31 days. Today, it's been a month since Dr Berardinucci told me what he thought was going on. In a month I have changed countries, put my life on hold, had several doctors appointments, had an operation, had a CT scan, and am now recovering. I remember around Day 5, I commented on how slow everything was going, but now I can't believe it's been a whole month. So much to change in a month. So, so much.
I had a few medical encounters in the last few days. Three days ago I went to my local GP, as I was worried about my swelling. I set up an appointment in the morning, then headed there near midday. I talked to a Dr Sharif, who I am not sure if I've talked to before. He checked my wound and checked my swelling, told me the wound was healing fine and the swelling feels like just blood and should go down on its own. He did put me on antibiotics however, which I've been taking and they have been helping.
Strangely enough, he seemed more interested in me emotionally than physically. He asked me how I'd been coping with the whole situation, and asked exactly what happened since the circumstances are quite odd. I told him my amazing tale, about how much things would have cost in the USA, and about my visa. He laughed when I told him the woman at the USCIS counter in Texas cried, and joked that I seemed to be taking it better than she did. He told me he has a sister who lives in Texas, and advised me that the visa should be easier now we're married. We'll see.
I still haven't heard anything from the US government, but Megan hasn't hardly been in touch with home, so maybe some mail has come by now?
Anyway, the antibiotics seem to be working, so that's good. I'm weaning myself off painkillers now too, so I'm a bit tender and have little stabs of pain from time to time, but it all seems to be going okay. Well, it will be, if my scan results come back clear.
So, my scan. Day before yesterday, 21st Sep, I went to MK hospital once again for my CT scan. I arrived on time, and I'd followed the eating/drinking rules, no food for 3 hours beforehand, no drinking for 1 hour beforehand. A few minutes after I arrived, a nurse came out bearing two medium sized bottles. I was told that my scan would be in about an hour, and I had to drink all the milky white solution between now and then. Megan seemed more interested in it than I was, all I can remember now is that it was some kind of sodium solution, diluted with water, that contained barium. Fun.
I assume it was so stuff would show up on the scan, so I started drinking. I was still allowed to use the restroom during the hour, which is good as I did need to a few times. About 50 minutes later, another nurse comes by to take me to the scanning area. I tell her I hadn't quite finished my solution, but she told me it would be fine and disposed of the bottles.
I got changed into a fetching blue gown and took another seat. A little uncomfortable sitting in a gown in a small waiting room with people in normal clothes, but hey. About 15 minutes later I was called in.
I'd never had a CT scan before, and wasn't sure what to expect, but basically it is this: you lay on a table which has the ability to raise and lower, as well as move lengthways. You raise up and slowly move lengthways until your legs are inside this giant mechanical ring, which contains a spinning device that takes the scan. Everybody has to leave the room for the actual scan, and the machine tells you to hold your breath while it takes them. A few scans in, the radiographer comes back in and tells me it's going fine, but I need an iodine injection and then a few more scans.
To this day I am not sure if everyone needs to drink and have an injection, or if the drink just didn't work its way around my system. I didn't think of asking. Regardless, my recent luck with needles resurfaced as neither man could find any of my veins. I had a man on either side of me, tapping my arms and hands, all fruitlessly. Eventually they decided to try putting the drip into my right hand, again fruitlessly, so now I have a bruise there to match the anaesthetic bruise on my left hand.
They then got who I assume was a master phlebotomist in, who found a vein in my left forearm and injected immediately. I wish everyone was that fast. I felt the iodine flow around my body, it makes you feel very warm and funnily enough it makes you feel that you are peeing. I'm glad it just makes you feel, not actually do.
Regardless, they left the room again, and a few more minutes later I was done. I got up woozily, went and got changed, then waited yet another 20 minutes for them to remove the drip syringe from my arm. Once that was done, and I was covered in tiny pinprick holes once more, I was free to go.
So at this point, medically, I am waiting for my appointment with Mr Andrews, the urologist, which will be in about another 2 or 3 weeks. Non-medically, I am now seeking work, I guess, although I have half a mind to just wait until I see Mr Andrews in case I need anything else done. But still, I have to do something, I feel kind of useless just sitting around.
But we'll see what happens. And when something does, I'll let you know, blog.
Smell ya later.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Recovery - Days 23, 24 + 25
Argh, my body aches!
I took off my bandages day before yesterday. The most relieving were my leg stockings, it was so nice to be able to scratch my legs again. I don't think hairy legs and stockings really mix too well.
I also took off the support bandages around my groin, and the suture plaster itself. The wound is healing, a little gross looking but not inflamed or anything. Doesn't even hurt that much to touch it, I just have to make sure I don't poke it or anything. Here's hoping for zero infections!
As for how I feel in general.. I'm still mixed. I don't really feel very settled in, but maybe I just need to give it more time. Due to my circumstances it kind of feels like I am a guest here, like I'm visiting.. but at the same time, it also feels like I was just visiting the USA. It's a strange feeling, kind of a sense of not belonging. But like I said, maybe I just haven't been here long enough.
I am signing back up for Jobseeker's again, and I have my appointment on Monday.. hooray. I sure missed that. I don't know if I'm going to manage to work while I'm here, but if I am here for the long haul, hopefully I will. It would be nice to have money again. I miss that, too.
Megan has been whisked away by one of my friends today. She spent yesterday morning with my mum up the allotment. I'm happy she is getting out, and I hope she enjoys it. I can't really imagine how she feels at the moment. I don't even really know how I feel.
But, the important thing, I guess, is that I seem to be healing. I just wish I could hurry up and have my scan. I want to know what to expect, but I guess in life we never really know what to expect. You just have to roll with the punches.
Unfortunately, at the moment it hurts to roll. Ouch.
I took off my bandages day before yesterday. The most relieving were my leg stockings, it was so nice to be able to scratch my legs again. I don't think hairy legs and stockings really mix too well.
I also took off the support bandages around my groin, and the suture plaster itself. The wound is healing, a little gross looking but not inflamed or anything. Doesn't even hurt that much to touch it, I just have to make sure I don't poke it or anything. Here's hoping for zero infections!
As for how I feel in general.. I'm still mixed. I don't really feel very settled in, but maybe I just need to give it more time. Due to my circumstances it kind of feels like I am a guest here, like I'm visiting.. but at the same time, it also feels like I was just visiting the USA. It's a strange feeling, kind of a sense of not belonging. But like I said, maybe I just haven't been here long enough.
I am signing back up for Jobseeker's again, and I have my appointment on Monday.. hooray. I sure missed that. I don't know if I'm going to manage to work while I'm here, but if I am here for the long haul, hopefully I will. It would be nice to have money again. I miss that, too.
Megan has been whisked away by one of my friends today. She spent yesterday morning with my mum up the allotment. I'm happy she is getting out, and I hope she enjoys it. I can't really imagine how she feels at the moment. I don't even really know how I feel.
But, the important thing, I guess, is that I seem to be healing. I just wish I could hurry up and have my scan. I want to know what to expect, but I guess in life we never really know what to expect. You just have to roll with the punches.
Unfortunately, at the moment it hurts to roll. Ouch.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Surgery Day & Day 22
Hoo boy. Surgery day. The most fun possible to have at a hospital?? I think so!
I had to get there around 11:30am, which I did. I felt fine, a little bit nervous but nothing major. Megan and my mum came in with me, but within 20 minutes I was called to a back room and they had to leave. Another attempt later (the first time the lady came to get me, she didn't actually tell us to come with her, and while I was saying bye, I got locked out of the room. A few more minutes waiting brought her back, though.) I was taken into a back room and showed to a bed.
The bed had upon it an open-backed robe, a large towel and a large sheet. The curtained-off room also contained a small empty blue crate and a small chair. I was not sure if I was supposed to change into the robe or not, so I just waited. After about 10 minutes of waiting I walked to the little reception that the ward had and asked, and was told that a nurse would come along and explain things soon. So I went back and waited.
Shortly, an "assistant to Mr Andrews" turned up. He introduced himself to everyone like that, no names. I thought that was pretty strange. He asked me some questions, basic ones about smoking/eating etc, then left pretty quickly. A little bizarre I thought, but whatever.
