Category Archives: Chemotherapy

Threeeeeee!

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

Now we are rolling! Thirteen down and three left to go.


BAM: appointment made with Canadian oncologist

BAM: ticket bought for flight home

BAM: Christmas presents under the tree

BAM: Air Canada troubles sorted

In the end it was my Dad who called back Air Canada. That’s not to say I couldn’t do it – but if I had called the UK office I would have gotten the same woman (I always get her) and would have felt the same stress. My dad instead called the Canadian customer service line and received a basket of apologies; the representative said that they shouldn’t be asking ‘why, why, why’ when a customer requests a wheelchair. Like I said before, the fact that we even ask ought to be enough.

Honestly, Air Canada has been a helpful company in the past, which is exactly why I had expected better treatment. When my mom needed to extend her compassion ticket to stay for my first chemo session, they went out of their way to help.

When I arrive at the airport, I’ll ask about a ‘meet and assist’, which means someone will come along to help me get through the airport (UK lady didn’t mention that!). It’s booked and ready to go. So Dad totally gets a gold star for helping smooth things out.

The snow is still on the ground. Chemo went well – I had my treatment yesterday instead of today. We arrived for a blood test, and because so many people had cancelled the lead nurse suggested I stay on for chemo as well. Once my blood results were returned (and my chemotherapy drugs released) I was taken to a spare room; this place was empty except for one other woman. It was such a quiet chemo room. The nurses flitted in and out, hooking me up to the machine, starting the drip, giving the anti-sickness, and finally attaching the chemotherapy. It took an hour longer than expected – Zsolt chased after our booked taxi as it drove away (not really, but it did drive away despite his arriving on time . . . taxi competition was fierce!). But the nurses were understaffed and I was tucked away in a deserted room; it was a wonder they remembered me at all!

Yesterday was chemo as usual, no surprises or interesting stories. The highlight of my treatment was the nurse popping round to change my drip and getting a shock when I appeared from beneath a pile of jackets on my chair. So that was a laugh, but otherwise it was totally uneventful.

Today Zsolt and I are hiding in the apartment. We’ve been watching cars pass by and seeing how they manage the ice. England and ice do not mix.

Still tired, still recovering, and so I cannot write anything interesting. This happens time to time.

Three left, baby! Thanks goodness for that.

Oh! Next week I have my radiotherapy consultation. That’ll certainly be something to write about.

Snow day!

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Life, Treatment by

Last night it snowed in Southampton, and today it’s still on the ground. This winter miracle has stacked up over fifteen centimetres and warranted a university closure just as I was due in to work. As normal, southern England is shut down by a mild snow storm . . .

Yay!!

It’s so beautiful outside, the trees are coated in white and cold fluff. If I had the energy (and the equipment) I’d cross country ski through the common and have a hot chocolate at the Cowherds. I’d throw snowballs at my husband and complain when he returned fire. I’d boil maple syrup then spread it over snow.

Reality: I took a bus to the hospital. Wohoo!

But even if I didn’t do all those lovely winteresque activities, this change in scenery is good for the soul. White, fresh and beautiful, covering all the grey;  I really like snow.

Happy snow day, everyone.

Customer service

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Chemotherapy, Travel Log by

Hmm, I just called up Air Canada to arrange wheelchair assistance through the airport.

First, I must admit – it feels strange asking for a wheelchair. Wheelchairs should be for people who are really sick, or much older, or unable to WALK. I’m a 28 year old woman and I can walk . . . I just can’t walk for very long. My legs start feeling thick, I get tipsy (literally tipping over), and of course there’s fatigue.

I can understand someone’s surprise at my needing a wheelchair. But what I do not understand is being made to feel like an idiot for asking.

Calling the UK Air Canada customer service line today, I requested a wheelchair. The conversation went something like this (following the conversation about my reservation number, which was difficult in itself but quite possibly my fault):

Me: When I fly on the 14th, I’ll have just finished chemotherapy and will be really exhausted. Is there any kind of assistance I could have through the airport?

Lady: What kind of assistance do you want?

Me: Maybe a wheelchair or something?

Lady: Oh, wheelchair assistance.

I think the idea clicked into her head here. Before she wasn’t certain where to place me.

Lady: Is there any medical reason you need a wheelchair?

Me: I’ll have just finished chemotherapy and will be exhausted. I can walk a little, but not for long.

Lady: But is there any medical reason?

This is where I start to feel like an idiot.

Me: I’ll just have finished chemotherapy. I’ll be exhausted.

Lady: So you’ll need a wheelchair because you’ll be exhausted.

What is going on here? How many times do I need to say ‘chemotherapy’ and ‘exhausted’? Thinking about this now, I probably should have said: ‘I’m in the middle of chemotherapy’ – but totally forgot that fact during our conversation. But regardless, to have just finished chemotherapy and to be in the middle is essentially the same, because the effects are still felt a week or two (or more) after treatment.

Lady: I’ll put in a booking— sorry, a request for a wheelchair.

Me: (in my head: a request?) So I won’t know till I arrive if I have assistance?

Lady: That’s right.

At this point I want to cry, and don’t stand up for myself. Instead I say ‘fine’ because I feel like such an ass for even having asked.

Isn’t that crazy? Being challenged really throws me off; I totally lose my train of thought and can only say, ‘yeah, okay, fine’ like a stupid lemming. Mind you, if Zsolt is being challenged and asks for my help – no problem, I can tackle that issue. I’m a tough woman in other people’s battles. Not so great with my own.

Essentially, because I didn’t receive any sympathy from the Air Canada woman, I didn’t know how to handle myself. She treated my request like a form to be filled, which isn’t horrible, but at the same time – I’m not a form, I’m a person. My medical reason (apart from having been stated four times) goes beyond ‘exhaustion and chemotherapy’  – it extends to the fact that I need help, and I need it badly enough to ask.

Who asks for a wheelchair unless they need the bloody chair?

But she’ll put in a request.

Bah! It pissed me off enough to write, and maybe it’ll piss me off enough to call back later, when I feel less sorry for my passive self.

Though honestly, I had expected better.