In the meantime, I continued to lose weight, fart more regularly and have runny Poo containing some blood.
I had not had a follow up call from the hospital so rang them and left them a message. I also called my surgery.
My surgery suggested the meeting would be earlier than had previously been mentioned. The hospital called to check and suggested a further PET CT Scan would be needed. – Positron Emission Tomography. The suggestion was to ensure the cancer had not spread to my lymph nodes.
I waited a further week. Nothing.
I experienced a couple of minor embarrassing discharges. I needed to fart but got slightly more than was bargained for.
The first was at home one night and needed to change my pyjama trousers.
The second was in a local village one lunch time when visiting the Post Office. I noticed a damp patch on the seat when I got out of the car after driving back to work. I visited the loo to find I had messed myself. I had no spare boxers so needed to carefully dry them off and hope for the best.
I have since taken to putting a spare pair in a rucksack along with my lunch and book to read.
The day of the supposed meeting came and went. I waited a couple of days for a call. Nothing.
I called them and left a message. I called again and left my mobile number.
I had missed call – Caller No Id – as I drove home from work.
I called again on the Monday morning, making sure to leave all relevant details.
I received a text message – thanks for your call. You weren’t discussed at MDT last week as not all your results were back. We hope will be back for this week. We will call as soon as we have all the information.
Hmph.
I am not sure when I started to feel back aches, or cold, or more tired than normal, but by two weeks after the CT Scan I could certainly sense something different in my body.
My rear end felt as though I had eaten a Vindaloo each night, and I was visiting the toilet once every couple of hours during the day.
I am not sure if the cold was the weather or if the internal fires had gone out and it was only my clothes keeping me warm.
Back ache is something I have suffered with since my teenage years, but this felt different. It was a dull pain across the lower back without spasms.
Hopefully it was purely psychological and a result of slow workdays and a poor seating position.
Then I received the call. Wednesday afternoon, caller No Id. A meeting was set for the Friday morning following the MDT meet that day.
I spent the evening sending messages to friends and family.
My brother’s replay was. ‘Thank you. I shall be on the golf course. Keep me informed.’ To put things into context, he has a Police background and was trained to distance himself from ‘personal tragedy’. He also lives 1 ½ hrs drive away and there is not much he could do.
Others were supportive, one expressing concern as to what could be going through my mind.
‘It’s what is going through my bum that I am worried about!’ I replied. She came back later with lots of smiley laughing faces.
My nephew told me not worry if it would be a bag for life. I responded that I had had a bag for life from a local supermarket. It was made of paper and fell apart.
I vowed to let everyone know and arranged face to face calls with family I would not see personally.
On the Friday, we arrived in plenty of time and found our way to the appropriate reception area. I approached the desk and told the young lady what I was there for. She could not find me at first, then decided it was a private Meeting. She said she would let them know I had arrived, and they would call me through.
It was a public waiting area, with patients with sample bottles, 2 patients handcuffed to prison wardens, and other people for other minor investigations. We found a couple of chairs and settled down. My wife had worked a night shift so had not slept in virtually 20 hours.
The meeting was scheduled for 10.30. By 11.00 no-one had called me up, so I made my way to the reception desk and asked how long they might be.
The same receptionist looked at me blankly and asked who I was? I showed her my name on a letter I had for a previous appointment and said I was in for a private meeting. She flustered an apology and said she knew they were running late but thought it was only 5 minutes. She suggested I sat down, and she would find out.
As I returned to my seat she turned to her colleague and had a private conversation before heading off down a corridor. She returned a few minutes later, apologising again for the delay and that I would be called in shortly.
Perhaps another 5 minutes later my name was called, and we made our way down to a consulting room laid out with a bed and 4 plastic chairs. After another few minutes the nurse re-appeared with the consultant who was busily re-arranging the papers in my file. It was obvious they had not fully prepared for the meeting.
The first things I was told was that a date had been set for 3 weeks’ time, but that were awaiting results of my CT scan. I interrupted immediately to say that it had been mentioned to me 2 weeks previous that a CT scan may be needed, but I had heard nothing more.