I'm glad I brought my book (still reading Wheel of Time) as I'd gotten through about 3 chapters before the nurse showed up. She got me to lay on the bed, and told me she had to take my blood pressure and, surprise surprise, a blood sample. Again. Apparently the sample they took in A&E didn't have "enough blood in it". Neat. So I talked her through the last attempts to draw blood, and how little success the other MK nurse had. I also had only drunk 1 cup of water that morning (I'm only allowed to drink 2 anyway, and I didn't think they'd be taking more blood!) so my veins didn't show up very well. So she stabbed me in the arm twice to no avail, then stabbed in in the hand twice too. Eventually she got some, and it was the slowest draining blood in the whole world ever. I never look, I always just stare at the ceiling, but my neck started to hurt so I looked. The vial was very slow at filling up, I tried relaxing, tried breathing deeper, but all that did was make me want to pass out.
She finally finished just in time, as I'm almost certain I would have passed out if I didn't lay down at that point. She apologized for how long it took, and told me to change into the robe when I feel better and the anaesthetist will be along shortly. I asked if I needed to remove all clothes first, and she told me I could keep my boxers on until they come to take me to the theatre. I also stupidly asked for some water to calm my nerves, but I wasn't allowed to drink anything else. Oh, also, she told me my blood pressure was kind of high, but she chalked that up to nervousness. Apparently I was more nervous than I felt.
After a short while I did change, the robe wasn't too uncomfortable although I had trouble tying up the second tie. The anaesthetist came in shortly, she didn't do anything other than double check questions I'd been asked before.. whether I smoke, whether I've ever smoked, if I use drugs, the last time I ate/drank, stuff like that. She seemed happy with the answers, and left saying she would "see me later". I guess she would!
Another few chapters later some other nurse came by just to check I was okay, and explained the procedure to me. I already knew how the op would go, and what he said sounded right, so I agreed to it. He then started to put up the side of my bed to take me away. He left after doing that, so when another nurse came by I told her I was still wearing my boxers. She agreed that wasn't a good idea for the procedure I was having, so she left while I took them off and laid back on the bed.
Then after a few more questions and another blood pressure test, I was off. I was taken to the operating theatre door, then the nurse went inside. He returned with the anaesthetist's assistant, who asked me the same questions again. She also asked how long it's been since I noticed the swelling, and how I noticed it. She asked about the USA and my wife, and then I realised she was just trying to chill me out. I got wheeled into the anaesthetist's room, and the woman from earlier was in there. A man who I am assuming was a surgeon was also in attendance. He double checked the op I was having, double checked which side, then after inspecting it, drew an arrow on my right leg. It's still on there now. Can't be too careful, I guess.
I had my blood pressure taken one last time (I swear it was taken like 54 times over the whole day), I had a cannula attached to my wrist, and I had a gas mask put on. As the anaesthetist told me it would be a matter of seconds, her assistant told me to think of something nice. Like my wife. I laughed as I closed my eyes. The last thing I saw was the clock pointing to 1:45pm.
Then, after what seemed like moments, I woke up in the recovery room. I can't really describe the feeling of waking up from anaesthetic. It's like your body is fighting to wake up, but your brain can't work fast enough. I think I handled it quite well, I just kept trying to raise my head but was finding it difficult to manage. A disembodied voice to my right told me where I was, and that the operation was all over. I tried to make a joke about it only being 5 seconds since I was in the anaesthetist's room, but I think it came out as a mumble.
A women in a bed to my left kept trying to turn over, and what I'm guessing was a nurse kept telling her she had to lay on her back. She just looked asleep. Maybe she hadn't fully come around yet. I looked around and noticed the recovery room was quite huge. And quite empty, just like me, the lady to my left, and one or two other beds. I shut my eyes again, and suddenly I was back in the ward I started in. I really don't remember falling asleep nor do I remember being wheeled back. Such a strange feeling.
And that's about it. I slowly recovered in the ward (slowly. VERY slowly.), surrounded by the same patients that were there beforehand (I was in the corner, and there was an old man in front of me, to the side and diagonally in front too. Funny, that.). I turned down tea or coffee, and asked for water. I also had a sandwich after what seemed like 12 hours of waiting (but it was probably about half an hour). Then I pretty much just laid there, too awake to sleep but too groggy to read my book.
My entire abdomen felt like a giant ache. Nothing felt really painful, but nothing felt very comfortable either. Eventually the nurse that drew blood earlier came by and took me to the bathroom to see if I could go. After a very hobbling walk there and much debating between different areas of my body, it turned out I could go, and I told the nurse such. She went to get the discharge paperwork and told me to get dressed.
I buzzed for help when I got back as the cannula syringe was still in my hand, and washing my hands in the bathroom caused it to leak. A nurse came and removed it quickly, I don't really think it was supposed to still be in, and I got dressed. Awkwardly.
I saw (awkwardly) in the chair and waited. Another nurse came by and took me to the ward next door, filled in some papers (apparently I am not allowed to operate heavy or light machinery, eat heavy foods or sign important legal documents in the next 48 hours), then my mum was phoned up. While she was on the way, the nurse explained what had happened in the operation, and that it seemed like a total success. The consultant, Mr Andrews, wants to see me again in 4 weeks, and I still have my CT scan next week. I was also told when I can remove my bandages, etc. Then I was taken home, and slept most of the time between then and now (very awkwardly).
So here I am, still bandaged up, one testicle down. I haven't looked at anything yet, as the bandages are pretty thorough (I am basically wearing a giant old lady's underwear made of bandage). I'm allowed to take them off tomorrow evening, but I have to be very careful for a week after that. No boiling hot baths. No stretching. Stuff like that.
I don't think that'll be a problem.
I had to get there around 11:30am, which I did. I felt fine, a little bit nervous but nothing major. Megan and my mum came in with me, but within 20 minutes I was called to a back room and they had to leave. Another attempt later (the first time the lady came to get me, she didn't actually tell us to come with her, and while I was saying bye, I got locked out of the room. A few more minutes waiting brought her back, though.) I was taken into a back room and showed to a bed.
The bed had upon it an open-backed robe, a large towel and a large sheet. The curtained-off room also contained a small empty blue crate and a small chair. I was not sure if I was supposed to change into the robe or not, so I just waited. After about 10 minutes of waiting I walked to the little reception that the ward had and asked, and was told that a nurse would come along and explain things soon. So I went back and waited.
Shortly, an "assistant to Mr Andrews" turned up. He introduced himself to everyone like that, no names. I thought that was pretty strange. He asked me some questions, basic ones about smoking/eating etc, then left pretty quickly. A little bizarre I thought, but whatever.
I'm glad I brought my book (still reading Wheel of Time) as I'd gotten through about 3 chapters before the nurse showed up. She got me to lay on the bed, and told me she had to take my blood pressure and, surprise surprise, a blood sample. Again. Apparently the sample they took in A&E didn't have "enough blood in it". Neat. So I talked her through the last attempts to draw blood, and how little success the other MK nurse had. I also had only drunk 1 cup of water that morning (I'm only allowed to drink 2 anyway, and I didn't think they'd be taking more blood!) so my veins didn't show up very well. So she stabbed me in the arm twice to no avail, then stabbed in in the hand twice too. Eventually she got some, and it was the slowest draining blood in the whole world ever. I never look, I always just stare at the ceiling, but my neck started to hurt so I looked. The vial was very slow at filling up, I tried relaxing, tried breathing deeper, but all that did was make me want to pass out.
She finally finished just in time, as I'm almost certain I would have passed out if I didn't lay down at that point. She apologized for how long it took, and told me to change into the robe when I feel better and the anaesthetist will be along shortly. I asked if I needed to remove all clothes first, and she told me I could keep my boxers on until they come to take me to the theatre. I also stupidly asked for some water to calm my nerves, but I wasn't allowed to drink anything else. Oh, also, she told me my blood pressure was kind of high, but she chalked that up to nervousness. Apparently I was more nervous than I felt.
