahem!) Eastern block cousins, recently arrived to fleece our already overburdened NHS, but after exchanging a few pleasantries it became obvious to her that I am indeed a Geordie which did little to soften the dogs arse pucker around her lips. Her contempt eased the choice of implement as she selected the largest needle she could find - not much smaller than a knitting needle, and was soon jabbing at my quickly retreating veins. I sacrificed four tubes of blood before the needle was sloooowly removed, yep it hurt like hell (soft shite). With a surly 'that's you' I was on my way home to stack the timber I procured earlier.
I've had this bloody cold and chest infection for over 6 weeks, even had a course of anti-biotics to little effect. More ominously, in recent weeks I've felt a little 'gladular' particularly around by biopsy site and also more tired than usual - pretty much how I felt when I was diagnosed!!! And get this, the hair on my face which stopped growing when I had the radiotherapy has stopped growing again! Hope this is just some sort of radiotherapy flashback and nowt more serious.
