I'd been home one night before I
was rushed back into hospital. Ok, so I was expecting sickness,
tiredness, you know, the standard well known chemo side effects but
this horrendous pain in my abdomen was not expected. My stomach was a
swollen mess, I looked heavily pregnant – but pregnant with an evil
alien cancer bastard!! The next 12 hours were spent in A&E on
morphine. The morphine was only able to slightly take the edge off,
whatever was going on inside my tummy was not letting up. I figured
the alien bastard was enraged about the chemo I attacked it with the
day before and was throwing one almighty strop. The scans and blood
tests (it only took two nurses this time to find a vein) proved
inconclusive so it was back for a stay at my cancer ward – which is
fastly becoming my second home. My consultant said he believed the
pain and swelling was caused from the chemotherapy attacking and
breaking down the tumour/alien bastard, and because the alien was so
big it was causing all sorts of problems for my organs – so I was
right, it was having a tantrum.
Luckily this time around I snagged
my own room for my stay and I spent the next two days attached to a
drip, feeling incredibly rough and sorry for myself. Occasionally i'd
wonder down to the main ward to see a friend that I'd made when I was
having the chemotherapy. She was having treatment for lung cancer and
had already undergone lots of chemotherapy, I found her incredibly
brave and she made me feel positive and safe. Although, these visits
were short lived because my drip machine would have a panic attack
about being unplugged and would beep constantly at me until I plugged
it back in. Me and that thing had a love, hate relationship. But the
visits to her were well worth the drip aggro and it was reassuring to
know she was there once my friends and family had left for the day.
So when she knocked on my door a couple of days later dressed in her
clothes i.e. no hospital gown and needles out, I knew she was
leaving, she was going home. And I was so happy for her, long
hospital stays mixed with cancer treatment can become soul
destroying, and we all focus on getting better and back home. But I
couldn't help but feel sad and choked up when we were saying goodbye,
I guess the only people that truly understand what you're going
through are the people that are also going through it. Once she left
my room, I cried, I really cried, I felt horribly alone and scared.
Everything hit me that day, I sat alone in that room, well I guess
technically not alone, the alien bastard was keeping me company
wasn't it. This was one of my hardest days.
But soon my sadness turned to
frustration and anger and determination. There was a battle going on
inside my body. The alien bastard wants to consume everything, it
wants to make me sad, and ill and scared but hell if i'm going to let
that happen. I don't think it realises how competitive I am, well
it's about to find out.
Two days later, the swelling and
pain was gone and my consultant sent me home. Ha, up yours cancer.
1-0 to me. *smug face*
“Hope is being able to see
that there is light despite all of the darkness” - Desmond Tutu
 |
| Yup, Yup, Yup |
 |
| Drugs for breakfast, lunch and dinner |
