I feel that my appointment at the cancer clinic this afternoon deserves its own post. I posted earlier today before I went to see the wonderful Dr. Fabio at the Breast Care Centre in Worthing. Actually his title isn’t doctor, it’s Mr. because he is a surgeon. This is an ancient thing from the days when surgeons were barbers and not at all learned so could not call themselves doctors.
I was slightly taken aback by the number of people waiting at the clinic. I found a seat facing the park with its beautiful autumn leaves, next to a young carer accompanying an elderly lady in a wheelchair. Despite the carer’s youth she was wonderful with the lady, who spoke at the top of her voice as she commented on the quality of the call-outs for patients, the fact that it was getting dark and that she needed a cup of water.
The clinic was running a tad late but I am used to that. The surgeons and nurses allow as much time as people need to take in the awful diagnosis of cancer. I remember that, and was grateful for it at the time so I came prepared for a wait. I took my iPad with me and read a bit more of Ken Follett’s rather long-winded account of a rescue of some Americans from a jail in Iran during the 1979 revolution.
Finally my name was called and my very own surgeon, Fabio (I cannot recall his surname, but he is Italian) received me, listened to my minor concerns, told me there was nothing to worry about, examined me, expressed his satisfaction and signed me off for another year.
So my hiccup in the panoply of life is now well and truly over. I am well. I am 73 years very young, fit, and enjoying my life to the full. Here’s to another year of good health.
Here’s a question. Do you believe that your health can be helped by your own efforts? I strongly believe that keeping fit, eating healthily, and avoiding stress is very much a factor is keeping ill-health at bay.