So, my cancer. It was the size of a tennis ball, sat on my right ovary and was thought to be a normal cyst.
I was in pain. I tried to fight the pain, I tried taking the painkillers before the pain started. I did so well on this that a Harley Street Dr was about to send us for our first nurse appointment for IVF. The cyst on my right ovary was from a medical pow was in the way but harmless.
The pain however, well it was a cyst , one that would ‘ burst’ and create pain then refill to the exact same size and location.
I eventually fainted from the pain. Can’t even recall where I was. Just that I came to in some NHS hospital. Some women was trying to set fire to curtains, various people pushed on my stomach, then would explain I wasn’t ‘ guarding ‘ my tummy in a way that related to the pain I ‘ claimed to be in,”
Gyncology turned up. They listen with interest, sent me for a scan.
I was frustrated, I’d had a scan two days prior and it was all fine. The NHS was waisting it’s time. Eventually , after morphine etc , they said how they didn’t like the look of the cyst. Fine, after some thought, they decided to remove the cyst. Not the ovary.
Operation went fine. Cyst removed, ovary remained in place. I went back for my post op check, I actually met the Consultant. Lovely man, I know something was up from his demeanour as soon as we’d exchanged hello’s.
He explained that I’d need a oncologist , that the cyst was actually not cancer but was cancer. Confused I asked what on earth that meant. I had a boaderline ovarian tumour. He would recommend I had the ovary removed as the treatment. However, he said an gynaecologist oncologist was my best bet. I asked for a name. We had/ have private healthcare and I was scared.
I went to meet the oncologist. I waited less than a week. He met me, explained in more detail and he booked me in for the ovary to be removed.
Went well. He explained that this was it. Check ups every 6 months for a couple of years, then yearly until 5 years passed. I did however need to recover from the operations so we put IVF on hold.
6 months later, I’m having the ultrasounds, blood tests, CT and smear tests. Oh look abnormal cells, oh look my poor left ovary had a little something on that even looked like a tumour. My bloods were fine, no ovarian cancer.
Oncologist and I met, he said that given my history , given the shape of the tumour, he could not recommend IVF, egg retrieval would only spread seeds of a Boaderline Ovarian Tumour. Apparently, cutting out this thing, was the only thing that worked. No other treatments would do a thing. It simply wouldn’t respond to chemo/ radio.
I freaked. I’d had so many gynaecology issues prior to anything I’ve so far written ( for example by the point I was with out my tubes) that decided, that I was basically going to hit peri menopause within 5 years anyway so, let’s just take everything, my cervix, my uterus, my one remaining ovary. Get the lot out. HRT wise, oestrogen gel or patches would be post surgery and safer. So we went for it.
Note on my husband. He was married before and had two delightful children. They were and are extremely important to me. We have an excellent relationship. Their mum is not in my opinion of that of social services is not good mother. She walks the line of neglect. If she were working class she’d have had the children removed, but she is not working class.
Again, operation went fine. Ok so it was open surgery but I hey at least the lot was out! All alone due to covid I had a pleasant three night stay.
Went home, stepchildren were there. They had missed me. So naturally they sat on my bed. Being children they moved, kicked the bed, It hurt me but they were trying their best to be with me. A tiny part of me , the part that was aware that I’d never be a mother now felt like this was a sick joke. I wanted to scream at my husband, I wanted to tell him how stupid he was for letting his children do this to me. How cruel it was their mother didn’t even care. I then thought about how upset they’d be to hear any of my bitter thoughts. So I found myself giving the children reassurance. I was fine, just recovering, that actually yes their favourite cuddle toys were making me feel better. How Miss ‘ Scary ‘ at school was actually being unkind to a child in their class. Etc. They went to bed saying that they’d been concerned i would be different after being in hospital and as long as I kept my end of the bargain up , that I’d be mobile in a short while they were relieved I was still me.
I’m in emotional turmoil.
