If the nurse comes in …….

This is Maggie’s Oxford, a drop-in centre for those affected by cancer - patients, families and friends - built in the grounds of the Churchill Hospital. There are a number of these centres around the UK, the first having opened in Edinburgh in 1996.

Maggie Keswick Jencks lived with advanced cancer for two years. During that time she used her knowledge and experience to create, with her husband, architect Charles Jencks, a blueprint for a new type of care.
(wikipedia)

One of the most distinctive features of Maggie’s Centres is their architectural pedigree; designers include Zaha Hadid and Richard Rogers. Maggie Jencks believed in the power of buildings to uplift people and each of the centres is visually striking, both inside and out.

Anniemay is not impressed however; “It looks as if someone’s boarded up the windows.

These Centres are built around Maggie’s belief that people should not “lose the joy of living in the fear of dying”.

This is something we try to hold onto when we come to Oxford for the results of my latest scan. It’s hard though. Cancer is scary, there are just no two ways about it. We go through the gamut of emotions; indifference, denial, then morbid curiosity followed by unadulterated fear. And we do this twice a year.

When my name is called, we always look to see if there’s a nurse with the oncologist. Because a nurse signifies bad news. These nurses are known as the Angels of Death. She (and it always seems to be a she) is there to pick up the pieces, to make arrangements for whatever has to happen next, after the oncologist has spoken.

But if the oncologist is on his/her own, then it’s usually OK. This morning the oncologist is alone.....

“your scan is excellent. There’s some damage from the radiotherapy but no sign of the disease.” Whoo hoo

And that’s it; in and out in 10 minutes. We can now relax for the next six months. And think about tomorrow. And I mean that literally, not euphemistically. Tomorrow is the voice operation.