My right leg has been in trouble since the middle of last year.  Back pain and sciatica were the name of the game then.  Little did I know the story of destruction that my bones had already gone through.

The good news is that the sciatica has pretty much stopped.  That back surgery last October (and £900 in surgeon fees to top up the BUPA contribution) have been kind.  To a point.

But my right leg remains weak.  At times it feels like it’s disconnected from my pelvis.  And my pelvis feels like it’s disconnected from my back.

Part of me blames Oncobabe.  Much of the deterioration has happened in recent months.  I think she was slow to shift me to osiminertinib.  After all, I told them the afatinib wasn’t working four months before the change of drug.  Part of me is grateful for the delay though.  First class flying to New England, the Chile magnificence and a return to South West USA would simply not have happened if I’d changed drug sooner.

And those are memories I’ll cherish to the end.

But the leg is a nuisance.  Walking stick.  Pain that has worsened in recent weeks.  A definite limp that is more pronounced now than even a couple of months back.

Oncobabe fears a leg break.  So much so she ordered an X-ray last night.  I donned a ridiculous medical gown (these things will only ever reveal your rear or the crown jewels) and entered the room.

I’m used to X-rays.  On my chest.  Stand there, deep breath, flash, clear off.  Easy.  The leg was different.  Several snapshots taken.  “Can you angle your feet in?” – no it f***ing hurts if I do that.  “I need you to lie on your right side.” – p*** off I’ve not laid on my right side for 18 months because it hurts like hell.  “Please can you life the leg up so I can slide this board underneath it.” – yes, but be patient as the interaction between brain and thigh now takes a few seconds instead of a few nano-seconds!

Needless to say I kept my obscenities to myself and complied.  But it was uncomfortable.  And I nearly rolled off the trolley at one point.  That would have given them something worth pointing their radio waves at!

Eventually they released me.  Although it’s clear I’m a mess down there I assume somebody important checked to make sure they were no breaks or fractures before they released me into an evil West Yorkshire rush hour.  They certainly took long enough.