P. D. Clifton

This afternoon, Lizzie has an appointment with the surgeon (Mrs. S) who removed her cancer last summer. The build-up to the appointment has been a little fraught, because Lizzie’s due to get the results of her latest blood test from the surgeon too… the blood test which says whether her ‘markers’ have gone up or down; the indicator of whether there’s any sign of cancer in her blood stream.

After the appointment’s done, I speak to Lizzie on the phone – as she’s driving back from the clinic in Solihull.

‘How did it go?’

‘Good,’ says Lizzie – and I immediately feel a sense of relief. ‘My markers are down – to ten.’

‘What were they last time?’

‘Twelve,’ replies Lizzie.

‘That’s great!’

‘You must have felt pleased,’ I continue, stating the obvious as I often seem to do in these conversations.

‘I felt so pleased,’ says Lizzie, happily. ‘It’s like Mrs. S was giving me a gift… of some extra life!’

‘That sounds like the best gift in the world.’

‘Absolutely! I wanted to say to Mrs. S, “thank you for the extra life!”’

‘Anyway,’ continues Lizzie. ‘I had a gift for Mrs. S too. I wanted to give her something to say thank you for when she helped me in the summer.’

As I’ve previously chronicled in this journal, Lizzie had a very nasty turn this summer. Or perhaps a nasty turd would be a better way of putting it.

She had a bowel adhesion – meaning her bowl was blocked with all manner of horrid waste-matter left over from her cancer debulking operation.

Lizzie ended up in a hospital in Birmingham in excruciating pain. Matters weren’t helped by the fact the medical professional who was meant to be helping her went home without actually helping her.

In desperation, Lizzie texted her surgeon Mrs. S…. who, beyond the call of duty, swept into Lizzie’s ward and got her the medicine she needed. Talk about all-round service!

Now, as we talk on the phone, Lizzie explains that she gave Mrs. S. a painting earlier as a thank you for her act of kindness.

‘Which painting was it?’ I ask.

‘A small blue one with yellow flowers,’ replies Lizzie.

‘That was a nice thing to give her,’ I say.

‘I hope so,’ replies Lizzie. ‘Although it’s not as impressive as the gift of life, obviously.’

I smile. ‘It’s still pretty good.’ And here, for all you art-lovers out there, is the picture.*

*At least, I think it’s this picture. To be honest, I’m not one hundred percent sure. OK, maybe this isn’t the picture Lizzie gave her surgeon… but it’s still a nice one.

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