As the saying goes Tom Waits for no man. No that sounds wrong, *time* waits for no man. Better.
I've just spent the last two days waiting. Waiting to see my GP. Waiting in clinic to see my team of doctors, waiting to give blood samples and then agonisingly waiting for the results to see if I needed a transfusion. Waiting for the phone call. Luckily my platelets and haemoglobin counts have held up. I get to avoid having that blood work. So all the waiting was worth while. Another week of freedom.
What all this waiting did was give myself to ruminate on time and what we do with it. Time seems to run slowest for me sitting on an arse numbing chair in a medical institution. But I have been doing a lot of that recently.
Time is of the essence when it comes to cancer. Pretty much all cancers are more treatable and the outcomes a lot more favourable if detected early. Hence the national breast screening programme. Male cancers are getting a pretty good success rate also but only if they know the damn thing is there. This is the reasoning behind the great "check em lads" campaign. A lot of blokes are notorious about avoiding their doctors. Its like there's a force field of kryptonite around the surgery which only women can penetrate.
I waited too long before going to see my GP. I had a cough which I put down to working and playing too hard. Also in the back of my mind there was the slightest of fears that my cancer had returned and I didn't want to deal with that. Which is the most stupidest thought in the world. I am lucky that I have a great GP who literally forced me to Kings for a chest x-ray. The tumour was growing so rapidly a couple of weeks later it would have blocked my Aortic valve and I would have suffered a massive stroke.
There's a well known pop-stat which says that married men live longer than single men, and married women live shorter than unmarried. I think I know why. Nagging. A lot of men avoid anything medical until the alternative is too much to bear. So the phrase "Right, okay if I go to the doctors will you shut up about it!?" literally saves hundreds of lives a year. Women though get knackered from all that pestering and just long for a decent lie down.
So if you have any lumps, bumps or a cough you can't shift and feel knackered all the time, go see your bloody doctor. It will in all likelihood be absolutely nothing and you can go down the pub with a huge sigh of relief. You may think you don't have the time, but the alternative is sitting for hours in some hospital clinic feeling your arse go numb.
I'm currently..Listening to 'Disappointing' by John Grant off the new album 'Grey tickles, Black Preasure' ..Watching Cradle to Grave, Danny Baker's sitcom of growing up in Bermondsey...Reading about an underground bunker at Goldsmiths.