After completing the last blog entry, it dawned on me that I skipped something from the Thursday before Easter. I received a message from a friend over in Canada: she had heard the news and wanted to send her thoughts to us both. At that point I still had a host of friends, from uni, work, running, etc that I had yet to get in touch with. Given word was now rippling out, I decided to send messages out to a host of people. The result being that for the rest of the night, and for the following few days, I was overwhelmed with another slew of well wishers, and another cycle of receiving a note, wobbling as I read it back to my wife, replying, and then getting another one. Among the various messages there was a particular one that made me laugh: "Remember, someone has to make up the positive stats."
Tuesday was a phone consultation with the hospital to sort out the impending colonoscopy for the following week. As a result of undergoing the same a couple of months previously, a lot of it was familiar to me. The lady I was speaking to did advise that a junior doctor would be performing the procedure, with a senior in attendance overseeing, and was I OK with that. My response (and in no way a slight on the professionalism of cleaners) of "you can put the cleaner in charge of the hose if it will get it done quicker" brought hysterical laughter from the other end. I think she took that as a yes. A friend commented that based on my response, they should send the consultant in armed with a bucket, wearing Marigolds, and see what my reaction is. I then got a follow up call to confirm the date, Tuesday 30 May, so something else locked down.
Thursday was a trip up to meet a friend for dinner, with the diversion of visiting a personal private hell, IKEA. Now, I don't actually dislike IKEA: it is a great place to get decent furniture (even if building it can frustrate me to the extreme), but being forced to navigate its seemingly endless maze is not on my top 10 things to do. Thankfully, midweek afternoons are not peak-time, and we got out in under 90 minutes: I'll take that as a win.
Another letter arrived from the hospital on Friday, this confirming an appointment on 9 May with a consultant. It didn't include any context or reason, but a call to the specialist nurse team, and a conversation with the same lovely nurse from a prior visit, indicated this is when I should expect to be presented with my treatment plan, i.e. whether chemo or surgery is the next step.
So, to Saturday. City had the make-or-break visit of Derby. A win keeps our play-off challenge alive, a defeat all but nails the coffin shut. A draw? Helps no-one but Boro. In typical City big-game way, we let them scuff in a first half goal, got our sub red-carded in the 2nd half, threw the kitchen sink at them, and then conceded a 2nd. Fans streaming out before the end, crappy weather with rain blowing in. All in all, just the sort of final home game we didn't need. Always next season and all that. With my wife busy with a school reunion, my nephew stayed over, and after a cracking curry and a few beers, I found 101 Great Goals on YouTube, and made him sit through it, including such gems as this snorkel-parka fest.