After a week under Mom’s care, I came home. I’m so far from recovered.
I was rushing to get to my post-op appointment with the surgeon. I hopped a wall – lower than knee-height – and my leg nearly gave in under me. I was out of breath when I arrived and I’d merely walked. What a wake-up call. As far as I’ve come, I’m going to need a lot more time to recover.
With the infection all cleared up, I’ve been in to see the oncologist. The Durban Oncology Centre has changed in 20 years with new furniture and staff but some unmistakable smell that I recognised took me all the way back and tears welled at the stark realisation of the journey I was about to face. They took bloods for testing and more memories came flooding back. I hadn’t prepared for this visit. I didn’t think I needed to; how arrogant.
The oncologist is being cautious and I’m having a CT scan before treatment starts. If the results are satisfactory, I’ll have a port inserted in my chest to receive treatment to avoid the hunt for veins each time. Another procedure… I’m not looking forward to that but at least it should make life easier.