The indignity of it!
Having attained the lofty age of 39, the adult phase of which has been entirely pyjama free, I now find myself the reluctant owner of not just one, but three new sets of pyjamas and, in addition, a stripy housecoat and two sensible looking pairs of slippers. These are already packed into a hold-all along with various other 'comfortable', lounge-about type clothes, a new toothbrush and an extra set of nail clippers. With 2 days to go before my admission, I'm rarely this prepared for anything.
It was immediately clear back in September, when I was first told I had multiple myeloma (I'll not flatter it with capitalisation), that a few things in life would change. Most of those anticipated changes I fully expected to resent, but none more so - or more surprising - than the premature imposition of middle-age, so detestably underlined by the wearing of pyjamas required by hospital stays. Apologies to all pre-middle-aged pyjama devotees; they are comfy, I agree, but I prefer to grid my (now rather bald, thanks to the last chemo) loins against fresh bedding. I did, briefly, contemplate a wee rebellion, perhaps seeking out some Bob The Builder or Thomas the Tank versions, but I figured the gesture would be seen through or, worse, I'd simply look a bit of an arse. M&S it was. Conservative. Striped.
And now, here I sit, two days before "I go in", cobbling together a blog (never thought I'd succumb to such a fad) that I hope will help keep anxious friends, family and creditors reassured of my continued progress towards good health as I undergo an ominous sounding "Autoglous Stem Cell Transplant" at Aberdeen Royal Infirmary. Tesco have just delivered the messages (groceries, to any non-Scot reader) which includes quite a number of bottles of Real Ale (which I will respectfully capitalise) and I'm left wondering how many would be too many between now and Monday, knowing full well they will be my last for a good many weeks.
I guess we're all different, those of us with this disease and those taking the stem cell transplant option. Each will find his or her own path through. But I hope my ramblings, as honest and detailed as I can muster, might prove helpful and informative for others facing the same journey.
My 'Oil Change', as one friend recently called it....
Joe, I'm glad you've succumbed to the 'fad' and started a blog. We've been feeling very far away from you and wishing we could be more a part of your life, so perhaps this will help a bit.
ReplyDeleteI remember having to go out and buy pajamas, housecoat, and slippers for my stay in hospital, too, to deliver the twins. I haven't touched the housecoat or slippers since, but surprisingly have fallen into pajama wearing. You might find you enjoy them - keep an open mind :-)
Wishing you the best of luck for the coming weeks, from our whole little family here in California.
Hey Joe, this is a good idea as you've been hard to get hold of recently. I like the oil change reference, that's quite clever!
ReplyDeleteBest of luck with this part of your treatment, we'll be watching your blog.