Thursday 8 November 2012

Staging and before the main operation

Squeamish or don't want to read about intimate operations? Don't read!

So another week went by and I got on with mundane things like washing, hoovering not cooking obviously!  I stopped going to work as I couldn't cope with trying to concentrate on one task at a time.
Had lots of phone calls and texts from different people to see if I was ok. I sound really selfish now but not alot of people asked how Dylan was. I think that people assumed he would cope.
Poor old D whenever I am worried about something I always look to him, forgetting that he might be scared too. When we go on an aeroplane or ferry I question him about noises and if everything is normal and am not happy until he reassures me. The other day at Thorpe Park he had to talk me all the way round a ride as I was shitting myself! Pathetic I know but he is my rock and I forget that he can't make everything better all the time. I wanted him to just say "Yes you will be fine" and really mean it. Of course he couldn't be sure, no-one could.
The days passed in a daze really. We went for walks and spent a lot of time snuggled up talking about stupid things.

The day of my first procedure arrived. We made our way up to the Admissions unit at Maidstone Hospital. Booked in and waited for the anaethetist (spelling?) to come and see me. His name was Mark and I explained to him that I was totally phobic about being sick. He laughed not in a horrible way , but was surprised that being sick was the thing worrying me most considering why I was there! When I was 11 I had my appendix removed. I was laying down and told the nurse I wanted to be sick. I couldn't sit up and the nurse told me not to be silly that I wouldn't be sick as my tummy was empty. I promptly threw up and choked. My Grandad came rushing in and pulled me up, but since then I am phobic about being sick. I hate feeling sick too.
When I had had my bladder op a few months ago I had had a spinal block with a little sedation, so Mark agreed I could have that again, but he said I had to have heavy sedation, because of the nature of my op. I agreed relieved that I wouldn't have to be knocked out totally.
Mr Devaja (Gynae-Oncologist) came to see me and explained what would happen. He said I would have my legs put into stirrups (fun) and they would use a spectulum so they could see my cervix clearly. They would use an ultrasound on my belly and a camera inside to look around, measure my tumour and see if there was any spread. What a lovely way to spend a wednesday morning!
So I walked down to theatre with the nurse and Dylan and had a good cry. Dylan gave me a hug and kiss and promised he would be back for me.
The theatre nurse checked everything on my notes and asked me if i knew why I was there. I said I did. I was walked down to the anaesthetic room and sat on the edge of the bed with my feet on a stool. I had an implant in my arm as a contraceptive so they had to put the blood pressure machine around myright arm and the needle into my left hand. My veins of course ran away as soon as the dr came near me! Eventually the sedation went in and I felt a little woozy. they inserted the spinal block and laid me down. I was wheeled into the theatre and could hear Kings of Leon "Use Somebody" being played. I remember telling the nurse I liked it and then nothing. The next thing I recall was waking up in the recovery room. my recovery nurse was Sandra who I had known for years as she was the midwife who delivered my younger brother. She checked me over and had to clean me up as where I had had a spinal I wet myself as I had no feeling. They hadn't put a catheter in because of my bladder problem. It was very embarassing but couldn't be helped. She saved me a lunch to take to the ward with me (it was like a little happy meal box!) and she called Dylan to let him know I was ok.

I left the recovery room and was wheeled along to Whitehead ward as this was the only place in the hospital that had a bed. The nurses I am afraid were not very good. Dylan arrived and had to clena me up again as I had wet the bed again. I burst into tears. Dylan had seen me at my worst, but this! He hugged me, kissed my head and told me to stop being silly. He went out to the nurses and asked why I had been left and they said "Oh she should have called us". I would have done but couldn't reach my bell and was numb from the waist down!
We sat there for hours and eventually my legs started to come back to life. No nurses came to check on me at all, even though I had asked for pain killers and something to stop the itching caused by the Diamorphine. I had no energy to complain and just wanted to go.
The guy in the bed opposite kept coming to the end of my bed where the TV was situated and banging on the TV trying to get it to work and me and D were getting more and more annoyed. I asked D to help me up. I still was a little numb, but managed to walk to the loo.
We found a nurse and asked her to call the Dr to see if I could go home. He came and asked why my drip was off. Not a clue I replied! he went off to "have a word" with the nurses, came back and apologised and let me go!
Before I went he told me that my cancer was still there (boo) and was a Grade 2 Stage 1b1 Cervical Adenocarcinoma and so far it hasn't spread. Wow it has a name, but I still call the tumour Fred.
We got home and I slept. No better off or worse off then I was this morning.

I still have cancer, but I have amazing people around me to help me through.

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