I am just sitting here thinking how quickly our lives and routines can change, and how we sometimes let these changes upset us.
I recently went for the dreaded smear test, as soon as I was out of the doctors surgery it was forgotten and lost in amongst all the other million things that are racing around in my head. Until, a couple of days later I had a call from my Doctor receptionist to say there were abnormal cells found in the smear test and to expect a hospital appointment through the post, if I hadn't received it within a week I had to call the receptionist and she would chase it up, equally if I had heard from the hospital could I ring and let the receptionist know! Thank you!
I truly felt like I had been hit by a bus, my brain completely emptied of any useful thoughts and I just couldn't function properly. I kept telling myself that once I had the appointment I would feel better....that didn't work, as promised the letter arrived within a week offering me a appointment at Bedford hospital in three weeks. All I have been through in my life was nothing compared to that three week wait!
I have stuffed my face constantly, whyyyyy cant I be one of those people who stop eating when I am stressed, its just not bloody fair! I recon I have put on two stone!
The longest three weeks ever found me tearful, cranky, unable to focus or tolerate anyone....literally ANYONE, my mind started playing games, noticing changes in my body which I hadn't noticed before, although those changes might have been there before and I just hadn't noticed them!!!
The morning of the appointment I felt so sick I just wanted to go back to bed and forget it was happening. Unfortunately this was not an option so I was dragged to the hospital.
The appointment was at 9am, if I needed treatment it would start on the day or if I needed surgery I would be given a date at the appointment, so in my tiny little head I had prepared myself for the worst cos anything other than that is a bonus right?...
The nurses at the hospital were fantastic, very soothing and reassuring, and as I changed into my very fetching open backed hospital gown, I couldn't help thinking how lucky I was that I was first on the list before other ladies sat on the same chair, mine would be all done while they where still sitting in the waiting room!
As It happens, the doctor did find some what they call pre cancerous cells, just a small sprinkling, the Doctor said that he wouldn't treat them at the moment but I will need regular check ups to monitor them.
It took ages for the information to sink in to my brain as I had convinced myself that I would have the very worst news. As I sat in the car on the way home the information started to sink in, I felt like a complete twat, worrying about something that wasn't as bad as I thought, then I felt foolish, all the millions of people around the world, who do receive the very worst news, how the hell do they cope, I have had a very small encounter with the 'C' word, what I have been through over the last month is nothing compared to the brave souls who are living with and fighting this disease, and what about the strain on their families and the people that love them, its the fear of the unknown and being completely out of control of the situation that scared me the most, and I was unable to take the worry away from my family.
By the time we got home my brain had started to function normally, I had felt like I couldn't move forward, there were birthday cards I needed to buy and send, bills that I had ignored and phone calls I needed to deal with, all these things I managed to catch up with by the end of the day.
You never really know what's going on in someone's life, the person standing at the till in a supermarket with a long line of shoppers behind them as they fumble around trying to get their bank card into the card reader the right way around, just might not be doing it on purpose, I will try to repress my irritation and remember not everyone is as lucky as me and comes away from a hospital appointment with the news they wanted to hear.
So, as I stood at the train station at 6.30am this morning, as daughter number one had caught the 5.40am train into London, but as she got off the train at Kings Cross had realised that she had left her travel card on the kitchen table, I tried to remember how lucky I am, after all its only a train ticket no one is gonna die...I was quite prepared to get the train to London and give her the ticket so she could continue with the journey, but as it happened the problem was resolved very easily as she brought a new ticket at the barrier on platform one KC, and I managed to get a refund for the original ticket here in Arlesey.
I will leave you now with a photo of my little mate, who has also been upset by all the emotion in our house, its funny how dogs can sense what's going on...xx
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