Waiting...

What's it like waiting in an oncology clinic? Many of you will find out. Today was an interesting one. 3½ hours of waiting because prints from some of my scans went awol. And I knew it wouldn't be good, so there was a lingering sense of doom.
This wasn't helped by having to sit next to some fuckwit with "worry" beads -- those Greek wooden beads on a string that men play with between their fingers -- who was rattling said device very slowly and in perpetuity... His selfish success in attempting to relieve his own concerns succeeded in pissing off everyone else, but somehow made the impending appointment less intolerable. It was a relief to get away from him into the conversation about the hole my oncologist wants surgeons to drill into my jugular.
It wasn't that bad I suppose. I knew I'd have spread at some point and it appears on the face of it that this is possibly the least bad metastatic disease might be. So I now have to wait up to six weeks while they debate whether it's feasible to conduct a biopsy on some lymph nodes that are half a centimetre across and then they'll probably stick me on some inteferon therapy.
So more waiting then, but at least that twat with the beads isn't there.