Delayed intensive - no irony there, apparently.

So a couple of posts back I was moaning and groaning about starting a new cycle of treatment and giving it large about how my life was gonna be tipped upside down. Well, a week and a half later and... we're still waiting for the aforementioned cycle of treatment to start. I can only put this down to some epic clowning on my hospital's part, and it's now changed my attitude from 'scared shitless' to 'desperately eager.' WILL IT EVER END? Argh. I suppose I should explain.

I roll into hospital last Tuesday readying myself for some smackdown from the hospital staff. I had a bone marrow biopsy and a lumbar puncture scheduled for that day, so you could understand me wanting to get it done and dusted in time for dinner. However, after a routine blood check I'm told that my neutrophils are down and that I couldn't undergo any treatment for at least a week. Fair enough, I thought. Though it's frustrating, protocol is protocol. I'll just get my game face ready for next week.

Fast forward one week later. Aka, yesterday. I get a phonecall saying that I shouldn't bother coming into hospital as there's no way that my blood count would have risen that quickly and it would be a waste of a drive. Treatment should thus be delayed ANOTHER week. 'Right' I say, 'but what about my line and the flushing and the cleaning and the DRAMA?' We agree that my line still needs to be flushed so I rock over to Oxford again (btw guys I'm trying to make this sound cool as possible, in reality my Mum drove me) and await the nurses. In the meantime I suggest they take bloods as, well, you know, it wouldn't hurt to see how they are right? 'Of course' they say. You can see where this is going. Turns out my neutrophils had gone up exceptionally like the boss that I am and that treatment could have in fact started yesterday. However because they hadn't written up any medicine for me I now have to wait until next week. ARGH.

I don't like slagging off hospitals. I do love the staff at the Churchill, and they are saving my life and everything so we'll cut them some slack, but if they could stop ruining my summer plans then THAT WOULD BE STELLAR CHEERS.

To cheer myself up and make the most of my last weekend of prime health I've decided to journey down to Devon with Ellise and a few others this coming Saturday. My mate Dan's family is throwing a huge marquee party so I'm going down there to drink cider and eat lamb and generally absorb farm life to the fullest. I AM KEEN.

Have a good week gentlemen and ladies. I hope that you enjoyed my two post extravaganza today. It probably won't happen again.

Big love,
Ryan.