Monday, 30th January 2006

Countdown begins...well, almost.

I woke up this morning and like billions of other people on the planet needed to empty my bladder. Nothing unusual with that. However I did notice the urine was a little cloudy. After breakfast I called the oncology nurse at the chemo unit in the hospital to let her know that I seemed to have an infection. She advised me to see the nurse practitioner at my local surgery with a sample so that it could be tested.

Our GP's surgery is opposite the house. This comes in handy when the kids break out with a nasty rash; I call the surgery, hold up a child to a window, and then look out for the elaborate set of Anglo-Saxon hand signals from the nurse advising me what to do and where to go. Before my appointment I decided to walk across the road to get one of the special containers medical people give you when they need a sample. The waiting room was packed to the rafters. So in as discreet a manner as I could muster, I asked the weary-looking receptionist for a container. I explained, in a hushed voice, I was seeing the nurse later. “IS IT FOR A URINE SAMPLE MRS KESSELMAN?” You could have heard a pin drop. No one looked round but they must have heard. I nodded and managed a polite “Thank you” as a clear perspex tube with a lid was handed across the counter.

Dignity only slightly damaged I returned home and tried to use the tube. I wondered if the receptionist had given me a boy's container; surely a girl's one should have a wider diameter? Anyway, I managed to get a sample into the tube, but I had to sort of stand on the toilet seat and aim from a great height. Some things come easier to me than others. Nevertheless, at five to twelve, I returned triumphantly to the surgery. I greeted the receptionist with a cold stare; I felt like waving the little tube in front of her while saying “Guess what I've got?” But that would have been childish and very silly. God knows I came close. The nurse stuck a little piece of paper into the tube and confirmed I had a urinary infection. She prescribed a three day course of antibiotics.

I called the oncology nurse to report my findings. She said “Right then, we can't start you tomorrow as we need all that to clear up before we can begin” We agreed a new start date Tuesday, 7th February 2006. I put the phone down and breathed a sigh of relief. I had not meant for this to happen, but I have seven more days to prepare.