Anyone For A Cone?

I went in to hospital on Thursday for the Cone Biopsy and even though I put on a brave face, inside I was incredibly anxious

I had to put on the most delightful green surgical stockings (to prevent DVT), a hospital gown which refused to do up at the back and big paper knickers. And then I had to wait for ages. Fortunately I had taken in some magazines which kept me occupied but I was left for a good few hours.

In that time a nurse came in to do various checks but she was very dour and didn’t really engage with me!

An anaesthetist came and took my history - she was very sweet but very young which was somehow disconcerting.

And then the consultant breezed in. He was very jolly and sat next to me on the bed and went over what he was going to do and all the things that might go wrong. He said they had decided to do a hysteroscopy as well (which is basically sending in a camera to have a good look at the womb) and if that showed up anything serious they needed my permission to whip it out there and then ! That came as a shock but I signed the consent form and realised that my signature looked unfamiliar as my hand was shaking so much. The doctor told me to not worry and modestly added that he was an excellent surgeon and that it would be over very quickly.

After he swept out, another very young doctor scurried in and took some blood from me which resulted in much of it spilling over my arm and on to the sheets as she apologised profusely and looked as if she was going to cry.

The grumpy nurse wasn’t very happy about it when she returned to do some more checks. Five minutes later she popped her head back in through the curtains to tell me briskly that I had protein in my urine which suggested an infection of some sort so I needed to see my GP when I was back home. I asked her what she meant and she just repeated that I had protein in my urine. When I asked her if that was serious she said she didn’t know but I should see my GP. I’m so pathetic that I didn’t ask any more questions and just went back to my magazine!!

And then, suddenly, this huge giant of a man pulled back the curtains and made me jump as he bellowed “ Ready?” and before I could say anything, he said “we’re off” and then wheeled me on my bed out of the ward as the grumpy nurse ran after us with my notes. I still had my magazine with me!!

I have to admit I was scared then.

I was wheeled into the ante room where there seemed to be a hundred people milling around and through the double doors I could see more people in the operating theatre with its huge lights. The sweet anaesthetist came out and asked me how I was and when I couldn’t answer she said it was OK and perfectly natural to be anxious and that she would be with me the whole time and that everyone was there to look after me. She then started sticking needles in my hand and explained what she was doing but I couldn’t hear because the grumpy nurse had handed over to another nurse who started asking me to confirm my name and date of birth and then someone else was explaining that we would be going in soon and then another anaesthetist was there telling me she would be putting me to sleep shortly and then they put a mask over me and then ………..

…..The next thing I remember is about four people around me telling me that I had to lie still, pushing me down on the bed and saying I couldn’t go anywhere yet and asking me why I was crying !! As I came round they told me that everything was fine and that my womb was still in place. It seems I had woken up sobbing (which is quite common apparently) and I had tried to get off the bed. All seemed fine and then suddenly out of nowhere I was sick (again very common!) - extremely impressive projectile vomit which spewed out in an arc over the bed and on to the floor! They injected something into my hand and the relief was instant. I’m desperate to know what it was as I’m sure it could come in handy for the next hangover.

I was in recovery for a while and then they took me back to the ward where I must have slept it off for a good few hours because when I woke up, Ewan and Kyle were there. I don’t really remember saying much to them but afterwards Kyle said I looked pale and deathly and didn’t stop babbling!!

I slept through the night and in the morning I felt much better. The tea and bacon sandwich they gave me has to rank as one of the best meals I have ever had !

I thought I would get to go pretty soon but I spent the whole day on the ward as my blood pressure was too low for them to release me and I drifted in and out of sleep. The actual discharge took three attempts. Ewan and Sasha had come to get me at about seven in the evening but we didn’t get out until ten!

The first time was looking good. Sasha had helped me change and the nurse had gone over everything and given me my discharge notes and then she removed the needle from hand and …. I passed out !

I felt fine almost immediately but I had to wait an hour and a half before the second attempt. On this occasion we almost did it but after all the thank you and goodbyes, I got to the end of the ward and …went again.

This time, even though again I felt OK straight away, we had to wait an hour for the the doctor and he said my blood pressure was still too low and if it didn’t pick up in the next hour I would have to stay another night.

Fortunately, the third try was fine although when I hit the cool night air I nearly went again but was determined not to go back in!!

And that’s it. I’ve been fine since, although I have been sleeping far too much. I think I must look a real fright as everyone at home looks very concerned and they are all being very kind and considerate. I tried to put some washing on yesterday but Sasha took it off me and ordered me back to bed. That has got to be a first !

Things really must seem very serious to them all - even my mother is being nice to me !!

Yesterday , Tomorrow, Where Are We?

I had to go into hospital yesterday for some pre-op checks.

It seems I am in very rude health. Perfect blood pressure, no previous medical history, correct weight for my height….the nurse said I was lovely and straightforward !! She sent me off for a chest x-ray and some blood tests and assuming they come back normal, all will go ahead as planned, tomorrow.

