Lizzie’s nearly recovered from her chemo and Covid (how come Covid is the one with the capital C, btw? Doesn’t chemotherapy – and, come to think of it, cancer – deserve one?). And so, at lunchtime, we decide to go on one of our usual daily walks – past the village church and down the hill, with the view of the Cotswolds on the right (or left if you’re walking back up).
So, considering she has Cancer and has had covid (see what I’ve done there?), Lizzie’s doing pretty well going on this walk at all. Our despicable dog Cedric (the third C talked about in this blog – after cancer and Covid – and a right one) ambles in front of us, sniffing everything in sight – as is his wont.
After a while, Lizzie grimaces and says ‘I’m really feeling this in my legs.’
‘That’s because they took out your lymph nodes,’ I reply. ‘Whatever they are.’
Lizzie nods. Whatever they are.
Lizzie had her lymph nodes removed during her cancer debulking surgery (along with various other organs). We both know lymph nodes – or some of them – can be found in your groin and the top of your legs. But that’s about it.
‘They took out things I’ve never even heard of, when they removed my cancer tumours,’ Lizzie continues, warming to the subject, as we continue walking. ‘They’ve even taken out my “Morrison’s Pouch”. Whatever that is.’
‘Isn’t that what you take your food home in, when you go shopping in Morrisons?’ I ask, facetiously.
‘Well, I can’t do that anymore,’ says Lizzie, wistfully. ‘Because I haven’t got one.’
P. D. Clifton 
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