Exam Under Anasthaetic...three days after starting a new job.

My timing has always been impeccably bad. I'm constantly the person that'll phone wanting a deep n meaningful chat just as you're about to go out. So it shouldn't have surprised me that my next stage of diagnosis was to happen in the first week of training in not only a new job, but a totally new career path. Part of my life laundry at hitting 30 was to get a 'proper job', which meant leaving the comfort zone of my cushy 20 hours a week job behind a deli counter. Now, I was training to be a telesales/customer service agent, which meant a 2 hour commute, wearing smart clothes, and generally pulling my professional socks up. At least the stress of the incoming new job helped take my mind off the 'suspicious' lump they'd found... It's funny how the human mind works - I didn't have the time to worry about potentially having cancer, as each day threw up more imininent new stresses, like which train was going to get me there on time, where the damn iron was (I hadn't used an iron since school days) and adjusting to the new office hours that prevented me speaking to the clinic during the day. Unfortunately, (unbeknownst to me due to an unreliable message service on the mobile), I missed the date of my Pre-op, which would literally have been the Monday the job started. So I kept phoning the lovely nurses at Colposcopy and finally confirmed I would need to come in on the Thursday that week. OK fine, I thought, get it done, back in on the Friday, easy. Except they then explained I'd be going under General Anaesthetic for a Biopsy. WTF?!!! I wouldn't be going back until the next week?!! Brilliant. What would the new job think of me? I've been a pub manager; I've had staff work for me, and although coming across as sympathetic, I could never help disbelieving the whines of 'got a doctor's appoinment' as an excuse for bunking off work. Ok, this was just a tad (?!) more serious, but had I been on the receiving end of it, I'd have thought 'Uh oh, is this new staff member going to be a bit of a timekeeping liability?'. Fortunately, the Training Manager was lovely, and was happy as long as I kept him informed. I'd need to take the week off anyway and pick the training up the Thursday of the next week, so I suppose it worked out. The day of the operation came. As I'd missed the pe-op, I had a series of nurses flying at me, wanting bloods, MRSA swab, personal details, inner legs measurements and endless repeated questions about my previous medical history. It was also the first time I'd been weighed in ages, and I got my BMI.. all kind of interesting stuff. As I've said before, I'd never been in hospital before, so I guess I was making up for lost time. And I'd never felt so popular and in demand! :-) It was all going well. Until I came to the doors that said 'Theatre and Recovery'. Another attack of the uncontrollable tears, this time with a slight leg buckling. But thanks to the awsomely lovely nurse, I got through the Next Stage Panic, then went to get hooked up to monitors and gadgets I'd only ever seen on Holby City. I'd never seen my heart beating as a beeping line before! After a little spike in my hand, they told me I would feel like I'd had a Gin and Tonic. The last thing I remebered was the oxygen mask going over my face... ...I then woke up after what felt like the best sleep I'd had in years. The nurses in recovery said I wouldn't remember them.. so I desparately tried to fix their image in my mind. I can still just about picture them, and I do remember jibbering a bit about how great I felt.. and did say I quite liked their version of a G and T (I was later told I'd been 'very spritely')! So it was done. Apart from a slight scare on using the loo the first time, and seeing the yellow iodine antiseptic they'd covered my pelvic area with, the cuppa they made me was the best I'd ever tasted (I hadn't been too pleased at being Nil By Mouth, but they had their reasons!). I felt normal by then, but when my lovely other half came to pick me up, I jibbered inanely at him about how exciting my day had been... then rabbited on somemore, then jibbered on a bit more... I was still high. I now understood why I had to take it easy for a couple of days. But I tell you what, I wish they could prescribe that anaesthetic just for a bit of a pick-me-up!