After a short while I did change, the robe wasn't too uncomfortable although I had trouble tying up the second tie. The anaesthetist came in shortly, she didn't do anything other than double check questions I'd been asked before.. whether I smoke, whether I've ever smoked, if I use drugs, the last time I ate/drank, stuff like that. She seemed happy with the answers, and left saying she would "see me later". I guess she would!
Another few chapters later some other nurse came by just to check I was okay, and explained the procedure to me. I already knew how the op would go, and what he said sounded right, so I agreed to it. He then started to put up the side of my bed to take me away. He left after doing that, so when another nurse came by I told her I was still wearing my boxers. She agreed that wasn't a good idea for the procedure I was having, so she left while I took them off and laid back on the bed.
Then after a few more questions and another blood pressure test, I was off. I was taken to the operating theatre door, then the nurse went inside. He returned with the anaesthetist's assistant, who asked me the same questions again. She also asked how long it's been since I noticed the swelling, and how I noticed it. She asked about the USA and my wife, and then I realised she was just trying to chill me out. I got wheeled into the anaesthetist's room, and the woman from earlier was in there. A man who I am assuming was a surgeon was also in attendance. He double checked the op I was having, double checked which side, then after inspecting it, drew an arrow on my right leg. It's still on there now. Can't be too careful, I guess.
I had my blood pressure taken one last time (I swear it was taken like 54 times over the whole day), I had a cannula attached to my wrist, and I had a gas mask put on. As the anaesthetist told me it would be a matter of seconds, her assistant told me to think of something nice. Like my wife. I laughed as I closed my eyes. The last thing I saw was the clock pointing to 1:45pm.
Then, after what seemed like moments, I woke up in the recovery room. I can't really describe the feeling of waking up from anaesthetic. It's like your body is fighting to wake up, but your brain can't work fast enough. I think I handled it quite well, I just kept trying to raise my head but was finding it difficult to manage. A disembodied voice to my right told me where I was, and that the operation was all over. I tried to make a joke about it only being 5 seconds since I was in the anaesthetist's room, but I think it came out as a mumble.
A women in a bed to my left kept trying to turn over, and what I'm guessing was a nurse kept telling her she had to lay on her back. She just looked asleep. Maybe she hadn't fully come around yet. I looked around and noticed the recovery room was quite huge. And quite empty, just like me, the lady to my left, and one or two other beds. I shut my eyes again, and suddenly I was back in the ward I started in. I really don't remember falling asleep nor do I remember being wheeled back. Such a strange feeling.
And that's about it. I slowly recovered in the ward (slowly. VERY slowly.), surrounded by the same patients that were there beforehand (I was in the corner, and there was an old man in front of me, to the side and diagonally in front too. Funny, that.). I turned down tea or coffee, and asked for water. I also had a sandwich after what seemed like 12 hours of waiting (but it was probably about half an hour). Then I pretty much just laid there, too awake to sleep but too groggy to read my book.
My entire abdomen felt like a giant ache. Nothing felt really painful, but nothing felt very comfortable either. Eventually the nurse that drew blood earlier came by and took me to the bathroom to see if I could go. After a very hobbling walk there and much debating between different areas of my body, it turned out I could go, and I told the nurse such. She went to get the discharge paperwork and told me to get dressed.
I buzzed for help when I got back as the cannula syringe was still in my hand, and washing my hands in the bathroom caused it to leak. A nurse came and removed it quickly, I don't really think it was supposed to still be in, and I got dressed. Awkwardly.
I saw (awkwardly) in the chair and waited. Another nurse came by and took me to the ward next door, filled in some papers (apparently I am not allowed to operate heavy or light machinery, eat heavy foods or sign important legal documents in the next 48 hours), then my mum was phoned up. While she was on the way, the nurse explained what had happened in the operation, and that it seemed like a total success. The consultant, Mr Andrews, wants to see me again in 4 weeks, and I still have my CT scan next week. I was also told when I can remove my bandages, etc. Then I was taken home, and slept most of the time between then and now (very awkwardly).
So here I am, still bandaged up, one testicle down. I haven't looked at anything yet, as the bandages are pretty thorough (I am basically wearing a giant old lady's underwear made of bandage). I'm allowed to take them off tomorrow evening, but I have to be very careful for a week after that. No boiling hot baths. No stretching. Stuff like that.
I don't think that'll be a problem.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Day 19 & Day 20
Just a quick one before I head to bed.
Been back to CARE today, and everything went fine there. Two specimens will hopefully be enough, regardless of what happens.
Just over 12 hours until I have to be at the hospital.. still not really worried.
It's funny how things work, how coincidences form. I was playing a videogame yesterday, and at one point you go into a clinic/hospital. Patients are walking around, and doctors patrol the rooms between surgeries, etc. At one point, a patient and a doctor were having a conversation, and I overheard it.
The patient was asking the doctor about anaesthesia, and the process of it. He asked what it was, and if it was really stopping your heart and letting a machine breathe for you. The doctor said that could happen, depending on how you react under it. The patient then asked if you can dream, and the doctor said not during the surgery, but you may dream as you enter regular sleep after the surgery but before you wake up.
It was interesting as I have totally ignored the anaesthesia part of this so far. I've never been put under general, and have trouble sleeping normally, so now I'm a little edgey about it. But I'm sure it'll be fine. You just have to count backwards, and then you wake up in recovery, right?
The idea of waking up in a different room to the one I fall asleep in is scary. I wonder why.
Well, it'll soon all be over. Well, I hope it will be, anyway. This part will all be over. Then I can think about the future. I just wish I could fall asleep now and wake up with it all done. Bah, you never get anywhere just by wishing.
Roll on Wednesday.
Been back to CARE today, and everything went fine there. Two specimens will hopefully be enough, regardless of what happens.
Just over 12 hours until I have to be at the hospital.. still not really worried.
It's funny how things work, how coincidences form. I was playing a videogame yesterday, and at one point you go into a clinic/hospital. Patients are walking around, and doctors patrol the rooms between surgeries, etc. At one point, a patient and a doctor were having a conversation, and I overheard it.
The patient was asking the doctor about anaesthesia, and the process of it. He asked what it was, and if it was really stopping your heart and letting a machine breathe for you. The doctor said that could happen, depending on how you react under it. The patient then asked if you can dream, and the doctor said not during the surgery, but you may dream as you enter regular sleep after the surgery but before you wake up.
It was interesting as I have totally ignored the anaesthesia part of this so far. I've never been put under general, and have trouble sleeping normally, so now I'm a little edgey about it. But I'm sure it'll be fine. You just have to count backwards, and then you wake up in recovery, right?
The idea of waking up in a different room to the one I fall asleep in is scary. I wonder why.
Well, it'll soon all be over. Well, I hope it will be, anyway. This part will all be over. Then I can think about the future. I just wish I could fall asleep now and wake up with it all done. Bah, you never get anywhere just by wishing.
Roll on Wednesday.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Day 16, 17 & 18
Hello blog. Sorry I haven't been in touch.
Just been relaxing the last few days. Only thing I have to do before Tuesday is go back to CARE on Monday to give another specimen. After that, I'm set for Tuesday.
I have to get to the hospital for 11:45am on Tuesday, and I can eat up until 7am that morning. I should be in and out in the same day, then my CT scan is booked for 10:30am the next Wednesday, the 21st.
So, just lots of waiting around until then. And it's kind of scary. Each night I can feel myself getting a little more uncomfortable, and each day I can feel it a little more swollen. I don't know if it's my imagination at this point or not.
I read a little of the help pamphlet by MacMillan that I was given at the hospital. I only managed a little before I closed it. I understand what cancer is, and I understand that I have it, and that I need an operation and possibly further care to get rid of it. However, it's entirely different when you read about it in technical but very simple terms, about how it might be benign and just be cells reproducing at an alarming rate contained in one area, or how it may be malignant and cells may break off and travel elsewhere to multiply, causing several tumors, and it's different again when you read about tumor markers and sizes and what stage I might be at now and where exactly in the testes the growth started.. it's all wondering without knowing, and therefore I always assume the worst.
