Chapter 11

A fabulous time was had in Morocco; we enjoyed lovely food and drink, and also the hustle and bustle of Marrakesh.

We returned from our beautiful bit of winter sun to harsh reality – letters about three hospital appointments. One was to be done over the phone, another was to go and see the Consultant, and then there were two letters for the same time and date… My first job was to sort out this computer/admin error.

We continued with day-to-day life; going to work, spending time with the little one, and Chaz and Wes made another mud kitchen together.

The wedding plans were coming along nicely, and my hair was growing well. I had four of the girls from work round for chili and a catch-up. I was also offered a new job – exciting times ahead!

I started publishing my blog, and was amazed at the positive and encouraging comments from people. I even had a phone call from a press company wanting to do an exclusive for a newspaper to help raise awareness..! This seemed surreal and exciting. They arranged a phone interview with me, and published my story in two national newspapers.

I had a discussion with the Clinical Nurse Specialist (a lovely lady). She told me that my scan had only just been reported on, and that she was unable to tell me anything until my consultant had interpreted the results. She called me back later in the evening to tell me that I would be discussed at next week’s MDT meeting, and then I would have an appointment to see the Consultant. Another agonising wait for seven days. My head was spinning; if it had to be discussed at an MDT, did it mean there was something on the scan or was this simply routine? My mind went into overdrive.

Friends and family were asking me if I had the results yet, and they questioned why it was taking so long, and how ridiculous it was, having to wait that long. I am not sure why they aimed their moans at me, after all I was just the patient.

I still felt totally exhausted, and I guess this was a result of what my body had been through in the last year, and part and parcel of a busy life.  We visited our friends, Sue and Andy, for lunch, and then went to catch an afternoon film, so the day wasn’t anything too strenuous – but I still fell asleep in the cinema. I couldn’t help having that niggling doubt that the cancer was back, because of how tired I felt, but I continually tried to push that thought to the back of my mind.

I attended the hospital with one of our clients. On the way there, I received a telephone call from the CNS nurse, as I had requested to be informed about the MDT discussion. I was told that it has been noted that I have a small nodule on my lung, which they will discuss with me at my appointment, and that they do not need to do anything with this at present. I felt sick; there had been nothing on my previous scan, but now there was this nodule. I went to the hospital, and met my colleagues and client there. I’m not sure how I kept myself together that afternoon; the nodule may only appear small on the CT scan, but to me this was huge. I hadn’t told Wes on the phone, as he was ‘on nights,’ and I wanted him to sleep. When I did tell him, he asked, “What do they mean, they’re not going to do anything?” Again, I didn’t have the answers.

The following day I rang back, and asked for a letter version to explain what I had been told on the phone. This was a Friday, so I was promised they would get back to me on Monday. Monday came and went – nothing. I chased it up, and eventually went to the hospital to collect my own letter a week later. The letter simply stated what I had been told on the phone, so I still felt completely in the dark

I had an appointment arrive for a colonoscopy and an endoscopy, and an appointment arrived to see the consultant the day after.

We went off to Birmingham for a night away, just to forget all our troubles. We really enjoyed the short time away – it was perfect, just what the doctor would have ordered if I had indeed seen him! We finally got our pack of wedding invites in the post, and this side of things was becoming so exciting.

The days passed as I waited for an appointment with the consultant to discuss my scan further. I felt very much like life was on hold until I had seen him.

The week arrived; consultant appointment, colonoscopy, and endoscopy. How lucky was I! For those of you that are not familiar with a colonoscopy, you have to take a prep to empty your bowels the day before. It’s horrid stuff. As a nurse friend said to me on message, it’s completely different to my last poo story. This time it was more like the contents of the can of coke… How fortunate were the boys to live with me.

The night before, I had Alina and Sarah round for tea. We ate loads to compensate for me having to starve the next day. It was a wonderful evening, as always.

I prepared my prep and took the first dose. Within two hours the toilet had become my best friend.

The following day Chaz took me for my appointment. They talked me through the procedure, and I signed the consent forms. I got changed into a gown and a lovely pair of paper shorts that had a hole round the bottom area for easy access (ha!).  They gave me some sedation, which was the best bit, as you remembered nothing and I knew I was guaranteed a good night’s sleep.

The following day was my appointment with the consultant. My mum and Wes came with me. The consultant told me I had a small nodule on my left lung and another one behind my large bowel. Because these nodules were so small, they couldn’t say that I was in remission any longer, but neither could they say for definite that the cancer was back. He suggested a further scan in a few months’ time, and he said how well he thought I was doing, as “usually by now the cancer would have returned.” Somehow this did not make me feel lucky.

I hadn’t had my bloods done for the appointment, as I had the prep and sedation the day before. He asked if I would get them done the following week.

I came away from the appointment not knowing how to feel or what to think, so I decided to do what I do best – put my positive face on and get on with it. After all, my life was better than that of a goldfish who just swims around in his own poo.

I had my bloods taken, and now await the results….