I’m sat in the waiting room for the medical oncology clinic to hear the results of my latest scans - regular, six monthly surveillance to check if the cancer has come back. The first time I sat in this waiting room was back in April 2021. I wasn’t scared so much as confused. I hadn’t had a biopsy yet and nothing had been confirmed. The oncologist (who turned out to be one of the top five doctors in the world for my particular cancer) started off by saying ‘I suppose you know why you’re here.’ I replied that I didn’t, actually, that nothing had been confirmed. He replied that they were about 80% sure. I was immediately reassured that they were getting things in motion so that they could act quickly when it was confirmed. 

Ever since then, I’ve actually enjoyed being (usually for at least an hour) in this particular waiting room. I know that I’m being well cared for. I know that if they suspect any little thing, they book in extra scans to catch anything early. So far there have been two occasions where something didn’t look quite right and both have turned out to be nothing. I know that if the cancer does come back, that they have a plan to treat it. Most importantly, I know I’m in good hands. 

And I like the other patients. There’s something comforting about knowing that other people are in a similar boat - we’re not alone. I’ve never met an unkind person here. Heaven knows what others are going through, but everyone is well-mannered and kind. Plus, being here gets me away from work for a bit and allows me a bit of time to think, and sometimes write, like right now. 


Scans all clear! Back again in six months time.