familiarity

I know I go on a lot about the view from my hospital window and how spectacular it is; and with some justification.

In fact I can picture it now - the sweep round from the iconic lighthouse, around the bay and passed Blackpill and West Cross where the tide seems to venture in to its furthest point, then where the shape of Mumbles Road is defined by its geography until it reaches the hospital and university before carrying on unseen passed Brynmill, passed the City Centre, the docks (where the tourists are replaced by dog walkers and fishermen) and onto Briton Ferry.

I have to picture it because due to the weather today I cannot see it.

It's like the unknown but barring a few details I know exactly what lies around each corner.

My illness is not like that.

This is easily the worst week I have experienced in hospital.  Blood clots were discovered on my legs and lungs, and for the past few nights I have had a fever and dry cough meaning sleepless nights and a constant connection to oxygen.

Last night though my fever had gone and I has a good night's sleep for once,  but I hadn't. That is because when I coughed this morning it wasn't dry but was speckled with blood which I of course now have to report to my oncologist.

I just wish that my journey throgh cancer could be as familiar as ny view of Swansea Bay.