Chapter 21

There was no breakfast for me on Monday morning as the Doctor I was scheduled to see (arranged through Litara's company) wanted me to attend a clinic for more tests. Of course Serena couldn't resist offering me a little hot buttered toast to wind me up but I think Litara recognised that I was nervous about the whole thing.

Serena and I wanted to make the most of our London visit so, with big sister's advice and local knowledge, we headed on the Docklands Light Railway toward the new Tate Modern building. The sight of the nearby new but soon 'closed for modification' Millenium Wobbly Bridge was a salutary reminder that experts can get things very wrong and I was determined that today's medical expert wasn't going to push me about. Although I'd seen it on the television, in real life I was blown away by the London Eye, a ferris wheel sitting out over the river with legs on only one side. The queues were too long for us to have a ride but we did get tickets for the next day.

Once in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern Art Museum we were immediately drawn to Louise Bourgeois's massive sculpture, Maman . I don't know what this huge spider with its clutch of eggs suspended above our heads was meant to represent but for me it was an alternative if chilling view of motherhood.

My father had suggested I take a look at some paintings of Tahiti by Paul Gaugin but it seems we were in the wrong building on the wrong side of the river and having seen photos in a college library book I wasn't disappointed to miss them. Grandma Tina was my idea of a Polynesian woman and much more dramatic and lively than anyone Gaugin had ever painted. Then again there was her possible relationship with Bill so how well did I really know her?

With the time for my appointment fast approaching I offered to meet Serena back at the flat so she could see more but she would have none of it and the two of us headed by tube to the clinic near Harley Street. Money talks! The contrast between my welcome at the clinic's reception area and that at an NHS hospital couldn't have been greater but I was soon flat on my back in a hospital gown going through a scanner and unable to appreciate the decor. My new doctor, a Mr Charles Pitt (I now warrant both a consultant and a first name) had greeted me in the imaging department and explained that having read the details of my examination sent from Cardiff he would like first an MRI scan. Lying still for over 20 minutes was more difficult than I imagined but that wasn't the end of it!

On my back once more Charles, as he liked to be called, having examined the MRI results wanted a biopsy, or rather two! This meant that having received two anaesthetic injections, one in my groin and one a handspan higher and to my left, guided by an ultrasound scanner, he inserted large needles impossibly deep to take tissue samples. In addition, during a slight hiatus in the proceedings between scans, a nurse had taken more blood and a swab from my mouth. By the time Charles finished I was feeling thoroughly 'done'.

"At the moment I can't add to what you've already been told" apologised Mr Pitt as I sat on the edge of the table, "but I am not so sure that surgery is the best route which is why I took the biopsies. We have an appointment to meet tomorrow at 4 pm at my Harley Street office and hopefully I will be able to tell you more there. Until then it has been interesting to meet you."

Interesting? 'What does that mean?' I thought as I got dressed. Serena had been waiting in reception and caught the concern on my face. "You need food" she diagnosed correctly and we left to find a takeaway.

My first instinct was to gorge on comforting carbohydrates but I wanted to do a special meal for Litara so we compromised and sneaked supermarket pre-made macaroni salads into a cinema to eat while watching Leonardo DiCaprio in 'The Beach' discover the truth about paradise and parallel realities

A wonder of London is you can get anything and while fish shops are closed on Mondays I managed to find an alternative and two bottles of a nice Muscadet on the way home. Even with Litara not due in from work until 8 pm I was cutting things fine but with Serena's help that evening the three of us sat on the balcony overlooking the river to dine in style on grilled langouste served with rice and sauce chien - once I reassured them it was nothing to do with dogs.

Litara was fascinated with my description of the use of the scanners but worried that the biopsies meant the doctor was looking for something seriously wrong so suggested I not mention that part to mum when I phoned. That was my sister being about as subtle as a sledge hammer reminding me it was time to call which I did at 10 pm when mum and dad's favourite television programme would have just finished.

Nobody tells their parents everything and I'm no exception. I gave a few reassuring medical details and a lot of description of things we'd seen around London. When finally I rejoined the others at the table I said…

"It seems nothing ever happens in Wales but there is a lot of mail for Ms D V Williams!"