‘Your Lucky Star is here’

23/March.2010 Churchill Hospital (Oxford)

Danni got an emergency appointment at the Churchill Hospital at 8am today for PETCT scan.
It was only confirmed yesterday afternoon.
She left for the scan earlier.
I took Ryan to nursery and joined her later.
Danni childish begged me to go with her. ‘You are my lucky star. Every time when I am with you, things are doing well.’
I managed to text her and pass the words via nurse before they wheeled her into the nuclear zone.

According to Wikipedia:‘The first hospital on the Churchill site was built in 1940, with the intention of providing medical aid to people injured as a result of air raids during the Second World War. This proved unnecessary, and the building was leased to the United States Army medical services, who were relocating from Basingstoke. The US Army left the hospital at the end of the war and it was taken over by the local council and reopened as a conventional hospital in January 1946. In April 1994 the hospital joined the newly-formed Oxford Radcliffe Hospitals NHS Trust along with the John Radcliffe Hospital and the Radcliffe Infirmary. As well as being an important centre for the treatment of cancer patients, the Churchill specialises in kidney transplants, diabetes and endocrinology, oncology, dermatology, haemophilia, infectious diseases, chest medicine, medical genetics and palliative care.’

A plaque in the American garden, located in front of the main entrance explained why there are flags of both Britain and United States are flying.
You cant judge a hospital by its appearance and density of crowd. But it did offer a reassurance like a small voice saying ‘yes, this is a world class advanced cancer research hospital.’

I walked through a vast, empty corridor to the Nuclear Medicine Department where a PETCT scanner is hiding behind some very thick walls.

Danni later told me there are 10 PET CT scanners around the country outside London. London has got 5.

Patients, suspects and their partners are waiting quietly at the waiting area.

A tiny TV hung on a corner, playing property-auction-then-renovation-to-make money on BBC2.

I thought that sort of programmes only played at Channel 4.

Nevertheless it is miles better than magic drug daytime TV ad in China we suffered from two years ago. Have I told you the magic drug to make-your-nan-looked-20s; having-sex-40-times-a-day; or throw-away-the-wheelchair?

Nobody is watching. I occasionally got distracted by TV ad forecast, featuring Richard Hammond’s enthusiastic voice.

A gush of water from the drinking tap hitting the cup. It made the man sitting next to it jumped.

It is quiet, but not so quiet in mind to everyone.