I’m sure you’ve all seen those programmes, Jerry Springer, Maury, etc even if it’s just as you hastily flick past whilst channel surfing.
‘Tell your husband why you’ve brought him here today?’
‘Little Jim Bob Wafflebottom Jnr may not be yours!’
‘Did you ever suspect that you may not be the daddy?’
Close up of cute chubby black baby.
Cut back to blond haired blue eyed Aryan looking couple
‘Well we have the results. In the case of Little Jim Bob Wafflebottom Jnr you are…… NOT the father!’
I’ve never understood why people would go on those shows to share their secrets, well now I do.
Meet Sean. We did. On the ‘landing’ at 10z at the Royal on Friday where Sean asked had I found my house keys. I assume I displayed a somewhat horrified facial expression.
Sean: ‘He still doesn’t know.’ Clue in the title of the post – DON’T TELL BERNARD!
B: ‘What keys?’ or ‘Have you lost your keys?’ – It was one of those two I can’t remember exactly I was in shock. St Anthony’s not helped so far, Sandy.
Fortunately Joan came out of the unit to give me a hug because I’d knit a little Myeloma Buddy for her grand-daughter who is only a few weeks old and B was distracted briefly. There were some subsequent questions but fortunately I was saved by the lift.
Back to Maury – People chose to air their dirty (filthy) laundry on these shows because their husbands don’t start asking for intimate details of when they last had the keys, what time was it exactly, what were they wearing, what was the weather like, etc. They have a disbelieving reaction in front of the audience and then you get a breather and get to chat to Sean about myeloma, and it’s only after you leave Sean and company at Phelbotomy and are approaching the coffee shop that B says ‘When were you going to tell me about the keys?’ – I’m gonna go with never if I couldn’t find them.
Then you get another reprive because a lady in the queue has myeloma. How do you know this – well as I’ve read previously about receipients of the MM award (well except me), she was really nice, funny and pleasant so I thought she must have myeloma. Okay, what really happened was she commented on the sharpness of the knitting needles I had sticking precuariously out of my box and how she could do herself a mischief if impaled on them. She then asked me how I was doing. I didn’t know her from Adam and she’s enquiring about my well being. She said her grandson has lukemeia, so I said that I had a blood cancer too, myeloma and it turns out she does. Diagnosed last November. I looked well, she looked well and B looked like he was going to have a fit if I didn’t tell him what I wanted to drink! Her grandson is six – what a ________________ (insert own words, mine would have made a docker blush).
We sit down and it’s back to the keys – are you sitting down? It’s a good job I was.
B: ‘I suppose it’s my fault for telling you to take them with you.’ (Now he hadn’t managed to get any sleep before we left home so I know there’s not a pod under the bed.)
Me: ‘Er, no. It’s actually just as well you made me take the car key off and leave that at home.’
B: ‘I wondered why you were using the side door keys. We’ll get you some more cut.’
So thanks Sean, really!
Prior to this we had met our new consultant – not the one I expected but apparently two of them share the clinic. Fortunately I had heard very good things about this doctor and he is a professor too – I just refuse to see anybody less now. It was just as well I knew how well regarded and loved he is by his patients because there was one downside – he wears a white coat. I’ve never been any good with anything medical even regular doctor’s appointments – but previously I’d had so few of them, about five in the last 30 years, so it wasn’t that big of a problem, and obviously I’ve gotten over this phobia, needs must and all that, but white coats still freak me out a bit, and now I’ve got past that too.
We sat there whilst he went through the blood results – went through the blood results – okay I typed that twice but the last consultant didn’t even say the blood results were okay, not okay or I seemed to be full of blackcurrant cordial instead of blood.
Now restrictions aren’t as stringent on crowds but common sense is advised – er, well, good job B has enough for both of us.
Acupuncture is okay. This did produce a pause, apparently because there can be a risk of hepatitis but when I said my acupuncturist is also a nurse, the Prof was satisfied her standards of hygiene would be good.
Normally I’d have to get my prescriptions from our GP but the Prof gave me a prescription there and then for the Aciclovir and Septrin – even asking how I would like to take the Septrin as there are two options. I asked about Bonefos and whether I could take it once a day rather than two (1,600mg), Prof double checked – yes I can – would I like some adding to the prescription now – oh okay then.
B asked about surgery on the collapsed vertebra but the Prof said this is done as a last resort and since I’m not in pain with it I don’t think I’d consider it just for the sake of gaining back an inch in height.
Good news for B
Takeaways are now acceptable. We had one on Friday and it was gorgeous. They’d missed us and the nice man from the takeaway asked how things went when I placed the order.
Lay off the exercise – Why B thinks this is good news I don’t know, only the other week he said if he could wrinkle his nose (think bewitched) I wouldn’t have myeloma – awwww, don’t get the hankies out yet though – this was followed by I’d also have a hot body – still thinking awwwww?
I had been getting a bit of not pain, more stiffness in my lower back last week. I’d done 20 mins on the exercise bike, moved up to the big elastic band and done more driving than usual. It’s more when I get up from sitting and walk, for a short distance, like I’ve had a bit of a mishap (although standing up ironing today for half an hour aggravated it a bit). The Prof thought it was unlikely to be the myeloma but if I was still getting problems they’d x-ray it next time we went however I should go back if I get any numbness in my legs or it gets worse – and lay off the exercise! L This was perhaps helped along by B doing the ‘Paula’s problem is she pushes herself too much’ routine.
So this week I’m going to do nothing but knit and eat – we’ll see how B feels about me pushing myself when I look like Violet Beauregarde and he has to grease up the door frame to get me out of the house! And I wonder if I can change Professors until I get one that says ‘Yeah no worries, exercise all you want, just remember to stop if you hear something snap’.