Sitting in a waiting room such as this one, can at first, be incredibly depressing. The uncomfortable, straight back bench¬type seats, and the outdated assortment of women's magazines only added to the effect. My first experiences were unpleasant and I was deeply grateful that my mother was with me. Others in the room were in various stages of ill health, caused by the disease, and their predicament both made me feel lucky and started me thinking that I really didn't understand what danger I was in. A full understanding was not far away.

After the first couple of clinic visits, I began to realise that this ritual was going to become a big part of our lives. And the characters that I shared this with were unforgettable. Their cheeriness and courage in the face of life-threatening illness, and against most unfavourable odds, were unbelievable. When on a given day someone was not there, my heart sank. None of these people survived to my knowledge.

The pharmacy was particularly annoying, especially those times when the day had been long, and I'd had chemotherapy. I knew that the vomiting would still occur at the allocated time, whether I was home or not. Dad had placed a mattress in the car for me to rest on the journey home as the waves of nausea grew. No seatbelt required. A long wait for tablets was frustrating, and scary. Luckily, the unthinkable never happened.

Around this time, April 1976, my parents were contacted by the social worker assigned to help leukaemia patients and their families. I had met this lady while I was in the ward, and I found her to be quite friendly and supportive. She was to play a major role in my worst time, not necessarily through any fault of hers.

Mum and Dad have always maintained that the support given to parents during that time, was far below that which was required. As parents trying to deal with the experience, with the incredible changes in their lives that followed, they felt quite alone. Not that the medical staff did not help all they could. But groups of people with common situations, such as those often found nowadays with cancer patients and their families, were not around to our knowledge in 1976. The medical terminology alone must have been dumbfounding.

When I finally tried to fully understand the disease, I received a huge shock.

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