While I was waiting for my blood tests ( I took ticket no 89 and they were only on 51 when I arrived!), an old lady was wheeled into place opposite me by her carer who then sat next to her. They both smiled at me and I noticed that the lady in the wheelchair was well-dressed and she sat up straight and proud and was well-spoken.

She asked her carer what the number on the ticket was and was told 93 and she noted that they were in for a long wait. The newspaper that was in her lap then slipped off her knees and fell in front of me. I picked it up and handed it to her with a smile and she thanked me very graciously. She handed it to her carer and asked her to read some of the articles out which the carer did and they talked about some of the stories.

I was quite fascinated by the two of them.

In between the reading, the old lady asked a couple of times what the number was on the ticket but the carer didn’t answer which I thought was a little rude. A little while later, I noticed the woman was not sitting so straight but had slumped a little in her chair. While her carer was reading, she pulled her sleeve and asked “what time is your appointment?” The carer said “There’s no time – it’s not an appointment.” “Oh” said the old lady “what is it then?” “It’s a blood test remember and it’s for you, not me.” The old lady’s eyes widened and the carer patted her on the knee and reassured her that it would be OK and over very quickly but they just had to wait a while first and then the old lady seemed to slump in her chair and stared at the floor while the carer just continued to read the newspaper quietly to herself.

I felt very anxious all of a sudden.

Then, about ten minutes later, the old lady sat up straight in her chair again and started to talk about one of the stories in the paper. I can’t remember the details but it was something about a man being sacked when his employer found out he was gay and she gave her opinions on why that was so wrong and had a very eloquent discussion with the carer about employment law and human rights. She broke it off to ask what number was on the ticket and was again ignored and then she suddenly asked where Brian was. Her carer asked “Brian? You mean your husband? He’s not with us anymore.” “Why?” asked the old lady. “Is he up in London?” “No” said the carer “He died a while back, didn’t he.” The old lady looked confused and then anger flashed across her face as she said “What a wicked thing to say. You’re a horrid girl. I shan’t talk to you any more.” And she sat staring at the floor again while the carer continued to read the paper.

I finally got it then.

It had taken a while to figure out as the old lady had seemed so proper. I bet she was a teacher once, even a headmistress but I guess dementia doesn’t care about the past.

Number 89 finally flashed up and I walked away as the old lady, forgetting her anger, asked what number ticket they had……

The Other Results

I neglected to mention that my son got his GCSE results. last week

He got 1 A and …….TEN A*s. In addition, he got an A in an AS level that he took a year early !!

I want to be modest about it and when people have congratulated us, I have smiled sweetly and said “yes, he has done very well - it's been another good year for the xchool” But actually, I want to run to the highest point and shout loudly:

MY SON IS A COMPLETE AND UTTER GENIUS. OH MY GOD, HE GOT ........ TEN, THAT’S TEN A STARS !!!! HE IS BLOODY BRIIIIIILLIANT !!!!

The thing is, this academic brilliance doesn’t come from me as much as I would like to take the credit. Ewan was the high flier as a student. I got by at school and university but I never really grasped how to do the whole study thing and I see that in my daughter.

She did better than we expected in her A-levels and that came as much as a surprise to her as to us but it hasn’t increased her desire to go to university. She made a choice earlier in the year not to apply and to take a year out to pursue her music and drama. I wasn’t happy about it but at the end of the day it is her decision and we will support her.

I’m constantly amazed at how different my two children are and how, in spite of that, they get on so well. I love watching them together. Sometimes they don’t interact with each other at all and then other times, they are falling about laughing together and of course, often they are arguing..

Sasha was genuinely delighted at Kyle’s results and she instantly took him out to treat him to lunch. Today they plan to go shopping and then off to the cinema. I know they are incredibly fond of each other and that reassures me. They’ll always be there for each other long after I have gone which is very comforting to know.

I have two fantastic children. I am so proud of them both and I don’t acknowledge that enough.

By the way, did I say ……that was TEN A-STARS !!!!!!

And The Results Are …

So on Monday, I trotted along to the hospital for my morning appointment expecting to have to wait for ages but once I had given my name, the consultant came out to greet me and took me into his office.

He asked me how I was feeling and when I said nervous, he said he was sorry that he hadn’t spoken to me over the phone but that he preferred to speak to his patients face to face.

He went on to explain that the reason that it had taken a while to get back to me was because he had wanted to discuss my case at the monthly MDT meeting with a pathologist and oncologist. Just hearing the world oncologist made me freeze inside as I immediately thought the worst.

However the situation is, although the colposcopy examination showed that my cervix is clear the biopsies showed that there are some pre-cancerous cells further up the neck of the womb. This is what is worrying them and so I need something called a cone biopsy. This is a small operation which will cut away a cone-shaped section of the affected area that will remove the abnormal cells and offer them a larger sample to examine and see if there is any need for further treatment.

He was keen to point out that at this stage there are no invasive cancer cells as far as they can see and that hopefully this procedure along with smear tests every four to six months will prevent any further abnormalities developing.

