The mobile started buzzing and belting out The Cure's Just Like Heaven... a call from a private number... shields up!
Adrenaline level set to optimum, I made ready to deliver the usual tirade to a witless caller whose auto-dialler had selected my number to try his/her luck at peddling a management service for the debt that I don't owe, or for compensation for the accident that I not (yet) had, or for claiming the PPI refund for which we don't qualify.
But no, there was something wrong. The caller didn't want to speak to Sheila or to Raj as he/she usually does, the caller knew my real name. I wasn't about to confirm it without knowing who was calling, so I asked who I was talking to.
It was Roxanne, a Staff Nurse calling from Ward 41. Shields down!
She was checking that all was still OK for Wednesday's Day Ward appointment and that I'd still got my PICC-line in so that they can start the next cycle of chemo early when they admit me sometime on Thursday. We had a bit of a chat, I assured her that all was OK at this end, and she didn't try to flog me life assurance.
I'm really not used to this prior planning malarkey. If they're not careful, it might catch on!
Thanks for the call, Roxy. Music to my ears. We'll see you on Thursday.
THE SMALL(ish) PRINT... (updated 23/07/2016)
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