For those of you expecting to find a Monty Python blog, my apologies - I have been told my blog is quite funny but I would never endeavour to think it might rank up there with the MP. This blog covers my diagnosis of Multiple Myeloma, the fact that it has prohibited me from playing rugby, drinking incessantly; it has caused me to eat some miserably horrid pacific-seafood concoction and have myself poked/prodded and tested for quite some time now. Having said that, it is time for a bit of comic relief in the blog. So this next bit has absolutely nothing to do with my treatment or diagnosis - it was just something I found funny and appropriate.
First - what is the etiquette in the cancer treatment center? I watched one lady, making her tea at the coffee/tea/water/snack counter in the waiting room spurt creamer across the counter, twice, only to find out she's waiting for an appt that isn't till tomorrow. I watched a second lady try to 'not' be intrusive while she got her tea during the time the other lady was making the mess. I was having coffee and was able to sneak in and trigger the Kuerig (due to my intimate knowledge from my folks house) and get out of the way. Apparently not in time to get out of the way of the spurting creamer. I was holding my jacket, saw the creamer spurt and did a quick lord of the dance back and out of the way. The lady apologized and I pointed at my legs and the floor and said she missed me - she pointed at my jacket and said she didn't! all down the front of my brown suit-coat - at it's 801 (I've not yet started my day!) Contrary to popular belief, the 'roids didn't take over and I was quite nice (my treatment for the roids was starting in 15 min so today probably would have been a different story! :)
Second - compliments of Pat's father - I had just returned from the hospital and this caught me as quite funny!
A sweet grandmother telephoned St. Joseph 's Hospital. She timidly asked, "Is it possible to speak to someone who can tell me how a patient is doing?"
The operator said, "I'll be glad to help, dear. What's the name and room number of the patient?"
The grandmother, in her weak, tremulous voice, said "Norma Findlay, Room 302."
The operator replied, "Let me put you on hold while I check with the nurse's station for that room."
After a few minutes the operator returned to the phone and said, "I have good news. Her nurse just told me that Norma is doing well. Her blood pressure is fine; her blood work just came
back normal and her physician, Dr. Cohen, has scheduled her to be discharged tomorrow."
The grandmother said "Thank you. That's wonderful. I was so worried. God bless you for the good news."
The operator replied, "You're more than welcome. Is Norma your daughter?"
The grandmother said, "No, I'm Norma Findlay in Room 302. No one tells me shit."
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