22/10/12

22/10/12



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Today is the first of many procedures for me at Poole Hospital relating to this illness, it’s strange to call it an illness when I don’t actually feel ill (not physically ill that is but I am oh so very aware of becoming mentally ill).

For instance, I wanted to watch CH4 on Friday night and their “STAND UP 2 CANCER” campaign, I had bought myself and Rebecca a, “S^2C” hoody and I was looking forward to watching a night of comedy, especially as it is all in aid of something that is most definitely in the forefront of my mind and is such a worthy cause.

So, after helping to settle the kids in bed I got ready with a cup of coffee, sat down and put the telly on. Realising that I had missed the start of the show, never mind, I caught about 3 minutes of the presenters and then, I couldn’t watch any more. I had to change channel. It’s not that I was shocked or horrified, usually when I have watched this kind of show (Children in Need, Comic Relief, etc.)and I know that I have done my bit, given to the charity in question, I can happily sit through the stories about why they have come together on that evening, no matter how distressing, sad and heart wrenching they can be, I can still enjoy a great night of entertainment.

But not this night, being in the situation that I am in and this night being about what it was about, it was like it was being thrust down my throat “you have cancer” and sometimes it can feel as though I get enough of that every time I get asked, “you o.k.?” and “how you doing?”.

However I do understand peoples want to check up on me and their need to ask about my condition, this is where I must be becoming mentally unfit as this can upset me, because in my head it’s like I see these people pointing at me and holding a sign up saying in large print “THIS GUY HAS CANCER, HE’S GOING TO DIE.” and I know, that this is not their intention.

I’m not asking for people to stop asking, I’m saying please don’t be offended or surprised by my answer, especially if you catch me at the bottom of my rollercoaster of emotion.



Still back to today and the imminent removal of teeth… if I was looking forward to this, I know for sure that I would be mentally unbalanced and I would be shouting “COMMIT ME NOW!” but I am not.

The last time I woke up in Poole Hospitals recovery room I was in so much pain they dosed me too the hilt with morphine and I completely lost 24 hours, I can’t afford that today, I’ve got a meeting tomorrow where I get to see my scan results a chance to visualize which bits are cancer. I might try to get pictures!



Will it be wrong to ask the surgeon for my teeth back? I want to see if the tooth fairy is real…





This is me Steve Royal. Husband to Rebecca.




Have a week.