Yes I have joined the 1 in 3 and soon to be 1 in 2 people personally affected by that, often not talked about word, cancer.
In November I was rushed into A&E and hospitalised. A few quick tests soon identified that a growth in the bladder was to blame and it would have to be removed as soon as possible to find out what it was.
Three weeks later I was in for some remarkable key-hole surgery through a part of the body I’d still rather not think about, but let’s just say I have had two very nasty experiences now with two very large catheters that I would prefer not to go through again.
The offending article, or bits of it, were off to the path lab and I was off for the CT and MRI scans to find out whether it had travelled and, if so, how far.
Unfortunately The Christmas and New Year’s holidays got in the way of a speedy diagnosis and it was not until the middle of January that we faced the Consultant for the prognosis.
I am not quite sure how we got through that period of time. Not knowing whether I had six months, six years or whether I could get as much money out of my pension pot as I’d intended. But survive we did and I shall eternally thankful to my ever-loving wife for helping me get through it and for putting up with my incredibly bad moods and depressive swings that I went through. Yes, I got the “why mes?” and I was scared stiff.
However get through it we did and I shall never forget the words of the Consultant when he said, “The good news is…”.
So although it is an aggressive cancer it is treatable and doesn’t appear to have spread anywhere else. The bad news is that the bladder has to go and for the best possible outcome chemotherapy before the operation is advisable.
Now here comes one of the big ironies of the whole situation. Up until 4 weeks ago I did’t feel ill at all. I was just as fit and healthy feeling as I have been for ages. It was only a month before I was stricken that we were cruising around the Canary Islands with some lovely American friends and I was feeling fine.
However here I am now, suffering badly from stomach cramps and feeling awful after having toxic muck pumped into my body for weeks. And to think that this is being done voluntarily. Funnily enough my bad moods haven’t improved much.
What I will say is that throughout all of the the local NHS Trust has been very good to me. Yes there has been a lot of waiting about and things have not always gone to plan, but in general the care has been top notch, which is more than can be said for the quality of the food. But perhaps that’s a future blog.
So that is why my tweets have dropped to a trickle. But I hope I shall be back soon, just some more surgery to face first. Once that’s over I hope to return to the fight for a decent education for our children. But by then there will have been a General Election. Perhaps that may improve my temper!