Last Wednesday was a busy day for me, with appointments with Dr B (my gastroenterologist) and Dr P (medical oncologist), followed by a Zolodex implant. Fortunately the two specialists both work in the same building, part of Epworth Eastern’s new wing. The day oncology centre is in the adjacent building, which allowed all these appointments to be clustered.

First up was the consultation with Dr B. (I am seeing him to decide whether previous episodes of breathlessness were related to low iron.) FOB tests that I had completed for Dr B didn’t show anything untoward, i.e. no excess levels of blood being detected in the poo samples. A fasting blood test showed, as last time, that iron levels are OK, while ferritin levels are still on the low side. On learning that I was due to have my quarterly Zolodex implant, after seeing Dr P, he headed across to the day oncology unit to ask whether they could give me an iron infusion at the same time. (This would save me coming back on another date.) The plan is to see whether my ferritin results improve in my next blood test.

Next came Dr P. We had been expecting an increase in the PSA, and so it proved — 87, up by 24. Last time, Dr P had suggested that my PSA had been increased by having recently had the radiation treatment. Maybe the effects of the latter are still hanging around. Anyway, I complained that he had left me hanging on the Devil’s number, so called by Australian cricketers who regard it as an unlucky score, being 13 short of 100. (He was fully across this — doubtless another cricket tragic.) However, he emphasised that I looked “fantastic”. As ever, it is the trajectory of the increase that matters, etc. etc. So while the scores are not doubling from one to the next, it is steady as she goes regarding treatment.

Finally came the combined iron infusion and Zolodex implant, both carried out in the day oncology unit. Although this is in the adjacent building, there is no walkway — patients travelling from the old to the new parts of Epworth Eastern have to travel down to the carpark, then take a special lift that travels to the old building. There was a couple traversing this route, an older chap and someone who I guessed was his son. This proved to be the case; the other cancer patient was having immunotherapy. I had an initial hiccup in that I had neglected to have a RAT Covid test the previous day, then photograph the result on my phone. (I’d just clean forgotten all about it — an example of Covid complacency.) After someone ferreted out a complete test kit, I did the business then waited the required ten minutes for the (expected) negative result. After this, the my double-header treatment was done in a very efficient way. The iron infusion was started first; while that was going in, the Zolodex was implanted.

Everyone is digesting the referendum results, but I will finish on a positive note. Dr L, my opthalmologist, whom I saw last week, has cleared me to drive. This takes a lot of pressure off my beloved in terms of ferrying me around, and allows me to do some grocery-fetching and stuff like that. The freedom to get out and about my own steam is not to be underestimated.