I'd
been having stomach trouble for a while. It was about 18 months ago that I had an ultrasound on my abdomen, it showed a 2cm cyst around my liver, the doctor wasn't concerned, so I wasn't concerned, they would monitor it with three monthly scans. But they didn't. So after months and months of
hospital examinations, A&E trips, various medications being
thrown my way and doctors dismissive of anything serious being wrong
because of my age, I was told I had IBS and by one doctor just
generally needed a good fart. I wish a gusty release of wind would
solve my pain and discomfort, but this wasn't to be the case and of course
ladies don't fart!
So
because nothing was wrong, and because they didn't feel I needed regular scans, I went travelling. Win. Three months in
Australia and Thailand was something i'd been wanting to do for ages
– how very original. A carefree, 20 something traveller – bliss!
But despite the idyllic beaches, copious amounts of Chang and this
great, great tan I was getting, I knew my body wasn't happy. I could
no longer put my swollen stomach down to a laddish beer belly – I
mean who am I kidding, my copious amount of Chang was 2, and maybe a
slurp of a Thai cocktail bucket!
So
I came home. After being seen by a brand new shiny doctor at a brand
new shiny surgery and explaining to him that I had this overwhelming
feeling that I was carrying in my body something that just shouldn't
be there, an alien of some sort, which of course sounds ridiculously
crazy but there was no other way to explain it, he suggested we re-do
all tests carried out at previous surgeries. I was referred to a
gastroenterologist
consultant and from results of an ultrasound I was rushed to a
Haematologist consultant.
A
haematologist, a blood doctor. Bizarre, but I wasn't at all worried,
my blood was fine, I was never ill, and having worked with children
for the past 8 years i'd built up this incredibly unbreakable immune
system, I was untouchable! Just like my trusty (now rusty) peugeot
206 that had survived, well 7 years of me torturing it – I wont go
into details, partly because there's too many stories to tell and
mainly because no one would get in the car with me again! But
basically me and my peugeot are as 'ard as nails!
Sooo,
the news then that the lymph node that sits alongside my aorta that
should be 1cm in size had grown to 17x10cm, well, there were no
words. I stared at the image of this alien mass for what feels like
forever. I remember being told by someone prior to this appointment,
that you should only worry if you're seeing an oncologist – they're
the guys you never want to see, ever, and as I was seeing a
haematologist it was fine, so when he handed me an emergency
oncologist chemotherapy card, I knew then that I was well and truly
fucked! Its like when Charlie had the golden ticket in his hands,
except completely fucking not. Charlie's ticket was the start of
something incredibly happy and amazing, my ticket was cancer and my
chocolate factory was a hospital. Screw Charlie and his luck. I could
do with a chocolate factory and an army of chocolate covered Umpa
Lumpas right now.
I
don't cry, I keep my feelings under lock and key, i'm untouchable
remember, the tears then that involuntarily fell once I heard this
news, well they just wouldn't stop. Shock, terror, disbelieve, a
multitude of feelings and thoughts came flooding in. It was just
unbearable. Like the bury my head in the sand type of girl that I am
I picked up my coat and bag, and in a very British manner shook the
consultants hand and thanked him – its funny, even in the most
desperate of situations we always fall back on our very British
politeness, and with tears streaming down my face I walked out of the
room. If I didn't hear anymore then surely it wouldn't be true.
Running away from things had always worked in the past, so why not
now? So I left my sister in there to continue talking to the
consultant. My sister, my incredibly brave, supportive, and positive
sister came out of that room with an energy of defiance, I would beat
this, this was one thing that I couldn't run away from and that I had
to face head on. And so, let the battle commence. I'm ready.