I hope I can find out something on Tuesday at least, after the surgery. I hope they can tell me what size the tumor was, and what weight was removed from me. I don't know why, but I feel the weight is important. I guess I want to know how much of me I am losing. Even if most of it is cancerous, it started as a normal body part, and it's my own cells that have been reproducing. It's still a part of me.
It's still weird being back in the UK. I think I got more used to the USA than I thought. Even if it wasn't my own money, I was used to having a set income, and I was used to knowing how much semi-disposable income we had. I got used to actually doing things, even cheap things like seeing dollar movies or getting cheap bad-for-you food. I think I even got used to the loud white noise of the air conditioner while trying to sleep.
Some of my online friends banded together to buy me a game on Steam, which I appreciate. It feels weird, people don't get me random gifts very often, but I do enjoy the sentiment. Hopefully it'll keep me busy during recovery.
Speaking of which, I don't know how long recovery is? The surgery involves cutting into my abdomen and uh.. fishing stuff out through there, so I don't know which part will hurt. It's odd not knowing what to expect. But I'm not scared. I feel like I should be, but I'm not scared.. of the surgery. Of losing a part of me, yes. Of the physical act of doing so, no.
Maybe I'll be scared come Tuesday morning.
Just been relaxing the last few days. Only thing I have to do before Tuesday is go back to CARE on Monday to give another specimen. After that, I'm set for Tuesday.
I have to get to the hospital for 11:45am on Tuesday, and I can eat up until 7am that morning. I should be in and out in the same day, then my CT scan is booked for 10:30am the next Wednesday, the 21st.
So, just lots of waiting around until then. And it's kind of scary. Each night I can feel myself getting a little more uncomfortable, and each day I can feel it a little more swollen. I don't know if it's my imagination at this point or not.
I read a little of the help pamphlet by MacMillan that I was given at the hospital. I only managed a little before I closed it. I understand what cancer is, and I understand that I have it, and that I need an operation and possibly further care to get rid of it. However, it's entirely different when you read about it in technical but very simple terms, about how it might be benign and just be cells reproducing at an alarming rate contained in one area, or how it may be malignant and cells may break off and travel elsewhere to multiply, causing several tumors, and it's different again when you read about tumor markers and sizes and what stage I might be at now and where exactly in the testes the growth started.. it's all wondering without knowing, and therefore I always assume the worst.
I hope I can find out something on Tuesday at least, after the surgery. I hope they can tell me what size the tumor was, and what weight was removed from me. I don't know why, but I feel the weight is important. I guess I want to know how much of me I am losing. Even if most of it is cancerous, it started as a normal body part, and it's my own cells that have been reproducing. It's still a part of me.
It's still weird being back in the UK. I think I got more used to the USA than I thought. Even if it wasn't my own money, I was used to having a set income, and I was used to knowing how much semi-disposable income we had. I got used to actually doing things, even cheap things like seeing dollar movies or getting cheap bad-for-you food. I think I even got used to the loud white noise of the air conditioner while trying to sleep.
Some of my online friends banded together to buy me a game on Steam, which I appreciate. It feels weird, people don't get me random gifts very often, but I do enjoy the sentiment. Hopefully it'll keep me busy during recovery.
Speaking of which, I don't know how long recovery is? The surgery involves cutting into my abdomen and uh.. fishing stuff out through there, so I don't know which part will hurt. It's odd not knowing what to expect. But I'm not scared. I feel like I should be, but I'm not scared.. of the surgery. Of losing a part of me, yes. Of the physical act of doing so, no.
Maybe I'll be scared come Tuesday morning.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Day 15
And I thought yesterday was busy.
Woke up at about 7am this morning, with the alarm set for 8. Felt apprehensive about the coming day. Apprehensive and tired.
Lazily got ready to go out, washed and ate cereal, made sure my phone was charged, etc.
Around 9:15 we headed out to my 9:30 ultrasound appointment. We got there with no problems, I went into the main entrance of the hospital and asked for directions, and within minutes I was at the main X-Ray department. I checked in and Megan and I took our seats.
Within minutes of getting there, I was being called away. I'm not sure why, but I was taken through the entire X-Ray department, through A&E and into the childrens' ultrasound room. I hopped up on the table and a doctor started the ultrasound itself, in a way very similar to the one I had in the USA. Near the end, another doctor came into the room, a Dr Green, I believe. He took over, and asked me what the USA doctor said about the other ultrasound. When I told him he was 95% sure about cancer, the doctor said there was no 95% about it. It was cancerous. He did inform me the other testes was fine, however. "Small compensation", he said, but to me that's a huge bonus.
So, after that was all done, we headed to the urology department, where I had been told my ultrasound results would be "within 10 minutes". Since my ultrasound took so little time, we arrived at the urology department 20 minutes early. We were sitting around until 30 minutes after my appointment was due.
Finally a Dr Choudhary saw me. He went over what the ultrasound found, tumorous material in the right testes. He had a feel around, which was much rougher than the other two doctors, and I still ache a little bit from it now. He asked me if the US doctor told me what was needed, and when I said an operation he agreed. Like Dr Berardanucci told me originally, they incise above in the groin area and remove it through the body, so I'll get a badass scar. He also asked if I wanted a prosthetic replacement. I hadn't really thought about it, but I said sure. Maybe it'll help with post-op feelings. Like a stress ball, you know?
Afterwards he did tell me it doesn't feel like it's spread, but only a CT scan would know for sure.
He then started to set up my appointments. He phoned what I assumed was the operations theatre and booked me an operation for Tuesday the 13th Sep. Not as early as planned but still pretty quick. He also set up a CT scan application for me, and told me it was "urgent". I thought he said it would be done very soon, but it's possible I misheard him. Read on..
After giving me some leaflets and my CT scan papers, he called a nurse in to direct me to a pre-assessment room. I had my blood pressure taken (like.. 5 different times overall, the machines didn't like me today), my weight and height taken, and then I was given a questionnaire to fill in about my general health.
I ticked high blood pressure and cough, as I was diagnosed with high blood pressure a few years ago when I started going to the gym, and I've had a cough since returning to the UK. I was called into another room with another nurse, who took my BP again then stuck some sticky pads to my chest and legs and hooked me up to a machine. I can't remember the name of the machine, but it was due to my slightly high BP. The pads didn't rip off nearly as much hair coming off as I'd predicted.
After that, I was ushered into room number 3, where yet another nurse walked me through the operation procedure. Depending on the time of the op (they will call me to let me know), I have to stop eating at a certain time, yadda-yadda-yadda. All I know is it's on Tuesday.
After aaaall of that, we walked to the other side of the hospital to book my CT scan. I phoned my mum in the meantime and asked her to contact CARE to let them know I might not be coming today, as the CT scan might take a long time. However, when I went to book in the scan, I was told it would be in 2 weeks, after the surgery. I questioned this, and asked why the doctor said it was "urgent" if it takes 2 weeks, but I was told that was normal procedure.
Confused, we walked back to the urology department, and the receptionist there basically told me that "urgent" translates to "in 2 weeks". It's a scan to find out if the cancer spread once they remove it, not before. I'd need to have one post-op anyway, so I wasn't too bothered.
So I phoned mum, she came and picked us up, and I came home. I was going to phone CARE, but I fell asleep. I feel so exhausted all the time at the moment. I'll phone them tomorrow, maybe I can re-book for Monday or something.
So that's my story so far. I feel tired and a mix of scared and relieved. Scared over the fact that this is happening at all, but relieved that it'll be over soon. I hope. Dr Choudhary told me I might need chemo or radiotherapy after the operation, depending on what they and the CT scan find. I hope not. I really hope not.
Come on, I already got cancer, that's enough punishment, right?
Woke up at about 7am this morning, with the alarm set for 8. Felt apprehensive about the coming day. Apprehensive and tired.
Lazily got ready to go out, washed and ate cereal, made sure my phone was charged, etc.
Around 9:15 we headed out to my 9:30 ultrasound appointment. We got there with no problems, I went into the main entrance of the hospital and asked for directions, and within minutes I was at the main X-Ray department. I checked in and Megan and I took our seats.
