And another clarification on what todays newspapers have published... I do NOT have cancer! (Who writes these things?)
Thursday, 28 April 2016
Round 2!
You're probably sick of me by now but this morning I received the all important rescheduling call! My surgeon has booked me in for the 10th May. Same protocol. Admitted at 7am, in theatre for 2-3 hours and plopped onto the ward for roughly 4/5 days. Fingers crossed it all runs smoothly now!
Wednesday, 27 April 2016
Junior Doctors- Do your thang!!
So thanks to my wonderful mother having a rant to the bbc, my face and story has been plastered all over various newspapers and sites (Yah, cheers for using 5 year old photos of me with no eyebrows daily mail.). I just wanted to respond and clarify that if anything was written in a way to suggest I blame junior doctors or that I am not in full support of the strikes - I dont and I am!!
The responsibility for this mess lies entirely with Jeremy Hunt. I would much prefer my surgery to be postponed then to be under the care of exhausted, sleep deprived, unmotivated and drained doctors. Despite what some people make out, doctors arent striking because they're greedy and care more about themselves than their patients but are striking because his decisions are dangerous for everyone involved by putting peoples lives and futures at risk (doctors and patients).
My frustration lies with the empty promises and the fact my surgery could easily have been scheduled for a more convinient time. But hey, maybe thats the result of the huge pressure Mr Hunt has put the NHS under already.
And also for those worried because the papers are making out like im about to kneel over and die tomorrow. Im not. Its just the longer my body is exposed to the steroids, the more damage is being done and the more pressure my body is being put under. So yeah, surgery is quite urgent to prevent an endless list of long term conditions developing but even with Timmy tumour having a rave in my brain, I'll still be here tomorrow. And the day after that. Just maybe a little more damaged than today.
Also another update on surgery is that there is no rescheduled surgery planned. (Wahey!) I must wait until next monday to pester them again. 😒
Thursday, 21 April 2016
Jeremy Hunt is a .......
Its common knowledge that there is a planned junior doctors strike on the 26th and 27th but i highly doubt ill have a junior doctor performing my operation and seeing as my surgery was scheduled after the strike had been announced and all the nurses said it was still all systems go I thought I was in the clear. But then I got a phone call yesterday warning me there 'might be a possibility' of it being postponed (but as of yet its still set to go ahead).
Annoying but I still stayed optimistic. I guess they just have to cover their backs. But then I got a phonecall telling me that because of the strikes they cant go ahead with surgery and it would need to be postponed. Im pissed off. I fully support the strikes and stand behind them 100% but nothing has changed since they were proposed. Why do they leave it until 6 days before surgery to tell me it cant go ahead? Everything has to be rescheduled now and I have to wait even longer. On the phone she said she didnt even know when it would be set for so I've gone from 6 weeks to 4 months to 5 months and now indefinitely.
Im bummed. And fed up. It would be fine if they gave me set dates and let me live my life in between but Ive been expected to be on standby for 6 months now and I'm tired of it all. Who knows when I'll reach to the light at the end of the tunnel :(
Saturday, 16 April 2016
Pre-opp Assessment and Final Hospital Visit!
Monday was one of my funnest hospital visits yet. I was initially just booked in for a pre-opp assessment but had to incorporate another day curve into the tests because when I didn't feel like the increase dose was making any difference my CNS said she wanted to check what was actually going on (although I reckon, pretty pointless as by the time the results are back it would only be about a week before surgery and as I learnt the hard way, it takes a relatively long time to actually make a difference).
I went in and just like the first time, had to wait for over an hour in the stuffy waiting room to be seen (it must be a monday curse). When I got shown my bed, the little wheely table beside it that they keep the tray of equipment and vials of blood on was fully stocked... they wanted 18 tubes today! Also on the table was a bottle of body wash that I have to use everyday for 3 days in the run up to surgery, 3 MRSA swab packets and my good old friend... a piss tube (in a discrete packet with a bright yellow funnel). As usual, Kemi put the cannula in my magic vein and started taking blood but about 3 vials in, my vein decided it didn't want to cooperate anymore and Kemi had to retreat to manually seringing the blood out and putting it into the tubes... even then it was reluctant to come out so after struggling to get the 9th tube filled she made me drink two big glasses of water to help the flow. It seemed to do the trick and voila, my first 12 tubes were ready to be labelled up and taken away. Next up were the 3 MRSA swabs, one taken from the squidgy bit at the back of the roof of my mouth, one shoved up my nostril and one from my groin/the inside of my thigh (which I had to pull my jeans down and spread my legs for lol).