I felt quite relieved after he put it like that and then he suddenly said that he didn’t want to waste any time and his day for surgery was Thursday and he would like to schedule me in the same week. I mumbled something about it being too soon and he then said that he could delay it until the following Thursday but that he didn’t want to leave it any longer as it was quite important to carry out this treatment as quickly as possible. I asked him why and he said if there were abnormal cells further up in the womb they would need to act quickly.

Why do doctors talk in such contradictory terms? One minute he made me feel that this is all just a regular procedure and then suddenly it sounded almost like life and death with his sudden urgency to get it done.

Remarkably though I feel quite calm about it all now. It all seems fairly straightforward and the consultant is kind and seems very competent, if lacking in the best bedside manner !

Anyway, I’ll be in hospital this coming Thursday and Friday and then a few days off work to recuperate. There are a various things I should apparently refrain from for about four weeks after ….. including sex.

Ewan says that will be no change from usual then !!

A Time To Laugh

Yesterday in the office, I laughed.

I have learnt in life that those worst times of grief, when it feels like happiness will never come again, are so misleading. Although it doesn’t seem possible at the time, the shadows do lift and suddenly, sometimes when you least expect it, you hear the sound of laugher and realise it belongs to you.

That happened to me yesterday.

I guess I have been quiet these last couple of weeks and have kept myself shut away in my office, using work as a distraction. It’s not been so bad at home as the family give me much-needed energy. Especially when my daughter got better grades in her A-levels than we were expecting. We’re all incredibly proud of her.

But yesterday, Pete, one of the young guys at work was relating a terrible dating experience he’d had the night before and suddenly I realised I was giggling and as the story went on, I had pretty much collapsed with the others into a heap of convulsive laughter. It was good for me and I needed that – it was such a release.

Just ten minutes later though, I got a call from the hospital.

They want me to go in as soon as possible to discuss the results of my Colposcopy with the consultant. I asked for more details but the secretary said she wasn’t qualified to give me that information and that it would be best to wait to speak to the doctors.

It’s been a month since I had that test and I stupidly assumed that as I hadn’t heard anything that it was all OK. To be honest, what with Maria’s death and then the funeral, I had pretty much forgotten all about it. That phone call has put a stop to that though as now, I can’t think of anything else. I have to go in on Monday morning. I’m trying to be calm and rational but it’s proving difficult.

I guess the gods weren’t ready for me to start laughing just yet.

Why Can’t Life Be More Like A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess called Maria.

She wasn’t really a princess but she was so loved by her wealthy parents that she was treated just like one and given everything she wanted and was always allowed to have her own way. She was perhaps a little spoilt but she was so funny and pretty and full of life that everyone who met her loved her and forgave her sometimes negative traits.

For example, she got bored very easily if things didn’t go her way and so when she decided she didn’t like it at university she just dropped out. She tried her hand at a few jobs, including modelling, but because they didn’t interest her she never stayed long.

And then one day, she met a lady called Selina.

Selina recognised something of herself in this wild spirit and so took her under her wing. She gave her a temporary secretarial position in her office and Maria found that she loved it there. It soon became obvious that she was a natural in the PR world and she made herself invaluable until the directors gave her a permanent position as an assistant and from there she worked her way up. She stayed with the company for five years and the only reason she left was because she fell for one of the clients - a very rich young man called Gerald who swept her off her feet.

She had a fairytale wedding and Selina, who had become very close to her, was her matron of honour. All was well and Maria and Gerald were happy and settled in the country.

Or so it seemed.

Gerald would often ring Selina’s husband Ewan for advice on how to handle Maria as she was becoming more and more demanding and unhappy, living so far away from everyone. She refused to adapt to country life and complained bitterly that she wanted more. Gerald loved her and tried to make her happy but increasingly they led separate lives as Maria spent more time with her young single friends in London.

Both Selina and Ewan tried to talk to her but she refused to understand the need for compromise and after just three years, the couple split up. Selina spent a lot of time with Maria who was heartbroken. As much as she had pushed him away, she loved Gerald and now she couldn’t cope with him not being in her life. She alternated between partying wildly and shutting herself away for days at a time.

Selina, Ewan and Gerald waited, hoping that Maria would find peace and be ready to return to married life. But on the last Saturday in July 2010, she partied a little too heavily and then ran out into the road where she was hit by a car.

For Maria, there was no happy ever after.

I’ve been distraught since the news of Maria’s death.

Watching Gerald’s grief has been too much to bear. He blames himself and nothing we say can convince him otherwise. She had only just turned thirty and she had it all. I just don’t understand why she let it slip away.

I just can’t get over the pointless waste of such a young life.

Lurking

I’m here but am finding it difficult to blog at the moment. I have been visiting everyone but haven’t left many comments so forgive me.

Something has happened recently – not to me and nothing to do with my health but it has left me reeling and I need time to come to terms with it.

I know it will help to write about it and that’s the plan but I need time to get round to it and I just don’t feel like it for now. Perhaps I’ll be ready tomorrow or next week or maybe next month but however long it takes, don’t lose patience with me.

I’ll be back eventually.