I was what some people call a Super Woman before the dreaded Cancer came calling. No job was too big or too much of an effort. I loved my life, worked over 50 miles away as an accountant and I commuted daily by car. Went to a high impact aerobics class three times a week, taught arts and crafts most weekends as we as looked after my husband and two grown up sons. Then one day, the 14th June 2007 to be precise, I went to have a smear (overdue by 18 months) and had had some irregular bleeding…but that must be that my coil needed changing…
When the nurse was attempting to do the smear I started to bleed heavily, she then asked me to get dressed and take a seat. I was informed that she was referring me to the hospital urgently as there was a mass evident that she was not happy about. I asked her what the worst-case scenario was and was told “ Cervical Cancer “. Yes I cried, of course I did, who wouldn’t under the circumstances??? I had to try and pull myself together though as my youngest son was waiting for me downstairs. I don’t know how I made it down the stairs blinded by tears; as soon as he saw me he knew something was wrong. As we walked outside I blurted it out, I’ve never kept things from my boys, he just put his arms around me and held me tight. “We’ll get through it Mum don’t worry” he said, all the way home I kept trying to tell myself that I shouldn’t be worried as that was the “ worst case scenario “ and I was being silly worrying over nothing. I just couldn’t convince myself though. I knew that I had to tell my eldest son and husband yet and felt my throat closing with dread. When I went through to my eldest sons room he took one look at me and sat bolt upright in bed, “What is it Mum???” he asked so full of concern, obviously not expecting the answer he received. He echoed his brother’s words and said until we have confirmation we will just have to get through it and we would do “what ever it takes”…. Oh how blessed I am. The only time he cried that I am aware of was when I walked out of his room and walked back in unexpectedly and he was sobbing into his pillow, it broke my heart. I had to waken my husband and tell him, he does shift work, I just had to get it over and done with. It was one of the worst days of our lives.
The waiting game started…. I received a letter in August from the hospital stating that I had missed my appointment and reiterating that it was important that I come in to see them! Hang on a minute what appointment? This was the first that I had heard from them, I was just beginning to convince myself that there was nothing serious wrong with me or they would have got me in sooner. When I telephoned the hospital I was informed that they had sent the original appointment letter to the wrong address but had rescheduled me for a biopsy for the beginning of September. The results were going to take about 10days I was told after the procedure, upon which I went hysterical saying “I can’t wait that long”. The Doctor said she would push them through urgently for me, which she did and I am so grateful to her for that. When I got a letter a week later asking me to come in for the results I thought if it was anything sinister they would have phoned me to come in so there was nothing to really be concerned about…..
The realisation that something was really wrong hit me like a sledgehammer whilst my husband and I were in the waiting room for our results appointment. A very nice well spoken man came through and called my name, he introduced himself and took us through to a “Quiet Room”, now I know I’m blonde but even I knew that if it was nothing the woman who had done the biopsy would have seen us not a consultant and we most certainly wouldn’t have gone to a quiet room. The consultant told us that I needed a special type of hysterectomy, upon which I laughed and told my husband “See I always told you I was Special”. I then went into denial and told him I can’t have this Radical Hysterectomy as I didn’t have time, I was in a new job and couldn’t afford to be off for six weeks. The family where shocked at the outcome of that meeting but again re-iterated that we would get through it together. Then it was scans followed by another appointment to discuss the results and what I wanted to do next. My operation was booked for 17th October 2007.
The day of the operation came and I seemed to wait forever to go to theatre, I am hypoglycaemic and am supposed to eat lots of small regular meals to prevent my sugar level dropping and me going into a diabetic coma, I had been allowed nothing since the night before and by the time half past one came and the porters came for me I was light headed and trying not to panic. I had also made them aware of my needle phobia and my unusual allergy to anything citrus (you would be amazed how widely it is used in medicine). When I eventually came round in the recovery room I just thought “Thank Goodness its all over”. The family were relived when I was back on the ward but unbeknown to us worse was to come. As they were leaving the ward the one nurse asked that someone be there when the consultant did his morning rounds. We thought nothing of it and as my husband had to work my eldest son came in….
“I’m sorry,” The surgeon said “but we couldn’t perform the operation due to the size and location of the tumour”. I felt let down, unnecessarily butchered and all for nothing. How I held it all together I really don’t know. My poor son had to break the news to everyone. The next step was radiotherapy and chemo, the whole other world of oncology and the waiting game again. Radiotherapy was to be everyday for 6 weeks including an internal 18-hour session and chemo was to be done at the same time but only on a Tuesday all starting on the 15th of November. I put on my fighting mantle and kept my chin up thinking that I just have to get through this last hurdle, I had been told that this would sort me out, so fight I did…the needles were to be my nemesis as my veins kept rolling away and the more I panicked the worse it all got. I couldn’t cope with the chemo; my counts were too low so I felt guilty at only managing three out of the planned six. Secretly I was relieved in a way, I thought that this was the end of the needles, how naive. The chemo made me very sick but the anti-sickness tablets did help and the radio made me so tired it took me all my time to get from bed to the sofa. The radiotherapy was over on the 22nd of December 2007 so Christmas was a non-event but at least it was all over and done with now!
I had to see the oncologist in February for a check up and be booked in for another scan, then back to the waiting for results. The next appointment came and I asked the oncologist if I was in remission, that’s all I wanted to hear, I was told yes but that I needed to have it all confirmed by my consultant. Back to the hospital for yet another appointment, this time with the consultant and the oncologist together. I told my husband that I had a feeling we weren’t going to like what we were going to be told….. I was right. I had to have another biopsy but this time under general anesthetic then back for the results a week later. I was told that there were still cancer cells present and it was a case of when it flared up again and not if. We had to attempt the operation again. I asked to delay the operation for a while so I could have some “Well Time” with my family and we scheduled it for the 4th of June 2008. I was rushed in to A & E on the 27th of May haemorrhaging and needed a blood transfusion but still kept my chin up and outwardly appeared positive and upbeat. I was sent home with orders to rest till my operation the following week and for once I listened. The following week I was back in for my operation but had been warned that due to the radiotherapy there was a chance that my bowel had adhered to the tumour and there was a chance that they would have to remove a section of it….
When I came round I was informed by the consultant that he was pleased with the operation and whilst both the bladder and bowel had adhered to the tumour, he had managed to separate them without having to do anything too radical. I had to keep the catheter in for two weeks to give my bladder a rest but that I could cope with. I developed a slight infection and the wound had a little discharge but nothing anyone seemed worried about, so I was let home to recover from the surgery. I fell asleep on the sofa and when I woke up it was to an awful stench, when I moved there was just all this gunge was running out of my wound, back to the hospital I went, I was put on two very strong antibiotics and had to have the dressing changed the following day, when I went back to have it changed they put a child’s stoma bag over the hole and that needed emptied at least three times a day. At least it was draining though. The district nurse came every other day to clean it and change the bag. Back to the hospital on the 18th to have the catheter out and arrange for Tissue Viability to check me over two days later. On the morning of the 20th I said to my boys that I didn’t feel very well, like I was constipated, I just felt worse and worse until an ambulance was called and I was carted of to A & E yet again. This time it was much more sinister though I had septicaemia and my body had already started to shut down, the pain was excruciating. I had an emergency operation to save my life ended up being fed through a line in my neck and a seven and a half week stay in hospital weighing just over four and a half stone At least I’m home now, putting on weight and on monthly hospital appointments. Now I need to find my “Normal” as life will never be the same again…...