Shortly after I was seen by two doctors. No idea what the woman was called but the man was called James and they were both nice. We had a long chat about symptoms and my history etc. They asked me how long I'd been feeling ill for before I got diagnosed. I've been asked this loads of times before but I never really know what to say... essentially I got diagnosed all down to chance. I've never really felt ill. Feeling generally a bit shit and having to actively fight to get anything physically done has always been the norm for me. I thought that was just the way humans were made, naturally inclined to be docile and lazy... I guess I'm lucky in the sense that I wasn't to know any better and that I've never felt unwell but then again, if normal for me isn't healthy, it's tricky to know what to look out for.
Anyway, so with discussion done and history recapped the little woman plodded off to see someone else in for their assessment and James was left to carry out lots of little tests on me. He prodded my abdomen and asked if I felt any pains (I didn't), he tickled different parts of my arms and legs to make sure I could feel sensation (I could), he tested my strength in my neck and limbs by getting me to push against him in all different ways, he did the red pin test to test my peripheral vision and probably did some other little things that I can't remember.
Physical tests done and I needed to pee. I had to scurry around the corner and try and find Kemi to assemble the confusing funnel-tube contraption. Slightly embarrassing having the whole of the unit watching me prep to pee. So I went into the bathroom and did my business (all over my hands) but hey ho, oh well, at least that was one awkward process over with. Yeah... until I opened the door and saw Kemi on the other side... I had to hand it over to her while it was still warm. We both ignored the awkwardness of the situation- I sat back onto my bed and she wandered off to help someone else.
After a couple of games of 2048, Kemi came and asked me to move into a more private room (the room I was initially in didn't have a door and if I drew back the curtain I could party with about 10 other people). Don't think it was for the privacy though, more for the space. Next up was my ECG and the big machine needed room. She stuck 10 sticky labels on me- one on each ankle, 4 around the bottom of my left boob, one on each wrist and two on my chest. She then clipped a wire to each one and pressed the button on the machine twice. The machine printed out two graphs (?) which looked cool. No idea what they read but they looked cool. She took another couple vials of my blood again and sent me up to my anesthetist appointment.
The room was stuffy and the receptionist was a big burly woman who seemed to huff and puff about everything but all I actually saw her do was tick two names off a list and book a doctor's appointment for herself. I had to wait in there for an hour and a half and it was super boring to say the least.When I was finally seen I was a bit disappointed with the appointment. She just asked me a load of questions she could have found out by looking at my notes and then I was done and sent on my merry way. That room is gonna be the room I have to check in at at 7am on the 26th and where I'll go from to theatre... all felt a bit surreal.
So after that I hurried back downstairs with my file to the PIU ready for my next set of bloods to be drawn. Kemi awaited me with my hospital packed lunch, took my blood and left me to have a nap (I've not been sleeping very well recently, I can't reach the land of nod until about 3:30/4am, so it's perfectly fine when I can sleep in until midday but on the days I have to get up at 8am, an afternoon snooze is very much needed).
Two hours later and it's time for my final set of bloods. The final little test before the big op! I felt a little sad knowing it was the last time I was gonna spend the day in PIU. It's friendly in there and I love nurse Kems. Anyway, bloods drawn, Kemi took my cannula out and popped a plaster on me. While she was labelling up the tubes I put my white jumper on and just as I was about to put my coat on too, I looked and saw a little red patch coming through my chunky knit. Damn it. I pulled up my sleeve and it looked like I'd been massacred. My whole arm was coated in blood and I was dripping all over the floor. Kemi rushed to the rescue and stopped the bleeding with a bit of pressure and a little cotton swab. Once the blood stopped she cleaned me up and soaked my (once white) jumper. 'Nevermind', I thought, it was getting old and bobbly anyway. But my girl Kems worked her magic and after she was done with it it looked good as new. So off I trotted, sent home with a bright green carrier bag of soggy clothes. Like a child who has pissed themselves at school.
Its only 9 days until my surgery now and I'm feeling excited! Not really looking forward to feeling like I've been hit by a bus, but the closer the surgery, the closer the recovery. And health is wealth. I'm cramming in as much nice stuff as possible before I'm out of action for the whole of summer and most probably christmas. -Pottery class in the morning, pedicures, haircuts and a date at the zoo with my granddad next week! It's only up from here...
I went in and just like the first time, had to wait for over an hour in the stuffy waiting room to be seen (it must be a monday curse). When I got shown my bed, the little wheely table beside it that they keep the tray of equipment and vials of blood on was fully stocked... they wanted 18 tubes today! Also on the table was a bottle of body wash that I have to use everyday for 3 days in the run up to surgery, 3 MRSA swab packets and my good old friend... a piss tube (in a discrete packet with a bright yellow funnel). As usual, Kemi put the cannula in my magic vein and started taking blood but about 3 vials in, my vein decided it didn't want to cooperate anymore and Kemi had to retreat to manually seringing the blood out and putting it into the tubes... even then it was reluctant to come out so after struggling to get the 9th tube filled she made me drink two big glasses of water to help the flow. It seemed to do the trick and voila, my first 12 tubes were ready to be labelled up and taken away. Next up were the 3 MRSA swabs, one taken from the squidgy bit at the back of the roof of my mouth, one shoved up my nostril and one from my groin/the inside of my thigh (which I had to pull my jeans down and spread my legs for lol).