Within minutes of getting there, I was being called away. I'm not sure why, but I was taken through the entire X-Ray department, through A&E and into the childrens' ultrasound room. I hopped up on the table and a doctor started the ultrasound itself, in a way very similar to the one I had in the USA. Near the end, another doctor came into the room, a Dr Green, I believe. He took over, and asked me what the USA doctor said about the other ultrasound. When I told him he was 95% sure about cancer, the doctor said there was no 95% about it. It was cancerous. He did inform me the other testes was fine, however. "Small compensation", he said, but to me that's a huge bonus.
So, after that was all done, we headed to the urology department, where I had been told my ultrasound results would be "within 10 minutes". Since my ultrasound took so little time, we arrived at the urology department 20 minutes early. We were sitting around until 30 minutes after my appointment was due.
Finally a Dr Choudhary saw me. He went over what the ultrasound found, tumorous material in the right testes. He had a feel around, which was much rougher than the other two doctors, and I still ache a little bit from it now. He asked me if the US doctor told me what was needed, and when I said an operation he agreed. Like Dr Berardanucci told me originally, they incise above in the groin area and remove it through the body, so I'll get a badass scar. He also asked if I wanted a prosthetic replacement. I hadn't really thought about it, but I said sure. Maybe it'll help with post-op feelings. Like a stress ball, you know?
Afterwards he did tell me it doesn't feel like it's spread, but only a CT scan would know for sure.
He then started to set up my appointments. He phoned what I assumed was the operations theatre and booked me an operation for Tuesday the 13th Sep. Not as early as planned but still pretty quick. He also set up a CT scan application for me, and told me it was "urgent". I thought he said it would be done very soon, but it's possible I misheard him. Read on..
After giving me some leaflets and my CT scan papers, he called a nurse in to direct me to a pre-assessment room. I had my blood pressure taken (like.. 5 different times overall, the machines didn't like me today), my weight and height taken, and then I was given a questionnaire to fill in about my general health.
I ticked high blood pressure and cough, as I was diagnosed with high blood pressure a few years ago when I started going to the gym, and I've had a cough since returning to the UK. I was called into another room with another nurse, who took my BP again then stuck some sticky pads to my chest and legs and hooked me up to a machine. I can't remember the name of the machine, but it was due to my slightly high BP. The pads didn't rip off nearly as much hair coming off as I'd predicted.
After that, I was ushered into room number 3, where yet another nurse walked me through the operation procedure. Depending on the time of the op (they will call me to let me know), I have to stop eating at a certain time, yadda-yadda-yadda. All I know is it's on Tuesday.
After aaaall of that, we walked to the other side of the hospital to book my CT scan. I phoned my mum in the meantime and asked her to contact CARE to let them know I might not be coming today, as the CT scan might take a long time. However, when I went to book in the scan, I was told it would be in 2 weeks, after the surgery. I questioned this, and asked why the doctor said it was "urgent" if it takes 2 weeks, but I was told that was normal procedure.
Confused, we walked back to the urology department, and the receptionist there basically told me that "urgent" translates to "in 2 weeks". It's a scan to find out if the cancer spread once they remove it, not before. I'd need to have one post-op anyway, so I wasn't too bothered.
So I phoned mum, she came and picked us up, and I came home. I was going to phone CARE, but I fell asleep. I feel so exhausted all the time at the moment. I'll phone them tomorrow, maybe I can re-book for Monday or something.
So that's my story so far. I feel tired and a mix of scared and relieved. Scared over the fact that this is happening at all, but relieved that it'll be over soon. I hope. Dr Choudhary told me I might need chemo or radiotherapy after the operation, depending on what they and the CT scan find. I hope not. I really hope not.
Come on, I already got cancer, that's enough punishment, right?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Day 14
Fun day today.
Woke up early in time to go to Northampton to visit the CARE fertility clinic for 10:00am. Had no real problems finding it, thanks to Google maps. The lady I spoke to on the phone was in reception, so she went over the basic order of how things will happen, then showed Megan, my mother and I to the waiting room.
We waited for a few minutes. There were free biscuits and drinks there, first British biscuits I've had since I've been back. Good ol' digestives. I was the only man in the waiting room funnily enough.
After a few minutes a nurse came in to take me to a room upstairs, where I had to uh.. deposit a specimen. The help they give you to obtain this, in the form of magazines, were hilarious. There was also a chair AND a clinical bed in the small room. Something for all tastes, huh?
Anyway, I wont go into details in that. I did have to write the time of specimen on the little jar afterwards, though, then headed back downstairs to hand it to the nurse at reception.
Another few minutes of the waiting room later, the same nurse came to take my bloods. She had a much easier time than the nurse at the hospital the day prior, getting it on the first try. I didn't get woozy or anything. Maybe I'm getting used to needles? She told me they only take bloods to make sure they aren't storing any HIV/Hepatitis contaminated specimens.
Yet another few minutes later, another nurse (or was it an embryo specialist?) came to talk me through the consent forms that I needed to sign. All your normal stuff, that I consented to them checking my bloods, that I consented to my specimens being frozen for 10 years, that I knew exactly what was going on, etc. A few strange parts though: first of all, I had to specify my partner in the case that I die or go insane and am not in the position to offer consent myself at the time. Fair enough. The other was far stranger though, I had to consent to the fact that my name can be on the birth certificate of any child born this way. If I didn't sign that, it would show up as Father: Unknown. How spooky! I was tempted to leave it unsigned, but I decided maybe signing it would be for the best.
After signing everything, the nurse explained what would happen next. They would test my specimen to make sure I actually produced what I needed to produce. No point freezing blanks, right? And my condition may have caused my bits to stop producing. Once they've checked it, they'd phone me back to let me know.
With that, we left, after Megan filled in a contact info form in case the worst happens. We drove all the way back and pretty much relaxed the rest of the day. Went shopping, and I tried to mentally prepare for tomorrow. I don't think I succeeded very well.
Anyway, a few hours after getting home, they phoned back. Apparently what I left them was fine, and I had a 13-count of something something something, which apparently is a good number. Well, that's great. They did suggest I go back there tomorrow to make another deposit, as they like to have backups even if they have a good amount. So I'm going back tomorrow afternoon, after my morning appointments.
Hopefully after all those appointments tomorrow, that will be it until the surgery. I hope so. I am getting tired of this now.
Not to mention I picked up a cold somewhere along the lines, be it in Texas, at the airports, in the A&E waiting room, or just running around in the rain after almost forgetting what it looked like.
Ugh, let's just hope I don't sneeze while being operated on. That can't happen, right?!
Woke up early in time to go to Northampton to visit the CARE fertility clinic for 10:00am. Had no real problems finding it, thanks to Google maps. The lady I spoke to on the phone was in reception, so she went over the basic order of how things will happen, then showed Megan, my mother and I to the waiting room.
We waited for a few minutes. There were free biscuits and drinks there, first British biscuits I've had since I've been back. Good ol' digestives. I was the only man in the waiting room funnily enough.
After a few minutes a nurse came in to take me to a room upstairs, where I had to uh.. deposit a specimen. The help they give you to obtain this, in the form of magazines, were hilarious. There was also a chair AND a clinical bed in the small room. Something for all tastes, huh?
Anyway, I wont go into details in that. I did have to write the time of specimen on the little jar afterwards, though, then headed back downstairs to hand it to the nurse at reception.
Another few minutes of the waiting room later, the same nurse came to take my bloods. She had a much easier time than the nurse at the hospital the day prior, getting it on the first try. I didn't get woozy or anything. Maybe I'm getting used to needles? She told me they only take bloods to make sure they aren't storing any HIV/Hepatitis contaminated specimens.
Yet another few minutes later, another nurse (or was it an embryo specialist?) came to talk me through the consent forms that I needed to sign. All your normal stuff, that I consented to them checking my bloods, that I consented to my specimens being frozen for 10 years, that I knew exactly what was going on, etc. A few strange parts though: first of all, I had to specify my partner in the case that I die or go insane and am not in the position to offer consent myself at the time. Fair enough. The other was far stranger though, I had to consent to the fact that my name can be on the birth certificate of any child born this way. If I didn't sign that, it would show up as Father: Unknown. How spooky! I was tempted to leave it unsigned, but I decided maybe signing it would be for the best.
