I’m sure this whole lymph node thing is a mr lupus production.
But sitting around waiting for something to happen or not is no fun at all and is almost worst than the pain itself but if it was anything serious they would have seen it by now wouldn’t they?
I am convinced that mr lupus clearly knows that there is nothing seriously wrong so to keep me occupied I now have another lump in the very area of the biopsy which we are not yet able to identify.
mr lupus really seems to be on a crusade this year. I have decided that it is a bit like being on a detox where all of the crap needs to come out before you can look and feel healthier.
So there you have it I am on a ‘lupus detox’, which means that when I come out of the other side I will be free from mr lupus and his antics.
Well that’s my theory and I am sticking to it
Monday, April 06, 2009
Saturday, April 04, 2009
And no George Clooney in sight!
How is it that after watching so many hospital dramas I have not been able to find one good looking, to die for (pardon my pun) doctor on all my trips and stays in hospital? (Answers on a postcard please)
The operating theatre was smaller than I had imagined, stark and white with a accent of silver. I imagined the operating table to be wider and the feel of the place to be less clinical.
The nurse was friendly and had warned me about the bright lights and all of the people who would be there. It seemed like the staff waiting room when there was nothing else going on they could come and hang out and watch. Definitely not for the feint hearted.
I couldn’t believe that I had actually consented. I knew that I had because they had twice checked my signature on the consent form but I was clearly under the influence why else would I have willingly done that. I had consented for them to cut my throat (okay my neck) whilst I was awake. That had to be utter madness, after all why would anybody in their right mind do that (which probably answers some of those other questions)
At least I wasn’t living in the days when there was sawdust of the floor and patients being instructed to bite down, but seriously cutting my neck whilst I’m awake. I don’t even like having blood taken and we know how often I have to do that. I was good, you would have been proud of me, although when the 10 minutes turned into 30 I was getting just a little agitated and any novel factor that existed had almost certainly worn off and I could swear that mr lupus was in the room laughing at my expense.
I had two surgeons, which they assured me it was because I was special (okay it might have been me who suggested that) and between the two of them they eventually managed to prise my lymph node from its depths.
This is where it all went pear shaped and I discovered just how insensitive doctors can be. I had focused so much on the operation that there had been little space in my mind for ‘the results’ and then one doctor casually said to another “it looks like *****” I didn’t hear the “*****” because I got stuck at the “it looks like...” and tears started to roll down my cheek. (Tears are amazing how do they know when to show up?)
I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know but now as I wait for the results I’m not sure that was one of my better ideas.
Because of its size I was told I could give it a name, so Joey was introduced to me and the outside world before being sent off to explain himself to the experts.
Am I worried about the results, a little but then worry never got you anywhere did it?!
The operating theatre was smaller than I had imagined, stark and white with a accent of silver. I imagined the operating table to be wider and the feel of the place to be less clinical.
The nurse was friendly and had warned me about the bright lights and all of the people who would be there. It seemed like the staff waiting room when there was nothing else going on they could come and hang out and watch. Definitely not for the feint hearted.
I couldn’t believe that I had actually consented. I knew that I had because they had twice checked my signature on the consent form but I was clearly under the influence why else would I have willingly done that. I had consented for them to cut my throat (okay my neck) whilst I was awake. That had to be utter madness, after all why would anybody in their right mind do that (which probably answers some of those other questions)
At least I wasn’t living in the days when there was sawdust of the floor and patients being instructed to bite down, but seriously cutting my neck whilst I’m awake. I don’t even like having blood taken and we know how often I have to do that. I was good, you would have been proud of me, although when the 10 minutes turned into 30 I was getting just a little agitated and any novel factor that existed had almost certainly worn off and I could swear that mr lupus was in the room laughing at my expense.
I had two surgeons, which they assured me it was because I was special (okay it might have been me who suggested that) and between the two of them they eventually managed to prise my lymph node from its depths.
This is where it all went pear shaped and I discovered just how insensitive doctors can be. I had focused so much on the operation that there had been little space in my mind for ‘the results’ and then one doctor casually said to another “it looks like *****” I didn’t hear the “*****” because I got stuck at the “it looks like...” and tears started to roll down my cheek. (Tears are amazing how do they know when to show up?)
I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know but now as I wait for the results I’m not sure that was one of my better ideas.
Because of its size I was told I could give it a name, so Joey was introduced to me and the outside world before being sent off to explain himself to the experts.
Am I worried about the results, a little but then worry never got you anywhere did it?!
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Have you lost weight recently?
I was really excited the night I went to sleep and woke up a size thinner okay maybe it wasn’t quite an overnight thing but it sure felt that way. One day the clothes I was wearing as a result of the steroids clung snugly to my hips the next day they didn’t and I found I could step in and out of jeans without having to unzip them. How cool is that!!
Although there were still some ‘tummy’ issues I was excited as I could actually parade around, hold my stomach in and pretend I had a six pack and it became believable and people started to comment on my new look. I was even able to take things out of the jumble bag because they now fit me and then all of that turned sour by the uttering of one simple question:
“Have you lost weight recently?”
Now don’t get me wrong there is nothing wrong with the question, in fact I would happily answer “yes” to anyone who asked. The problem here was the source of the question; the way in which the question was uttered; the fact that it had been asked several times and always in response to pain and swollen lymph nodes which incidentally were not responding to the cocktail of drugs being administered and lastly the fact that as soon as I proudly said “yes” the questioner immediately bowed their head and started writing.
How could the joy of dropping a dress size suddenly become a sinister occurrence?
I had had an uneventful lupus few days was this one of his tricks to lull me into a false sense of security and then pounce or was it something more sinister and he had teamed up with one of his friends to whack me from behind and trip me up all designed to keep me under his thumb?
It definitely threw a spanner in the works but on Friday 13th (it’s okay I’m not superstitious) all would be revealed they were going to operate!
Although there were still some ‘tummy’ issues I was excited as I could actually parade around, hold my stomach in and pretend I had a six pack and it became believable and people started to comment on my new look. I was even able to take things out of the jumble bag because they now fit me and then all of that turned sour by the uttering of one simple question:
“Have you lost weight recently?”
Now don’t get me wrong there is nothing wrong with the question, in fact I would happily answer “yes” to anyone who asked. The problem here was the source of the question; the way in which the question was uttered; the fact that it had been asked several times and always in response to pain and swollen lymph nodes which incidentally were not responding to the cocktail of drugs being administered and lastly the fact that as soon as I proudly said “yes” the questioner immediately bowed their head and started writing.
How could the joy of dropping a dress size suddenly become a sinister occurrence?
I had had an uneventful lupus few days was this one of his tricks to lull me into a false sense of security and then pounce or was it something more sinister and he had teamed up with one of his friends to whack me from behind and trip me up all designed to keep me under his thumb?
It definitely threw a spanner in the works but on Friday 13th (it’s okay I’m not superstitious) all would be revealed they were going to operate!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
