Vicki comes to collect me today. She arrives at 8.15. We decide to go via the sea front.
We arrive 15 minutes early, to find out that B1 is 'on time'.
Hooray, we say.
In comes our new friend from Hurstpierpoint. yesterday. I introduce Vicki to her.
Hello! we cry.
Hello! she cries. She is beaming from ear to ear.
Your last day, I say.
Yes, yes, she says. And I have my son's birthday party tonight!
We all beam some more. In comes another lady and her driver (we all get driven here - part of the instructions). She looks exhausted and thin. She sits.
We chat a bit more with our friend, passing the time most agreeably.
The thin lady chats with her friend about shopping.
Have you got milk, asks her friend.
Yes, yes. And bread. She looks tired. As if such decisions were too much.
Two other people arrive and settle down on the other side of the room. We all smile at each other. My new friend greets one of them, and we find out that this person finishes the following week.
How's it been? I ask.
OK, she say, but I'm very tired now.
I seem to hear this a lot. This is spoken over me by others who have been through RT, or by others who haven't. 'You'll get very tired." "You'll get very sore." "You'll be knackered." Etc.
We'll see.
We wait some more.
My name is called. Through the doors I go. An old hand now. The nurse passes me my robe.
You forgot to take this home, she says.
Oh! I say, I didn't realise. Do I do that everyday?
Yes, she says.
I'm left to get ready.
And so I strip off once more, whack on the robe, open the door and wait. Now that I know what will happen, I feel confident and relaxed.
I'm called in. There's the machine. Good old B1. And a new nurse.
I'm settled onto the bed. Nurses saying numbers and marking my skin once more.
They leave the room.
The machine whirrs and clicks. I remember the picture from the previous day about Jesus and this time we're dancing more wildly together, round and round. But oh, so much fun!
Before I know it, the nurses are back in, and I am helped down.
Do you need the step? they ask. As I leap off the bed.
No, I laugh. I'm down!
And through I go, where Vicki is waiting.
Wow, she says. That was quick.
And off we go. Back via the sea front.
We have DEFINITELY found the right route. Hooray.
We arrive 15 minutes early, to find out that B1 is 'on time'.
Hooray, we say.
In comes our new friend from Hurstpierpoint. yesterday. I introduce Vicki to her.
Hello! we cry.
Hello! she cries. She is beaming from ear to ear.
Your last day, I say.
Yes, yes, she says. And I have my son's birthday party tonight!
We all beam some more. In comes another lady and her driver (we all get driven here - part of the instructions). She looks exhausted and thin. She sits.
We chat a bit more with our friend, passing the time most agreeably.
The thin lady chats with her friend about shopping.
Have you got milk, asks her friend.
Yes, yes. And bread. She looks tired. As if such decisions were too much.
Two other people arrive and settle down on the other side of the room. We all smile at each other. My new friend greets one of them, and we find out that this person finishes the following week.
How's it been? I ask.
OK, she say, but I'm very tired now.
I seem to hear this a lot. This is spoken over me by others who have been through RT, or by others who haven't. 'You'll get very tired." "You'll get very sore." "You'll be knackered." Etc.
We'll see.
We wait some more.
My name is called. Through the doors I go. An old hand now. The nurse passes me my robe.
You forgot to take this home, she says.
Oh! I say, I didn't realise. Do I do that everyday?
Yes, she says.
I'm left to get ready.
And so I strip off once more, whack on the robe, open the door and wait. Now that I know what will happen, I feel confident and relaxed.
I'm called in. There's the machine. Good old B1. And a new nurse.
I'm settled onto the bed. Nurses saying numbers and marking my skin once more.
They leave the room.
The machine whirrs and clicks. I remember the picture from the previous day about Jesus and this time we're dancing more wildly together, round and round. But oh, so much fun!
Before I know it, the nurses are back in, and I am helped down.
Do you need the step? they ask. As I leap off the bed.
No, I laugh. I'm down!
And through I go, where Vicki is waiting.
Wow, she says. That was quick.
And off we go. Back via the sea front.
We have DEFINITELY found the right route. Hooray.
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