34. Is It Just Me?

The second week is easier than the first – no tube strikes for a start - and I've found all the gardens with  snowdrops within walking distance of Diane's. But there’s a facer on the Tuesday when Dr. W casually informs me that he’s going to Edinburgh this Friday so there’ll be no intravenous vitamin C treatment that day.
But it’s meant to be three weeks of five treatments. Won’t that affect the outcome? Yes, he says, slightly.
Good God man! This is my health we are talking about! Possibly my life!
He says that he very rarely does manage the whole three weeks because there’s always something that gets in the way and no, there isn’t anyone else at the surgery who can do a drip.
Is it just me? I simply wouldn't do that. I wouldn't book someone in for three weeks and then say, casually, that I'm not doing one day. And if, for some reason, I had to go away because of a crisis, I'd arrange cover and, at the very least, be abjectly apologetic.
I think maybe I have to learn something about chutzpah.
It’s certainly shown me that I still carry a a cancer personality; probably anyone who doesn't, would dare to be furious to the doctor's face. I have a tendency not to be able to react directly to situations; they don’t seem to hit me until about an hour afterwards. That was very useful when I was a journalist as you just got on with the job, did the report and collapsed later. Today, however, I say little and then I make enquiries of the receptionist to see if someone else can be found. Really the only thing to do is to give it to God to sort it out.
It’s very noticeable however that now I’ve spotted something ‘wrong’ at the surgery, my ego is searching for more things and starting to make assumptions that are negative.
I remember, years ago,  being very vociferous to  some poor bloke at a call centre about a list of things that were wrong with something (no idea what it was now). He said ‘yes, but those are all things that you’ve noticed because there is one major thing wrong. You’re not really worried about any of them. And if we sort the one thing, you’ll feel fine again.’ I found that rather annoying at the time but it was true.
What’s more annoying is that my ticket home is on the Friday ... given that it’s a week of floods I could probably change it to the Thursday at no cost, but I have a comedy gig on Thursday night and it’s at Monkey Business. I’ve had to cancel on them twice because of the l-e-d so I really don’t want to do that again.
That night I wake up at 3am utterly, utterly furious. This is also an old pattern. There’s no one on whom I can (or would dare) to vent my fury – it’s all going to circulate and be poison to me instead.
Well that won’t do.
I get up, have some fruit and a cup of green tea and think. Nobody’s going to come up with a solution to this problem but me. Or God. It probably doesn’t matter that much but if I think it does, then it will have some effect.
What does God think? At last I remember to ask. God thinks that I was a little disappointed that the dosage was 50 ml rather than 75 ml in the first case. When it's 75ml, it is given over shorter periods of time. I did ask Dr. W but he doesn’t do 75mls.
So what if I suggest having 75ml  for a couple of days next week instead of 50ml a day?
It’s some kind of a solution; I can get my head around the idea that it might do more good and I feel totally relaxed and go back to sleep.
Next day, I ask Dr. W if he's got a plan make up the shortfall. He says he’ll have a think. ‘I have a suggestion,’ I say. He appears delighted and agrees. So next week there will be a higher dosage. Maybe that’s exactly what I need? That rather annoying God does work in mysterious ways and He/She/It is just as capable of using our foibles as our strengths.
And I will take an early train home on Friday morning instead of Friday night. First Great Western has lifted ticket restrictions so that should not be the slightest problem. So I will get to see my snowdrops again before dusk.
At this point I realise that I'm a bit crazy about snowdrops. #BonkersSnowdropWoman. 


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