Hospital time

It’s hospital time again.

Today the Fox is off to the Queen Vic here in Morecambe. That’s for physiotherapy. So far he can’t say the exercises he’s been doing has improved anything very much. He’s persevering regardless, in the knowledge that last time it took a while before any benefit could be felt.

Next week it will be my turn, only I’m off to the Gastroenterology Department at the Royal Lancaster Hospital in Lancaster. I expect all will be well. Since my episode of pancreatitis they’ve kept an eye on me in case the scarring on my pancreas that resulted turns cancerous. It’s more a precaution than anything else, but as someone whose has had cancer once already & survived it only because I took the offered scan, & who comes from a family with a lot of cancer in it, I’m grateful for any checks. Last time I wouldn’t have known about it if I hadn’t had the scan. By the time I’d felt any pain it would have been too late to do anything about it. I suppose, too, I will be reassured as my mother died from pancreatic cancer so it’s one form of cancer I’m particularly anxious about.

We’ve still not got to Kendal for that wedding present & attire. The weather has been too bad. Perhaps we will find time & sufficient energy the day we go into Lancaster & have a look round there. Neither Lancaster or Morecambe are a great places for dresses but you never know. Otherwise I can see it being left for another couple of weeks as we recover from our hospital trips.