After signing everything, the nurse explained what would happen next. They would test my specimen to make sure I actually produced what I needed to produce. No point freezing blanks, right? And my condition may have caused my bits to stop producing. Once they've checked it, they'd phone me back to let me know.
With that, we left, after Megan filled in a contact info form in case the worst happens. We drove all the way back and pretty much relaxed the rest of the day. Went shopping, and I tried to mentally prepare for tomorrow. I don't think I succeeded very well.
Anyway, a few hours after getting home, they phoned back. Apparently what I left them was fine, and I had a 13-count of something something something, which apparently is a good number. Well, that's great. They did suggest I go back there tomorrow to make another deposit, as they like to have backups even if they have a good amount. So I'm going back tomorrow afternoon, after my morning appointments.
Hopefully after all those appointments tomorrow, that will be it until the surgery. I hope so. I am getting tired of this now.
Not to mention I picked up a cold somewhere along the lines, be it in Texas, at the airports, in the A&E waiting room, or just running around in the rain after almost forgetting what it looked like.
Ugh, let's just hope I don't sneeze while being operated on. That can't happen, right?!
Monday, September 5, 2011
Day 13
Possible the last lazy day for a while..
Woke up super early this morning. Neither Megan nor I are sleeping very well. Well, not at night, anyway. We both decided to stop trying to sleep and wake up at 4am this morning, but since then she has spent 90% of the day in bed. I worry she is coming down with something other than jetlag. Great.
We ate cereal for breakfast, and she fell back asleep. I found that CARE fertility place, and phoned the Milton Keynes office. I was struck by an answering machine message, so I left my number and hung up. Around midday, she phoned back, but I was in the bathroom, my mother was outside, and Megan was half asleep, so she ended up leaving a message for me to call back. We played phone ping pong for an hour or two, until I finally ended up speaking to her around 1pm.
Turns out the MK office cannot do anything for me, and I needed to phone the Northampton headquarters. I did so, got put through to admin, who told me I needed a referral, be it from a GP or a hospital, to use their service. But they put me through to the lab to explain the procedure. Lab however started putting me back through to admin, so at that point I hung up and attempted to call the consultant doctor who saw me yesterday in A&E to ask about a referral.
Somewhere around this time, MK hospital called me up to confirm my ultrasound for 9:30am on Wednesday. Yay. Anyway, I started called Mr Ajuwon on the number he gave me.
Nobody picked up, it just rang forever. Getting rather frustrated, and unable to ask Megan for advice (she was still zzzzzzz), I went downstairs, but as I started to explain the situation to my mum, CARE called back. Someone from the lab explained exactly what I needed, two things: a) a referral from the hospital, and b) funding from the PCT (primary care trust) who governs MK hospital. I provided some details and she went to work acquiring B and left me to get A from the number I had been given the day before.
So I called Mr Ajuwon again and just waited on the line. After about 10 minutes of rings, he picked up. I explained my case and he told me I really needed to phone Mr Anderson, the urologist I was going to be seeing. He gives me a number and tells me to call and that he faxed all my info over to his secretary earlier. So, I do so.
A lady picks up, I explain my case for the 94th time, and she tells me I'd get a referral when I see the urologist, and that he wants to see me on Wednesday after my ultrasound. I guess to decide if I am 100% having surgery or not. She also mentions if I do have surgery, it'll be next week. Great. I hang up, and within 10 minutes the appointment section of MK hospital phones to confirm my urologist appointment for 10:30am Wednesday, after my ultrasound.
Whilst trying to explain all this to Megan, CARE phone me back to ask how I got on. I explain I will get a referral on Wednesday, and she tells me she got funding from the PCT already. They want me to come in two times, one time tomorrow, Tuesday, at 10:00am, and once on Wednesday but I'll arrange that tomorrow.
So yeah, busy few days coming up. Makes me feel a little sick when I think about it, but in 48 hours I will know so much more about what's happening.
Unfortunately, I got so exhausted around 5pm that I laid down next to Megan. It's now 8:30pm and I slept past the time we were going to order Chinese food. Oh well, more sandwiches, I guess.
Woke up super early this morning. Neither Megan nor I are sleeping very well. Well, not at night, anyway. We both decided to stop trying to sleep and wake up at 4am this morning, but since then she has spent 90% of the day in bed. I worry she is coming down with something other than jetlag. Great.
We ate cereal for breakfast, and she fell back asleep. I found that CARE fertility place, and phoned the Milton Keynes office. I was struck by an answering machine message, so I left my number and hung up. Around midday, she phoned back, but I was in the bathroom, my mother was outside, and Megan was half asleep, so she ended up leaving a message for me to call back. We played phone ping pong for an hour or two, until I finally ended up speaking to her around 1pm.
Turns out the MK office cannot do anything for me, and I needed to phone the Northampton headquarters. I did so, got put through to admin, who told me I needed a referral, be it from a GP or a hospital, to use their service. But they put me through to the lab to explain the procedure. Lab however started putting me back through to admin, so at that point I hung up and attempted to call the consultant doctor who saw me yesterday in A&E to ask about a referral.
Somewhere around this time, MK hospital called me up to confirm my ultrasound for 9:30am on Wednesday. Yay. Anyway, I started called Mr Ajuwon on the number he gave me.
Nobody picked up, it just rang forever. Getting rather frustrated, and unable to ask Megan for advice (she was still zzzzzzz), I went downstairs, but as I started to explain the situation to my mum, CARE called back. Someone from the lab explained exactly what I needed, two things: a) a referral from the hospital, and b) funding from the PCT (primary care trust) who governs MK hospital. I provided some details and she went to work acquiring B and left me to get A from the number I had been given the day before.
So I called Mr Ajuwon again and just waited on the line. After about 10 minutes of rings, he picked up. I explained my case and he told me I really needed to phone Mr Anderson, the urologist I was going to be seeing. He gives me a number and tells me to call and that he faxed all my info over to his secretary earlier. So, I do so.
A lady picks up, I explain my case for the 94th time, and she tells me I'd get a referral when I see the urologist, and that he wants to see me on Wednesday after my ultrasound. I guess to decide if I am 100% having surgery or not. She also mentions if I do have surgery, it'll be next week. Great. I hang up, and within 10 minutes the appointment section of MK hospital phones to confirm my urologist appointment for 10:30am Wednesday, after my ultrasound.
Whilst trying to explain all this to Megan, CARE phone me back to ask how I got on. I explain I will get a referral on Wednesday, and she tells me she got funding from the PCT already. They want me to come in two times, one time tomorrow, Tuesday, at 10:00am, and once on Wednesday but I'll arrange that tomorrow.
So yeah, busy few days coming up. Makes me feel a little sick when I think about it, but in 48 hours I will know so much more about what's happening.
Unfortunately, I got so exhausted around 5pm that I laid down next to Megan. It's now 8:30pm and I slept past the time we were going to order Chinese food. Oh well, more sandwiches, I guess.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Day 12
Wow, actual cancer news for once!
Went to MK hospital today. Got there at about noon, and talked to the receptionist. She said really I should wait until Monday and be referred through my GP, but she said she'll put me through to the nurse and take it from there.
So we sat, Megan and I, in the A&E waiting room. We waited a while, saw a bunch of limping Brits, then I was called in. I told the nurse my story, showed her a copy of my USA ultrasound results, and she took a copy herself. She wrote everything down, then said she was going to put me through to the clinic and told me to go take a seat again.
So we waited again. We waited and waited, saw more limping Brits go in and out, and had one really annoying loud sweary chav family come in, shout a lot, sit around impatiently, argue amongst themselves, and then eventually I got called into the clinic.
I talked to an A&E doctor, a Dr Richard Ajuwon. He felt around and read my ultrasound results, and basically agreed with what Dr Berardinucci had said a week prior. He took a urine sample, and got a nurse to try to take a blood sample. Two attempts and four holes on my arm later, she gave up and told the doctor, who then proceeded to take some blood on the first try. He said the urine test came back fine, and told me how things will likely proceed from here.
