They took out the last drip that morning. I had gone nearly 48 hours without needing IV pain relief or anti-nausea drugs, and there was no way I could listen to any more talks about chemotherapy and what to be expecting in 6 weeks time! With more than a little persuasion from me, and given that we lived only near by, Michael agreed to let me go home.The nurses, including Mary, helped in what became fondly known as "operation great escape"! As soon as the consultant left, I was told to wait for the oncology nurse to come back and have another chat.... Bless her, she was such a kindhearted and beautiful person, but I think she felt I hadn't accepted the cancer diagnosis as I didn't cry much in front of her! As a result, she came by daily, sometimes twice daily, to try get me to open up. She was right in a way, I was blocking the whole thing out as I could only cope with small steps at the time. Professionally of course I knew what was coming down the line, but I just was not ready to discuss it. I could not take one more of those talks!
So Fergus was called, nurses took out drains and cannulas, junior doctors were called to write up scripts and Avril was parked up on the footpath outside the door! I refused the wheelchair to the car and instead legged it out (ok....more like hobbled to be truthful!) with Fergus's help and we were off! There were lots of hugs and well wishes from the nurses, and even a few tears from some of the nurses! I've promised to come back when it's all over and visit!
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