Wrote a whole post and it deleted before I sent it. So here goes an abridged version:
Bupa, all good. Phew. Hopefully for everything, there may be bits around the edge we have to cover. That’s ok. Extremely grateful, obviously not that I’m in this position as I’m actually feeling really bloody crap today, but I have an opportunity here at least. Many, many couldn’t and wouldn’t.
I absolutely hear you on the Go Fund Me, but I just can’t get past myself on it, it wasn’t my motivation at all when I started writing this journal or journey of sorts. Honestly, it feels like a bit of a blooming cheek to be asking people for money when I’m lying in The Harley Street Clinic having some of the best care in the world. It just doesn’t sit right. I’m very alive to the fact that are so many people out there who are struggling month to month with hardship and poverty in this country, and here’s me taking the piss in a swanky hospital. I just cannot stop feeling wrong about it. We’re not loaded and yes, I’ve now not been working for 2 months and that’s a problem, and we are having many extra expenses I hadn’t even envisaged, but I’m honestly here for support and candles, prayers, the wonderful people sending messages of hope and solidarity from all over the world, the faith, hope and love that a previous poster put so beautifully. Maybe I’ll think of something else because I know you want to help, maybe there will be something right, but I’m really the sort of person who breaks out in a rash at the thought of ever asking anyone for anything or being deemed a CF!
So, faith, hope and love.
Had some soup for lunch which was very nice, a wee bit of chicken salad, although it broke me right out in a sweat and I had to stop, and a few spoons of creme brûlée. Nice soups are my favourite right now. Everything else is just so much effort and the cost is increased pain and distension.
Extremely tired now and so bloated, I’m a beach ball. Might have a nap, but don’t want them to think I’m a terribly ill person - have the fear of appearing bad and not getting chemo. Silly really. Am extremely chirpy with the staff, Kerr thinks it’s quite funny.
Nurse: “How are you Pamela?”
Me: “Oh great thanks, how are you?”
Truth: “Absolutely shite thanks, death warmed up, in fact”.
In fairness, I am being real too, I have told the doctors exactly how it is. Hope they can sort out the fluid and what not tomorrow too as I feel like I’m about to explode which I have mentioned.
Think Prof B was extremely optimistic about dining out as I would really struggle, the other doctor didn’t think it was a good idea, but I’m getting a wheelchair so Kerr can take me on a wee trip around later on when my latest bloods come back.