Who’s going to tell her we think it’s Cancer?

It’s 7th Feb 2015, Rebecca’s birthday, I’m ready for an operation sitting in the surgical ward waiting room with hubby who still thinks it’s my appendix. The waiting room consists of hard chairs only. Opposite is a woman with one of those cardboard hat things for being sick into, various family group here to support their loved ones and me and Steve on two very hard chairs, me on nil by mouth and him going for coffee every hour so he can have a fag outside (jealous).

We arrived as promised at 7.30 following the night befores instructions on pending appendix removal. After a few hours they told us that I wasn’t going to have the operation but I was going for a CT scan at midday first. I’d already told everyone it was my appendix and my boss replied “okay see you in two weeks then” my first thoughts were that I may have to tell everyone it’s not my appendix and I’d already had to go from it’s my ovaries to it’s my appendix. The medical profession were trying to make me look a fool I was convinced but hey it’s not all bad, no operation and Steve has another excuse for a coffee and a fag, jealous!

At 12 as promised I went down for a CT scan. They put a cannula line in and lie you on the machine, then tell you they will speak to you via a side room as they are injecting radioactive dye into you and that the CT scan is dangerous and cancer causing! The machine starts up making it’s odd whirling noises. The ladies voice tells you to breath in and hold it, breath out – I can do this, easy! then the dye comes, first there is a metal taste in your mouth as you feel it flowing through your body and then the most oddest of sensations as you really do feel like you have wet yourself and it’s running down the insides of your thighs. The machine starts to shut off it’s whirling noise and the lady reappears as it’s now safe. She informs me that the images are available to view instantly and her report would be ready in about an hour. So back off to the ward I go, to the woman with the cardboard sick hat, the families who are now all having a picnic with Costa coffees, hubby who has managed to have another few fags whilst I’ve been pumped with radioactive stuff and me still on nil by mouth and no fags since 7 am, you can imagine my mood was sinking. So back to the hard chairs I go.

Time can be endless, sitting on the hard chair just waiting, still in pain and Steve, bless him asking me if I’m okay every half an hour. My poor hubby, with my mood getting ever more miserable I would reply “no I’m fucking not alright” to which he would ask if he could get me anything and I would just snap “yes get me fucking out of here” so he would make another excuse to get away from me and have another fag. I don’t blame him as if I could have got away from me I would. I’m so sorry Steve.

At around 4.30 that was it, I’d had enough, I was up on my feet and with a face like thunder. I went round the corner to the desk area, where they were all talking the Doctors and nurses. I gave them my special pissed off face and said “what’s going on?” The Doctor replied “oh we were just talking about you, I will see you and your husband now” There were no rooms available so he took us to an area and pulled a curtain round us. He talked about Crohn’s disease and diverticulitis  and the possibility of it being cancer, that he was giving me some stuff called movie prep which I had to take 24 hours prior to my colonoscopy, that he had requested an urgent appointment and to go home, someone would call me with a time and place. Great I said get this thing out of me (the cannula) now! I was too pissed off at the wasted day, the 8 hours in the hard chairs, regretful of my mood and snapping at my devoted hubby and also going all that time without a fag!

Back home I was able to spend the evening with Rebecca on her birthday and at least I still had my appendix……for now!

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Married to Steve, I have two children - Rebecca and Richard. Steve has two children, Lauren and Chris. Rebecca lives with us (nurse Rebecca) and my mom Judy also has become nurse and housekeeper but lives in the West Midlands. My son is in the Army and comes home when he can. I am 47, born in 1967 and I was told I had bowel cancer on 22nd Feb 2015 and this blog is my journey through it. I hope it helps you as you were the reason I started it.

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