This time last week, I was on the operating table. Although things have allegedly gone well since then, time seems to have dragged. Last night was characterised by severe chest and back pains which made sleeping almost impossible. I started snapping at the nurses who continually disturbed me once I DID finally manage to get off. All in all, I think I'm beginning to go a bit stir crazy.
The Professor isn't much of a help. He visited me this morning with two of his minions. I asked him whether he had the histiology reports on the little cells that he had found in the lungs. He said no, he hadn't received them yet. I asked him how things were supposed to progress from here. He said it all depended on the histiology things. If there was now cancer of the lung to worry about, it might mean two whole cycles of chemotherapy before any further operating is done. In any case, I would be sent off for some rehab, but there was no saying when that might be.
It's all so highly frustrating. Linda has booked to come over here on 23rd October for a few days, so that's something to look forward to, even though I'm not going to be much of a host by then. In the meantime, I've got to kick my heels in this place and try not to go completely up the wall. If only they could get rid of the pains. That would already be a huge step in the right direction.
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