All went well at the hospital. My endeavours to keep my hand warm
worked. As soon as I got into the car I put on my mittens & shoved my hand
inside my coat pocket. I left the mittens on until the nurse attempted the task
of getting the needle in. It was the same man as last time, but this time the
needle slipped straight in, no problem. Clearly I will have to remember that
trick each time I go for chemo. It worked.
I was somewhat bemused today when the doorbell went at 9am. I was in
the midst of peeling the spuds for dinner while I had a little time before the
arrival of the carer at 10 o’clock. I went to the door to find what looked
& sounded like a man who said he had been sent by the care agency. It was a
new face but I could recognise the company uniform worn. It turned out she had
been given 9am as the time to come.
Later on, over a mug of tea, she showed me a photo of herself ten
years before. At that stage she was a blonde bombshell. I can only assume she’s
having a sex change & is in transition at the moment. To me she seemed very
masculine with a deep male voice & in need of a daily facial shave. It was only when I was told the name I realised that the he was a she. She did
admit she had had problems with depression. Needless to say we did not discuss
her sexuality but I really do suspect she’s on male hormones in preparation to
taking on life in a male form. However, when I had got over the shock of her
appearance, she did turn out to be nice, caring person, who I would be happy to
see again. As she had been in the armed forces she certainly knew how to make
things shine – a thorough cleaner rather than a fast one. I’ve no complaints
about that.
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