I will be getting a call some time this week to take another ultrasound. As expected, the UK needs to do their own test, although the USA results probably helped get this all sped up. He predicted it would be done this Wednesday, but that's unknown until it's booked.
He also predicted I would be undergoing surgery come Thursday. Not much time to prepare, but I just want this out of me at this point. I'm sure there will be scans and all kinds of stuff after that, but that's where our conversation ended. Again, not a confirmed date, merely a prediction based on what usually happens to cancer patients.
He also said I should have gone to my GP first, and then something about a two-week waiting period after being referred for all cancer related patients? I must have misunderstood, as that seems insane. Regardless, I am glad I have skipped that by showing up at the A&E today.
So now it's just a waiting game again, and I have to make sure my mobile phone stays switched on. Fun fun.
Oh, and he also suggested I contact a place called CARE, a fertility clinic in Northampton, about getting a specimen frozen before anything is removed. I'll do that in the morning.
I wonder if they ship internationally?
Went to MK hospital today. Got there at about noon, and talked to the receptionist. She said really I should wait until Monday and be referred through my GP, but she said she'll put me through to the nurse and take it from there.
So we sat, Megan and I, in the A&E waiting room. We waited a while, saw a bunch of limping Brits, then I was called in. I told the nurse my story, showed her a copy of my USA ultrasound results, and she took a copy herself. She wrote everything down, then said she was going to put me through to the clinic and told me to go take a seat again.
So we waited again. We waited and waited, saw more limping Brits go in and out, and had one really annoying loud sweary chav family come in, shout a lot, sit around impatiently, argue amongst themselves, and then eventually I got called into the clinic.
I talked to an A&E doctor, a Dr Richard Ajuwon. He felt around and read my ultrasound results, and basically agreed with what Dr Berardinucci had said a week prior. He took a urine sample, and got a nurse to try to take a blood sample. Two attempts and four holes on my arm later, she gave up and told the doctor, who then proceeded to take some blood on the first try. He said the urine test came back fine, and told me how things will likely proceed from here.
I will be getting a call some time this week to take another ultrasound. As expected, the UK needs to do their own test, although the USA results probably helped get this all sped up. He predicted it would be done this Wednesday, but that's unknown until it's booked.
He also predicted I would be undergoing surgery come Thursday. Not much time to prepare, but I just want this out of me at this point. I'm sure there will be scans and all kinds of stuff after that, but that's where our conversation ended. Again, not a confirmed date, merely a prediction based on what usually happens to cancer patients.
He also said I should have gone to my GP first, and then something about a two-week waiting period after being referred for all cancer related patients? I must have misunderstood, as that seems insane. Regardless, I am glad I have skipped that by showing up at the A&E today.
So now it's just a waiting game again, and I have to make sure my mobile phone stays switched on. Fun fun.
Oh, and he also suggested I contact a place called CARE, a fertility clinic in Northampton, about getting a specimen frozen before anything is removed. I'll do that in the morning.
I wonder if they ship internationally?
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Day 10 and Day 11
I am in the UK! Hooray! I guess.
Got to the Houston airport at 9:00am Texas time on Friday. Got through security, got onto a plane, and got to Washington between 2 and 3 pm Washington time. Continental flights kind of suck. It was an old plane, it was cramped and it was dull. But it served its purpose.
Got to our next gate and waited until 6pm to board our flight to London. I went to the desk and explained our escapade with the tickets and the seats and asked if Megan and I could be seated next to each other. The lady said she would "see what they could do".
They started calling large swathes of people to the desk, 10 or so at a time. The monitors flashed different lists of names in three lists: Those with confirmed seats, those with unconfirmed seats, and those on standby. I didn't see our names at all. We waited until everyone started boarding, and as we scanned our boarding passes, our seats were changed. We could sit next to each other after all!
Oh the plane, we were seated right at the front of economy plus. Plus: Even more leg room. Just two seats, nobody sitting next to us. Cons: Have to use that terrible fold-under entertainment monitor and tray table. My monitor wouldn't stay up, and the entertainment was so awful (like.. 5 or 6 movies and 3 TV shows) that I didn't care anyway.
We sat, talked, tried to sleep and failed, watch a guy dance around for like 20 minutes because we don't think he knew where the bathroom was, and then we were in London.
Immigration went fine, Megan is allowed in for 6 months. The lines, even for UK passports, were hideous at Terminal 1, but we got through quick enough. While she was going through immigration, I went to the baggage area to try to reclaim our lost bags.
The lady at that counter said they were over in Terminal 4, but that they had to be shipped to us. I didn't argue, I just filled in the paperwork, and she said they would be delivered to us, hopefully that evening.
So I phoned my mum and asked her to come pick us up, now that we were through customs and done with our baggage queries. We went outside to the passenger drop-off area to await pickup. It was funny hearing so many British accents again, I heard more than normal at the airport, but actually standing outside in London was different. So many "Awwight, mate?"s was different after a few months of "howdy"s.
So, we got picked up and I think we both snoozed a bit on the way back to the house. My original plan was to go back home then immediately out again to the hospital, but it turned out I was just too tired. We ate, snoozed, snoozed some more, woke up at 8pm, unpacked a little, and here we are. While we were snoozing, our bags were delivered, so now we just need to unpack a little more.
My thoughts so far are mixed. I am glad to finally be back, and glad I can finally get some medical attention. I am happy to be home and see my mum again, but at the same time I already miss the USA. It was nice having a whole house.. well, almost a house, rather than just one room. I also feel sorry for Megan, being basically caught up in all this. She quit her job, she left her home, her car, her freedom, all for me. It just doesn't seem worth it.
Still, only time will tell what'll happen. I'll update tomorrow after sitting in A&E for several hours to let people know what's going on.
Got to the Houston airport at 9:00am Texas time on Friday. Got through security, got onto a plane, and got to Washington between 2 and 3 pm Washington time. Continental flights kind of suck. It was an old plane, it was cramped and it was dull. But it served its purpose.
Got to our next gate and waited until 6pm to board our flight to London. I went to the desk and explained our escapade with the tickets and the seats and asked if Megan and I could be seated next to each other. The lady said she would "see what they could do".
They started calling large swathes of people to the desk, 10 or so at a time. The monitors flashed different lists of names in three lists: Those with confirmed seats, those with unconfirmed seats, and those on standby. I didn't see our names at all. We waited until everyone started boarding, and as we scanned our boarding passes, our seats were changed. We could sit next to each other after all!
Oh the plane, we were seated right at the front of economy plus. Plus: Even more leg room. Just two seats, nobody sitting next to us. Cons: Have to use that terrible fold-under entertainment monitor and tray table. My monitor wouldn't stay up, and the entertainment was so awful (like.. 5 or 6 movies and 3 TV shows) that I didn't care anyway.
We sat, talked, tried to sleep and failed, watch a guy dance around for like 20 minutes because we don't think he knew where the bathroom was, and then we were in London.
Immigration went fine, Megan is allowed in for 6 months. The lines, even for UK passports, were hideous at Terminal 1, but we got through quick enough. While she was going through immigration, I went to the baggage area to try to reclaim our lost bags.
The lady at that counter said they were over in Terminal 4, but that they had to be shipped to us. I didn't argue, I just filled in the paperwork, and she said they would be delivered to us, hopefully that evening.
So I phoned my mum and asked her to come pick us up, now that we were through customs and done with our baggage queries. We went outside to the passenger drop-off area to await pickup. It was funny hearing so many British accents again, I heard more than normal at the airport, but actually standing outside in London was different. So many "Awwight, mate?"s was different after a few months of "howdy"s.
So, we got picked up and I think we both snoozed a bit on the way back to the house. My original plan was to go back home then immediately out again to the hospital, but it turned out I was just too tired. We ate, snoozed, snoozed some more, woke up at 8pm, unpacked a little, and here we are. While we were snoozing, our bags were delivered, so now we just need to unpack a little more.
