Friday, 24 July 2015

Cancer: Fun Police

I am fuming.

I am sat (I say sat -I am all twisted because I can't sit down properly) on my sofa, complete with Ted stockings in situ (very glam). I should be in Brighton with Rebecca and Sarah but once again cancer strikes again and ruins all the fun.

2 days ago I went to the Royal Orthapaedic Hospital for a biopsy taken from my Illiac crest -pelvis. It never once occurred to me that this would be taken via my right arse cheek. Ouch.  

After being told I was 4th on the list and being a female only ward I had to wait on my own -once again Poor Arron had to wait about for hours on end. Unsurprisingly my BP went through the roof (155/114). Having reassured the anaesthetist that I suffer from "white coat syndrome" and my BP is "normal" at home I was given a Benzodiazepine - Tamazepam. Amen. It's safe to say that I quickly relaxed and managed to find a some what happy place. And I found these beauties a bit more funny than they actually were... So not flattering - last shred of dignity gone...

Having sat on my right hand for a couple of hours to warm up my veins they managed to successfully canulate my "chemo vein" -first time -I was pretty dam impressed. Next came the "Miss Fletcher we're going to shove a massive biopsy needle through your right arse cheek so we need you to lie on your left side before we put you to sleep." I don't think I needed the GA as I almost passed out there and then, not so much about the pain I would be in after but more so that they've already taken my boobs and now they could totally mess up my only asset. Fabulous.

Then came the GA and I was just repeating "im in Bora Bora on the beach..."

And I'm awake. Flat on my back just as they finish taking out the tube from my throat. Tea, I need Tea. OUCH and pain relief....

Then I was back on the ward, Arron still not allowed in. And it's safe to say that the pain was laughably un-bearable, until I had more IV pain relief, I have no idea what it was, nor do I care, it worked. And I slept, and woke up for tea. And passed out again. The nurses bless them had to keep going out to tell Arron that they couldn't wake me up and that I looked comfortable and only woke up for tea. At one point I passed on a message that he should nip to the Jewellery Quarter and get me a nice rock... I never got the message back... Strange...

Once awake I fell about a bit and got dressed and was told that I had to wear these beauties for TWO weeks. Not even kidding, TWO weeks.

 I even asked for a clexane injection but nope, I have to wear these. Been as it's the weekend I've decided to "treat" myself and wear these bad boys instead...

Getting home and into bed was reminiscent of the chemo days and Arron had to pretty much carry me up the stairs whilst trying not to laugh (and drop me and trip over Fabio).

For the amount of pain and discomfort I was expecting something a bit more dramatic than this, but here you go...

That's it. A couple of steri-strips and a plaster.

And now I'm hobbling around the house unable to sleep on my right side due to obvious reasons as above, my left side due to lymphoedema arm, and front due to scar tissue from MX. This is how I have to sleep and I'm sure you'll agree that this isn't ideal...

And so here I am, Friday night in pain counting down the hours until I take take more pain relief. I should be in Brighton, granted I wouldn't be dancing on the tables and wouldn't be necking shots as I can't drink these days, but I would have dipped my feet in the sea, ate cockles for breakfast and breathed in the sea air... Oh well I have fresh sheets on my bed, every silver cloud and all..

Rebecca Swift -  I hope you're having a fabulous time, sorry that me and the other sick note Sarah Perry couldn't be there with you - but at least Sarah's had a real op and has drain worms to look at - I get a bloody plaster on my arse!!


  1. Oh, Aimee, I do get the utter bloody frustration that, yet again, ruddy cancer has stepped in and taken over another bit of your life and spoiled your plans for a fun weekend. How dare it do this, uninvited? The number of times me and my husband (who has a stage 4 neuroendocrine tumour of the lung) have had to cancel stuff or not even dare plan in the first place because, you know, cancer...I've been following your blog for a few weeks, since Buzzfeed ran the story about that picture, and it struck me how similar your approach is to my husband's. He too is very resilient and has quite a dark sense of humour, which some people have found a little shocking. After all, aren't cancer patients supposed to be all saintly and everything? Yeah, right... I really do wish you all the best (and all the best pain relief, too). I hope you get your weekend in Brighton before too long.

  2. Er, James, just in case you ever read this, your bad wife had to use your profile because I don't have one of my own, and now I've made you sound like you have a husband. Which you don't. I think. If you do, then bloody lung cancer is going to be the least of your problems!

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