We leave the island early and belt back up the A3 to the Marsden to meet the latest walk-on extra in our lives - Frank Sarran their radiotherapy consultant. Lifetimes ago we had a short meeting with him to discuss the merits of radiotherapy post-operatively in Rose's leg - when we said goodbye that day as he shook our hands he said 'lets hope we never meet again - things will not be going well if we do'. Funny how these lines stick in your head.
He's delightful as they all are and extremely tactful and sensitive in Rose's presence - she is bored within minutes and goes to find the clowns and he can get down to business. Five treatments over five days, no promises but might bring some pain relief. And can we start tomorrow. Aaagghh we have left the dog on the island, the house unlocked and the neighbour doing a quick beach walk with him. We don't even have a toothbrush with us and are booked on the 5 o'clock ferry back to the Isle of Wight. Resist the urge to point out that a phone call to tell us they had started booking the sessions already would have been helpful and realise that we are so much more in control than we used to be. We say we will come for the pre-treatment scan in the morning and stay in London but that treatment will have to wait till next week. Which of course is fine. An hour later we are bizarrely back in Dulwich just waiting to get the hell out of here again.
