I have secondaries - no NED on last scan - but extreme pain in my back and hips.
I had MRI and it’s not mets.
So I was given pain relief and suggested I speak to chiropractor or physio.
Today I contacted the chiro who previously treated me- her response was that the pain was probably because I am overweight and that I should try losing weight and that chiro can’t help with that.
Alright she doesn’t know that I am currently having issues with eating and am losing weight without trying and the hospital team are having concerns about this. But I feel dreadful right now.
I want to tell her loudly just how bad she made me feel.
I’ve got a “better” one!, after my diagnosis and getting myself in a bit of a tizz about the possibility of loosing a boob, one of my mates said “ it doesn’t really matter, you don’t wear low cut tops”
People don’t always know what to say, but I thought that was pretty crass!!
On my way to wig appointment and quite stressed out about that when I was 42 years old, some lady on her mobility scooter puffing away on a fag cut across my path as I was going into the hairdressers bald as anything and whilst puffing smoke in my face said to, “ good luck with whatever you are dealing with” I almost choked on the smoke from the fag. To add insult to injury my mother who was with me said “ ah that’s nice of her”. I was not in the best of places in my head that day and just snapped “what blowing fag smoke in the face of a cancer patient who has never smoked!” Oh I still remember that 9 years on.
I agree with you . Why make you feel worse than you already do? How are you now?
I have been overweight myself and I found praise when I lost a pound was better than telling me what I already knew i.e. I was fat.
I went to weight watchers run by a very nice man who had been overweight and been made to feel unattractive. But nasty people are out there all the time.
At least the people that made him feel bad identified the fact they should be avoided like the plague.
Seagulls
now 10 st 10 and creeping up after Christmas festivities. I was 13 stone 6 I think at my heaviest. At my lightest a few years ago I was 9 st 8 but I looked gaunt.
While trying to be cannulated for an MRI, a delightful chirpy nurse came along and did it in one go. She looked at my file and said “Oh, you have a terminal illness. That must be hard.” The word ‘terminal’ has never been used, I’ve never asked for a prognosis but I’m not daft. I know the outcome. But I was shocked to hear it come from a nurse whose only job was to find a vein and it threw me. I’m usually quick with a pithy retort but nothing’s quick about me now. I can think of countless put downs now but at the time just muttered “You deal with what you have to.” Aaargh!