While I was still under the care of the local Breast Unit, I was deemed bonkers enough to require further support. And trust me, it was necessary to appear more than a little off the wall. I am ok with this. If ever being slightly mad was a sane response to a situation, then surely receiving a diagnosis of cancer is the perfect time.
The further support came in the guise of Complementary Therapy. The conversation I had with the Captain about it went as follows:
I’ve been referred for Complementary Therapy
Really? How exciting!
slightly surprised: I was expecting scepticism …
Why ever would I be sceptical? I think it’s marvellous that people are going to be nice to you.
confused: Nice to me?
Yes. You know, like: You look fantastic; I think you’re lovely; You have an incredible mind; I love the colour of your shoes; (And then, because the Captain is the Captain) Your tits are amazing!
Complementary Therapy that is complimentary. And all on the NHS. Marvellous.
I had a planning session today. Lots of things were on offer but we have settled on six sessions of reflexology. I have been promised more interventions should the hot flushes get unbearable once I begin hormone treatment. Which has not yet actually been settled upon but is looking more than likely. That settled I came away with a relaxation cd and two sniffer sticks. Which are exactly like Vicks inhalers. Only without the Vicks. These are filled with an individual blend of aromatherapy oils. I have one to snort as I drop off to sleep and another to help with anxiety. It was all pretty amazing.