Cancergiggles is an idiot's guide to accepting, living with, laughing at and dying from cancer. The very, very last bit I can't be absolutely sure of, but then who the hell can? I could have written some beautifully crafted, grammatically correct essays but I hope you will understand, that when I say "I don't have a lot of time" I mean it far more literally than you do. I just wanted scribble a few thoughts to maybe light a spark in people - and then it became a book about Cancer, Life, Death, Illness and Politics. ISBN 0955198801

 

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copyright © 2004 Cass Brown

copyright © 2004
Cass Brown
All rights reserved

CURIOUS WIZARDS

posted Friday, 9 July 2004

CURIOUS WIZARDS

Out of the blue last Friday, I had a call from Wizard Centre reception telling me that the Wizards Apprentice would like me to attend the clinic on Monday morning for a chat.

Looking back I am curious about my reaction to the phone call. It is reasonable to assume that most people getting a "come in the next time the shop is open" call from a cancer clinic would be concerned, frightened and in something of an apprehension panic. I actually thought, "bugger it – a 40 mile round trip – still it will be nice to see them all again". This could be a result of the fact that I have attended many, many clinics and I’m still breathing, or possibly that Wizard Centre has such a laid back atmosphere. People smile and laugh; the waiting room is like a family get together with a nice lady offering you drinks, although the Wizard Centre budget isn’t allowed to stretch to a decent Chardonnay. Apparently they squander their money on life saving drugs, nukes and suchlike due to Government restrictions – when will they learn? It is tradition for a female dragon to guard the entrance to a Wizards castle, but at Wizard Centre they have replaced her with someone who has a lovely smile and a wicked sense of humour. The nurses and assistants are all similarly disposed and I firmly believe that 90% of the work of the clinic has been achieved by them by the time you actually get to see a real Wizard. Atmosphere and attitude are by far the least invasive forms of surgery and, I believe, amongst the most effective.

The waiting was terrible. For almost two minutes I sat there looking forward to my chat with the Wizard’s Apprentice and then I was unexpectedly ushered to the head Cancer Wizard’s area by his long suffering helper. I didn’t have time to sit down before the door to the inner sanctum was replaced by CW himself and I was duly invited in. I get what I think is a pretty unique service from this clinic. I am monitored 24/7 by them and only need an occasional visit when they need cheering up. This is thanks to a new technique which has been developed by Wizard Centre and set to revolutionise patient care and reduce health funding by 50%. They log on to Cancergiggles. If I am regularly posting articles and being funny, they figure I am pretty much OK so they can concentrate on the more needy cases. Seriously, let’s look at this. For those patients who have a) Internet access and b) the right attitude, why not get them or their carers to do a daily blog with details of how they are – feeling better/worse –pains here or there etc. Whilst this could never replace, in person consultations, could it not allow overstretched Wizards to more accurately prioritize them by looking at a screen for a couple of minutes to decide whether a routine visit was necessary? As I have been developing this idea for almost ten minutes, I clearly haven’t thought it through completely but I think there is a spark of an idea which could be used. I wouldn’t mind being a guinea pig for a while and envisage something like:-

Thursday 8 July. Feeling same as yesterday. Went jogging at 7am but only managed 2 miles.

If CW saw this on the screen he would have an ambulance with me in minutes because he would quickly be able to diagnose that I was hallucinating - and all this without him leaving his desk or donning a rubber glove. The service can’t get much efficient than that! I will work on this idea.

The Wizard examined me and we had a very convivial chat. It seems that my anti coag injections may be dissipating the blood clot because the alternative route blood vessels which look like bruising seem to be vanishing. Either that or I have trained my body and brain to use less oxygen; on reflection I suspect the former is more likely. We decided that once I have had my Borg implant removed we would get back to the original plot of looking at the cancer situation. There is a very important point here. I said "We" decided, because I have always refused to have the decisions made for me by medical professionals even though I sensibly listen to their advice with great care. CW is of a like mind and the resulting feeling of joint responsibility is a boost to confidence in everyone’s abilities. Nothing scares me more than "experts" who know everything and have an infallible solution for every problem. They are liars, dangerous and should not be trusted. Give me a human being every time.