Chapter 26
BETH
I read the notices for self-help and support groups for family carers on the hospital notice board but take nothing in.
Justin sits beside me, as he has at almost every appointment since my diagnosis.
Even if he’s had to bring Hattie along, which more often than not turns into a nightmare and stresses all three of us out.
She thinks we’re here for her and has been known to scream and shout for him to take her home.
He ends up juggling looking after the two of us.
So he’s right when he says that it’s better that she’s at home being looked after by someone she’s comfortable with.
I pick up a trashy magazine from the table beside me but quickly put it down again when I read the headline: My Husband Cheated On Me With An Alien And Now He Wants Me Back.
A door opens. My consultant appears. ‘Mrs Lakeland.’ He scans the waiting room, spots my hand waving in the air and nods a greeting.
Justin rests his hand in the small of my back and guides me into the consultant’s office.
A large, bright room overlooking well-manicured gardens.
The air smells of antiseptic and new equipment.
Best of all, it has air-conditioning; just one of the benefits of private health insurance Justin insisted I arranged through the company.
He doesn’t wait to sit down before diving straight in.
‘We thought perhaps it was worth discussing Beth’s medication,’ he says to Dr Fletcher, who is a no-nonsense, balding man with a clipped tone.
The consultant takes his eyes away from his computer screen and focuses them on me. ‘Would you like to lead here, Beth?’
Justin holds up a hand as if he’s a kid at school asking to speak out in class. ‘The new one, prednisolone. It’s making her paranoid, delusional, at times.’
Dr Fletcher looks directly at me as he rolls up his shirtsleeves. ‘Has it helped with the nausea?’
I nod.
‘What about the itching?’ he asks. ‘How’s that been?’
‘Better.’ That has been a relief. The itching was like constantly living with a plague of fire ants scuttling about beneath my skin. It had become unbearable before I started this new drug. Some days the burning sensation had been hell. ‘Much better.’
‘Mmm.’ He squints at the screen. ‘How would you describe this paranoia?’
‘She’s seeing things that simply aren’t there,’ Justin says.
The consultant holds up a hand in my husband’s direction and swivels his chair around until he’s facing him.
He’s polite but firm. ‘No disrespect, Mr Lakeland, but I need to hear things from your wife’s point of view before we make any drastic changes.
There’s a fine balance to be had when it comes to medication.
’ He leaves his gaze on Justin a moment too long, then turns to me. ‘What kind of things are you seeing?’
I glance at Justin. He’s put me in an impossible situation. I can hardly explain about the latest drama he’s making me watch in my own home.
‘Tell him about the figures you see at night,’ Justin says. ‘People who aren’t there.’
I glare at him. He’s lying, of course, covering up what this is really about.
The consultant leans forward.
‘He’s right,’ I lie. ‘I wake up in the middle of the night and see people walking around the bedroom.’
Justin butts in. ‘She gets very worked up. It worries me terribly.’
The consultant nods. ‘I understand.’ He returns his attention to the screen and begins typing.
I stare at Justin. His face is pale, his eyebrows furrowed. And in the moment, I think, perhaps he’s right. This new drug is making me paranoid. Perhaps him asking Immy to stay to look after his mum really is genuine. On the face of it, his motivation is authentic. We desperately need the help.
But I know my husband. My emotions constantly flip-flop because of him. Some days, I feel as though I am losing my sanity.
The consultant carries on. ‘I take it you’ve continued to keep your workload to a minimum?’
Justin nods. ‘Correct. We’re not having Beth go into the office at all now. Haven’t for a while. And I’m reducing my hours, so I can spend more time looking after her as well.’
Dr Fletcher ignores him. ‘Beth, you must keep your strength up and keep your stress levels to a minimum. I’m giving you full licence to be selfish.’ He gives a kind smile and takes both of my hands. ‘Understood?’
I nod. ‘I just wish I didn’t feel sick all the time.’
‘Chemotherapy-induced nausea is often difficult to manage because of the many side effects. The drugs are known to cause psychiatric issues such as confusion and delirium – paranoia, too. If the itching is better, I’d like to try you on a lower dose.
Let’s reduce it to twenty milligrams, and we can revisit at your next appointment. ’
Justin nods. ‘I think this is the way to go.’
Of course he does.