Shortly after I was seen by two doctors. No idea what the woman was called but the man was called James and they were both nice. We had a long chat about symptoms and my history etc. They asked me how long I'd been feeling ill for before I got diagnosed. I've been asked this loads of times before but I never really know what to say... essentially I got diagnosed all down to chance. I've never really felt ill. Feeling generally a bit shit and having to actively fight to get anything physically done has always been the norm for me. I thought that was just the way humans were made, naturally inclined to be docile and lazy... I guess I'm lucky in the sense that I wasn't to know any better and that I've never felt unwell but then again, if normal for me isn't healthy, it's tricky to know what to look out for.
Anyway, so with discussion done and history recapped the little woman plodded off to see someone else in for their assessment and James was left to carry out lots of little tests on me. He prodded my abdomen and asked if I felt any pains (I didn't), he tickled different parts of my arms and legs to make sure I could feel sensation (I could), he tested my strength in my neck and limbs by getting me to push against him in all different ways, he did the red pin test to test my peripheral vision and probably did some other little things that I can't remember.
Physical tests done and I needed to pee. I had to scurry around the corner and try and find Kemi to assemble the confusing funnel-tube contraption. Slightly embarrassing having the whole of the unit watching me prep to pee. So I went into the bathroom and did my business (all over my hands) but hey ho, oh well, at least that was one awkward process over with. Yeah... until I opened the door and saw Kemi on the other side... I had to hand it over to her while it was still warm. We both ignored the awkwardness of the situation- I sat back onto my bed and she wandered off to help someone else.
After a couple of games of 2048, Kemi came and asked me to move into a more private room (the room I was initially in didn't have a door and if I drew back the curtain I could party with about 10 other people). Don't think it was for the privacy though, more for the space. Next up was my ECG and the big machine needed room. She stuck 10 sticky labels on me- one on each ankle, 4 around the bottom of my left boob, one on each wrist and two on my chest. She then clipped a wire to each one and pressed the button on the machine twice. The machine printed out two graphs (?) which looked cool. No idea what they read but they looked cool. She took another couple vials of my blood again and sent me up to my anesthetist appointment.
The room was stuffy and the receptionist was a big burly woman who seemed to huff and puff about everything but all I actually saw her do was tick two names off a list and book a doctor's appointment for herself. I had to wait in there for an hour and a half and it was super boring to say the least.When I was finally seen I was a bit disappointed with the appointment. She just asked me a load of questions she could have found out by looking at my notes and then I was done and sent on my merry way. That room is gonna be the room I have to check in at at 7am on the 26th and where I'll go from to theatre... all felt a bit surreal.
So after that I hurried back downstairs with my file to the PIU ready for my next set of bloods to be drawn. Kemi awaited me with my hospital packed lunch, took my blood and left me to have a nap (I've not been sleeping very well recently, I can't reach the land of nod until about 3:30/4am, so it's perfectly fine when I can sleep in until midday but on the days I have to get up at 8am, an afternoon snooze is very much needed).
Two hours later and it's time for my final set of bloods. The final little test before the big op! I felt a little sad knowing it was the last time I was gonna spend the day in PIU. It's friendly in there and I love nurse Kems. Anyway, bloods drawn, Kemi took my cannula out and popped a plaster on me. While she was labelling up the tubes I put my white jumper on and just as I was about to put my coat on too, I looked and saw a little red patch coming through my chunky knit. Damn it. I pulled up my sleeve and it looked like I'd been massacred. My whole arm was coated in blood and I was dripping all over the floor. Kemi rushed to the rescue and stopped the bleeding with a bit of pressure and a little cotton swab. Once the blood stopped she cleaned me up and soaked my (once white) jumper. 'Nevermind', I thought, it was getting old and bobbly anyway. But my girl Kems worked her magic and after she was done with it it looked good as new. So off I trotted, sent home with a bright green carrier bag of soggy clothes. Like a child who has pissed themselves at school.
Its only 9 days until my surgery now and I'm feeling excited! Not really looking forward to feeling like I've been hit by a bus, but the closer the surgery, the closer the recovery. And health is wealth. I'm cramming in as much nice stuff as possible before I'm out of action for the whole of summer and most probably christmas. -Pottery class in the morning, pedicures, haircuts and a date at the zoo with my granddad next week! It's only up from here...
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