I was at my Dr's as usual & she informed me about a treatment on offer to some HCV patients, she had done a little homework on my behalf, enough to paint the broad strokes necessary to paint a picture that offered a glimpse of hope, where before there was none, a cure or remedy,(though I give in to the fact that it can't truly be called a cure,as a cure heals all & not some 50%), but hell I'll take 50% of a possible viral purge against nil chance of a cure, any day of the week...Hell yes !
She would set the wheels in motion & I'd be informed of the what, where,when & why,by post in due course.
The last time I was at the hospital regarding my hep c, was some 10years earlier, when I had my botched biopsy, the results of which where lost.
Since then, my mother had become unsteady on her feet & no longer able to look after herself & my son. Let's just say, this was my 1st great turning point in my life, meeting the challenge with what turned out to be a natural flair for nursing. From that point on I became a health care professional. Exploring our rights, first & foremost was the patients charter,( which entitles anyone, the same health care provided in hospital, at your own home, provided you have sufficient support in your home environment & with me there, she did).
Our charter was enacted & we had a district nursing team, who would attend to her from time to time. It started daily, but I soon took over & within no time they just came to resupply us with dressings & prescriptions,they could see I was more than capable & it freed them up to get more done, everyone was happy.
This is how I became really close to my Dr, as she was in effect mum's doctor by proxy. I'd see her but just spend my allotted time talking over mum's bouts of illness & any hassles I had with the nurses...She was brilliant. She gave me my first taste of what it could be like to be a decent honest caring person, by how she praised me, gave her time to it, without a single sigh. She backed me up for 10 years, doing this.
So it was with great sadness, she told me that she was leaving the practice. Her that had taken me on,when nobody could get a methadone script, her that listened so patiently, her that watched me grow from a wild careless being, into a fine, caring, youngish man. There would be a while before she left & we agreed it would be fitting for me to have got to treatment, by this point.
Looking back she must have been very proud of me, as I had validated her decision to supply me with a maintenance prescription , in the vein hope that one day I might become a responsible member of society. Also, by supporting me she had inadvertently saved mother from having to go into hospital, which would have finished her off, a fact I have no doubt about. Instead we had 10 more priceless years together, mum Jr & I. keeping the social services at bay with my new found knowledge of the human rights act & the doctors actions, helped me secure a dignified way of living for us at a time when we were at the relative mercy of the state.
Looking back that was quite a coup I pulled off. The nurses & any other service could only attend by appointment. Social services wanted to have a "care assistant" attend twice daily ( when they finally got a chance to intervene, that was cut to twice a week, after quoting the human rights act ( right to privacy in our homes). Mothers Doctor, who had advised she be taken to hospital for tests, was over-ruled, by me ( it was agreed Mother would go for tests only if her bed-sore got worse. It got better). After the doctor left that afternoon, my half-sister, who I had a very difficult relationship with, remarked...Peter, I admire you for what you just did there, I regret a lot of the advice I followed from doctors, never thinking to stand up to them or question the instruction. She knew my actions were only in mum's interest & understood mum would prefer to die here today, than in hospital in six months time.
Mothers doctor said to me, after mother had passed...Well you got what you wanted, she stayed at home, it was a feeble gesture on her part. No we weren't the best of friends, so it was understandable in that part. The fact was, no, I got what Mother would have wanted.
Mother passed away in Jan 07. Her death allowed me a shot at a longer life, a trade she would make gladly.
I now remember that, it was after that, my Dr told me of her intention to leave the practice. Typing this sentence makes me wonder if that was when she felt able to leave,( I've no doubt, she'd be trying to tie up as many loose ends as possible ) she knew I depended on her so much. Hence her suggestion of treatment, now I could devote my time & effort to it. I owed it to my Mother & son to give it a go, but could I keep it together,
well we'd soon find out...
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