Ms Raccoon duly attended her quarterly interview with the oncologist on Friday; delighted to tell you that you will have to put up with me for longer than predicted – it seems the Letrozole is having some beneficial effects and slowing the progress of my cancer!
I’ve even, with the aid of the blissful ‘pain patch’ managed to train it into some sort of discipline that allows me to go about my normal prowl of the cyber waves. That being so, I shall be taking off on the good ship ‘Lord Nelson’ from West India Docks two weeks today…I can’t wait.
The NHS continues to throw up interesting characters – this week an utterly miserable receptionist. Long face, deep scowl, she was tasked with making me an appointment for another scan in three months.
‘Can’t do it ’til the 20th’, she said.
‘That’s OK, I shall look forward to seeing your smiling face on the 20th’.
‘You should try working here, you wouldn’t be so cheerful’.
‘You should try being a patient here’, I said.
Now bearing in mind that this was half past nine in the morning, what could possibly have gone wrong with her day that made her think her troubles were more profound than those of an entire queue of people with cancer waiting for news of when they might be ‘seen’ again?
I keep thinking about that exchange, every time I venture onto Twitter, which seems to be filled with people whose entire life has been ruined by someone using the wrong term to describe the ethnicity or disability of someone they have never met?
The ‘outrage bus’ has become a national joke, but something has happened to us as a race that we have lost all sense of proportion or the ability to mask our feelings for the benefit of someone worse off. People screeching in pain because a baker has failed to make a ‘gay wedding cake’ and ignoring several homosexuals hurled to their death from a building in Syria; working themselves into a lather over several journalists shot dead in Paris and ignoring the thousands slaughtered on the same day in Africa.
‘My pain is more important than your pain’ – it’s the national anthem.
Where is the outcry and hysteria for children abused today?