My thoughts so far are mixed. I am glad to finally be back, and glad I can finally get some medical attention. I am happy to be home and see my mum again, but at the same time I already miss the USA. It was nice having a whole house.. well, almost a house, rather than just one room. I also feel sorry for Megan, being basically caught up in all this. She quit her job, she left her home, her car, her freedom, all for me. It just doesn't seem worth it.
Still, only time will tell what'll happen. I'll update tomorrow after sitting in A&E for several hours to let people know what's going on.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Day 8 and Day 9
Two day post extravaganza!
Nothing really happened yesterday (the uh.. 31st Aug). We lazed around, waiting for Friday. I bought a new shirt, and some shorts. I think we probably went out to eat. It seems so long ago.
Today.. or.. damn, yesterday, rather, (it's just after midnight here).. the 1st Sep, we did a lot of the same, although I did have another little adventure, I guess.
We went out for lunch, Megan and I, with Megan's brother Eddie and his common-law wife. We went out for sushi. It was quite nice, and they treated us. I'm going to miss the different types of food they do here, although we have an entire sushi place in Milton Keynes it isn't up to scratch with what they have here.
After we went shopping, where I think I injured myself slightly by uh.. rearranging myself. I guess it was just trying to remind me "hey, I'm still injured, get me sorted out!". Kinda felt like I got kicked in the balls. As if I could forget, it doesn't need to keep reminding me!
But anyway afterwards we came home and lazed around for a while. Then Megan reminded me to book seats on our multiple flights tomorrow. So I grab all the confusing itinerary the lovely black lady printed off for me last night, and sat in front of the computer.
Our first flight, the one from Houston to Dulles, Washington, was no problem. We're flying Continental, booked by Continental. I had two separate emails sitting in my inbox, one for my ticket, one for hers. I thought that was a little weird, but I managed to put our passport details in and book seats next to each other (with me in an aisle seat, hah). No problem.
Then came the longer flight, from Washington to London. Flying United Airlines, booked by Continental. No problem, I thought, they are two companies merging together, surely they must function the same, right?
Wrong. I managed to book a seat for myself, although I had to pay $89 extra for an "Economy Plus" seat, as all the Economy seats were taken, and there was no way I was taking a risk and getting to the airport just to be told the plane was overbooked. Popped in my passport details, all done.
Tried to log in as Megan.. her info came up, but I couldn't check in. It kept flashing up an error stating that without return flight information, the UK would not allow her to check in. Of course, we have return flight information, but it's booked through Continental, not United Airlines.
After trying several times, I give up. I explain to Megan we'll just have to deal with it at the airport, but she decides to call United Airlines (UA) instead. She's told she has to speak to Continental. I try to explain it myself, but I'm also told we need to speak to Continental. We phoned Continental. We are told we need to speak to UA, and are put through to UA. The UA rep is more helpful this time, but tells us we are basically out of luck and need to talk to a Continental spokesperson at the airport.
Alright, we decide, the airport is open 24/7 and we are going that way to re-print our boarding information (including return flight, in case Megan is questioned at the UK border). We head down there, and queue up at the Airline Express Continental kiosk, as the regular kiosk is unmanned.
A handsome suited black guy behind us asked if we were queued up. I guess two people in trashy t-shirts and shorts don't really seem the type to be queued at the Express lane. A rep asks us if we need to check in, so I tell him I need some advise. I explain the situation briefly, and he hands us over to a short but wide Latino woman for help.
I explain the situation, almost tripping up a few times (it's a very complicated story!) and she tries her hardest to book us seats next to each other. In the end, she failed too, but she did manage to give Megan a seat in the same area as mine. She told me to talk to the flight attendants once I get to Dulles, or if all else fails try to exchange seats on the plane. Shouldn't be a problem, people always swap seats once they get settled and all passengers are on. She did upgrade Megan to Economy Plus though, and didn't mention the $89 fee. So that's good. We got a free re-booking, and a free upgrade for one of us. Not bad.
So all our tickets are now printed, and she assured us that our bags are still chilling out in the UK, and that we just need to show our claim receipt once we get there. So who knows, maybe I will get home after all.
Then, on Saturday, since my GP will be closed, I am going to head straight to the A&E department at MK hospital and wait. And wait. And wait. And then maybe I'll get seen. I just hope all this delaying hasn't damaged anything.
I tried, that's enough, right?
Nothing really happened yesterday (the uh.. 31st Aug). We lazed around, waiting for Friday. I bought a new shirt, and some shorts. I think we probably went out to eat. It seems so long ago.
Today.. or.. damn, yesterday, rather, (it's just after midnight here).. the 1st Sep, we did a lot of the same, although I did have another little adventure, I guess.
We went out for lunch, Megan and I, with Megan's brother Eddie and his common-law wife. We went out for sushi. It was quite nice, and they treated us. I'm going to miss the different types of food they do here, although we have an entire sushi place in Milton Keynes it isn't up to scratch with what they have here.
After we went shopping, where I think I injured myself slightly by uh.. rearranging myself. I guess it was just trying to remind me "hey, I'm still injured, get me sorted out!". Kinda felt like I got kicked in the balls. As if I could forget, it doesn't need to keep reminding me!
But anyway afterwards we came home and lazed around for a while. Then Megan reminded me to book seats on our multiple flights tomorrow. So I grab all the confusing itinerary the lovely black lady printed off for me last night, and sat in front of the computer.
Our first flight, the one from Houston to Dulles, Washington, was no problem. We're flying Continental, booked by Continental. I had two separate emails sitting in my inbox, one for my ticket, one for hers. I thought that was a little weird, but I managed to put our passport details in and book seats next to each other (with me in an aisle seat, hah). No problem.
Then came the longer flight, from Washington to London. Flying United Airlines, booked by Continental. No problem, I thought, they are two companies merging together, surely they must function the same, right?
Wrong. I managed to book a seat for myself, although I had to pay $89 extra for an "Economy Plus" seat, as all the Economy seats were taken, and there was no way I was taking a risk and getting to the airport just to be told the plane was overbooked. Popped in my passport details, all done.
Tried to log in as Megan.. her info came up, but I couldn't check in. It kept flashing up an error stating that without return flight information, the UK would not allow her to check in. Of course, we have return flight information, but it's booked through Continental, not United Airlines.
After trying several times, I give up. I explain to Megan we'll just have to deal with it at the airport, but she decides to call United Airlines (UA) instead. She's told she has to speak to Continental. I try to explain it myself, but I'm also told we need to speak to Continental. We phoned Continental. We are told we need to speak to UA, and are put through to UA. The UA rep is more helpful this time, but tells us we are basically out of luck and need to talk to a Continental spokesperson at the airport.
Alright, we decide, the airport is open 24/7 and we are going that way to re-print our boarding information (including return flight, in case Megan is questioned at the UK border). We head down there, and queue up at the Airline Express Continental kiosk, as the regular kiosk is unmanned.
A handsome suited black guy behind us asked if we were queued up. I guess two people in trashy t-shirts and shorts don't really seem the type to be queued at the Express lane. A rep asks us if we need to check in, so I tell him I need some advise. I explain the situation briefly, and he hands us over to a short but wide Latino woman for help.
I explain the situation, almost tripping up a few times (it's a very complicated story!) and she tries her hardest to book us seats next to each other. In the end, she failed too, but she did manage to give Megan a seat in the same area as mine. She told me to talk to the flight attendants once I get to Dulles, or if all else fails try to exchange seats on the plane. Shouldn't be a problem, people always swap seats once they get settled and all passengers are on. She did upgrade Megan to Economy Plus though, and didn't mention the $89 fee. So that's good. We got a free re-booking, and a free upgrade for one of us. Not bad.
So all our tickets are now printed, and she assured us that our bags are still chilling out in the UK, and that we just need to show our claim receipt once we get there. So who knows, maybe I will get home after all.
Then, on Saturday, since my GP will be closed, I am going to head straight to the A&E department at MK hospital and wait. And wait. And wait. And then maybe I'll get seen. I just hope all this delaying hasn't damaged anything.
I tried, that's enough, right?
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