I’m here and I’m alive. It’s Friday, the day after my op, but as is my way, I need to keep this in order. This little blog has proved very useful to me the last few days got looking up dates etc. Like a mini version of my medical notes, very helpful.
Day starts off with dropping the boy off at the station and waving him goodbye as he sets off to spend some time with my mum. There is always the thought that crosses my mind ‘what if something goes wrong, what if it’s the last time I see him’ Big hugs, a flicker of tears in both our eyes.
Then drove to Bath. From my old house I could pretty much do it with my eyes closed. I still need to concentrate from the new house. My head was a sieve and made a couple of errors.
Get to pre op suite. Pre op nurse, was like Basil Fawlty, very competent but as eccentric as hell. Told him straight away about my SVT which led him to ‘flip’ his next patient and sort out getting all my notes from Gp sent over, arranging for me to have ecg etc etc. All the other usual gubbings, bloods, height/weight, swabs. Quick to write but this all took 2 hours.
Then I had to go downstairs to gynea. Not long after Nick calls me in, Jane is there and another (very young) doctor observing. It was hideous. The ‘young one’ as I will call her, either appeared to find the whole concept of a woman losing her vagina rather challenging or a source of amusement because she kept giggling. She was sat behind Nick. Nick, I believe, sensing my mounting irritation at her, moved his chair so he was directly in front of me, and I didn’t need to look at her over his shoulder. I saw Jane get eye contact with this ‘young one’ and while I can’t be sure I think the jist was telling her to shut the fuck up.
I was probably over sensitive ( it’s not every day you talk about having your vagina removed) but I could of throttled her. When I told a Nick everyone upstairs was getting their knickers in a twist about my SVT, she chipped in with ‘you’ll be fine’ She was very much getting on my nerves, slouched on her chair, it was as if I was there for a splinter.
I then asked a question that I already kind of knew the answer to. As I no longer have a vagina, or very little else that comes under the heading of gynea. The likelihood is that if this precancer comes back it will either be on my anus or ureatha. This means that I will no longer have Nick as my consultant and surgeon. I’d worked that out, but asked it, and it was confirmed.
Other cancer buddies have explained that ending treatment, moving teams etc is like the end of a relationship. Well it is a relationship. These people have been a massive part of the hardest times if your life.
So upset by then, and very close to breaking down, I did a runner out of the meeting, sat in the car, and bawled and bawled and bawled.