- Feedback
- View
ok so a bunch of you knew either by reading it on here or my facebook that i was having cancer treatment, i thought i'd tell you a little about it because i think it's good to know what happens, maybe knowing a bit in the future will help in some way
anyway, about 4 months ago, i peed blood late one night at the shop, quite scary to be honest but i wasn't in pain or fainting etc so i called 111 for advice, they told me to go home obvs, drink water, they called a couple times more to make sure i was ok through the night but said go to "urgent care" in the morning, so i went to the local health centre and they arranged a catscan for a couple of days later, had the scan and they found a lump on the right side kidney.
a week later i had another scan, with a cannula which pushed fluid in to your blood vessels to make them sho up on the scan, it revealed the tumour was about 85mm.
at this point i couldn't feel it, every now and then a little back ache on my right side but that was it.
cutting to the consultant appointment a while later, and he said we're gonna cut it out, the whole lot, kidney and tumour, i'm quite matter of fact so i appreciated the frankly bluntness.
so cut to last tuesday morning, 715am, i'm dropped at southampton general hospital by my sister, she walked up to the ward with me and wasn't allowed any further, i freely admit i was crapping myself about the operation, i walked through with another guy being operated on and put in to a small room with a chair and curtain around each one, we were told to strip and get in to hospital gowns, it was becoming real by the minute.
a little while later i was walked to the operating room, it wasn't quite what i expected, more people than i expected, music playing, people talking about traffic, 930am the lights went out.
cut to 430pm and i was awake, frankly sat in the recovery area i felt ok but unable to comfortably move, i thought, well this is not too bad, i'm hard as hell i can take this.
630pm i'd eaten a salad and had a drink, i was moved to another recovery area, it's like stages of after the surgery, i was kept in the waiting area after the surgery longer because there less bed spaces where i was going. then a few things went tits up! my blood pressure dropped a lot, i don't know the numbers but it was low, people came running, i was a bit dilirious, but then i started feeling better, obvs i had no clue what they did but i came around and by about 10pm i was being wheeled to ward e8 where i'd remain.
there were 6 people in there, there was a bit of noise but i tried to sleep, a phone kept going off, it was the guy opposite me, it sounded like he was having ago at his mum, and i have to be honest i remember thinking you arse.
a few hours later blood pressure and oxygen levels dropped again, again people came running, i was suppose to be getting out that day, wednesday.
when i woke up i felt a bit crap, the drugs from the operation had worn off, yesterday was a drug high.
i was told i needed to get up and try and walk, i couldn't, there was no chance, i tried, the nurses helped, the most i managed was to sit up with their help. lateri saw a couple of people go, i hadn't spoken to them or them to me, but we waved to eachother as if to say good luck.
later, the phone of the guy opposite kept going off, frankly it was annoying then having heard the conversation bit more i understood what was going on with this guy, i didn't comprehend it ealier, Mark was trying to help hius disabled mum look after his father who had dementia, we started talking, he's had a bad few years, really nice guy, Londoner but lives in Winchester, his mum had carer help but usually Mark was there to do it all for both of them, there were parallels with the situation with my mum and the battle we had with her dementia. we talked although it was hard as i was back on oxygen and my levels still kept dropping. he was in for a hip replacement after falling over at home while looking after them, this guy has had it shit.
thursday i think the doctor was a little annoyed that i wasn't up and about, turns out the issue with me was i had got fluid on my lungs from not getting up, so i needed to get up, but i couldn't, frankly they kind of forced me, it was odd, it's like having no abb muscles but also i couldn't reach over to pull myslef up with my arms. but 2 nurses sort of pushed me up, once sat up i went light headed, then to confirm the fluid i had a catscan, they were also looking for blood clots in my lungs, but that was just precationary checking.
after the catscan i had the catherta removed, that's pretty weird feeling, not painful, uncomfortable would be the right word, and sort of a shock even though you know it's about to happen. i had to drink loads of water as they wanted me to pee, it was hard, i tried to pee in the bed pan thing but the postion is odd to pee in so i got help with standing up to pee, after a while i did, it's hard though as one nurse was holding me up and the other was holding the pee bottle so it's embarrassing, but by that time you don't care anymore, no one is judging, no ones cares what your willy looks like, they are there to help and they do without question or eye rolling. after this i managed to get out of bed with the help of a big nurse called Lian, he was from the Phillipines, he took me for a shower, i mostly did it myslef except getting dry and dressed.
i started walking the corridor, out of bed, to the left, walk 20 metres hand on the wall to steady me, i'd pace one end to the other between each set of ward doors, it became a track to me, slowly wandering up and down a hall, people say well done, and you take it, it's a compliment, they see how hard this is everyday and they know it's a win, but despite that you feel pitiful, pathetic.
by this time i'd been chatting more with Mark, others had come and gone, we had started encouraging each other, his dad though had turned violent towards his mum and carers. mark had been paralysed a few years ago, learnt to walk again after back surgery, then ended up caring for his parents, the phone was ringing so much because he was desperately trying to get his dad in to a carehome before something awful happened, it was quite horrible to sit and listen to his desperation at times, i told him about my mum and what we went through, i think it helped him, by friday, he had found a place that would take him initially for a month, he was releived for his mum but was obviously feeling guilty.
cut to today, i was told if i poo i could go home, i couldn't, frankly i didn't want to, i didn't eat to much as frankly i like to be clean, morning jobs is usually followed by a shower, i didn't want to poo if i couldn't get a shower but also i didn't think i could reach to clean myself, they put me on laxatives, didn't make any dofference because frankly there wasn't enough in my stomach to do anything so it just gurgled. eventually they just said i could go, not gonna lie, i was never so pleased to go home!
i hope to see mark again, he knows where i am, i said i'd make sure the kettle was on, turns out he knows Matt who owns Torq energy stuff. we said out good byes, that guy is tough.
so i got home around 5pm today, saturday, destroyed the bog almost immediatly, a spray if you will! got straight in the shower, managaed to get cleaned on my own which i consider a massive win.
then crashed out for about 3 hours, the walk to the car from the ward seemed like a marathon, and the drive home felt like the roughest road ever.
the hospital, they were amazing, what they do is amazing, no one there is paid enough, they all deserve so much more, i'm sure i can't remember the names of all of them but some that i can are, Lian, Sharra, Marta, Venus, Caroline, they were 5 of maybe 15 on the ward over a few shifts.
so here i am at home watching tv because of these people, there's a still a way to go but for now i'm slowly getting there.
they liked my T shirt.
anyway, about 4 months ago, i peed blood late one night at the shop, quite scary to be honest but i wasn't in pain or fainting etc so i called 111 for advice, they told me to go home obvs, drink water, they called a couple times more to make sure i was ok through the night but said go to "urgent care" in the morning, so i went to the local health centre and they arranged a catscan for a couple of days later, had the scan and they found a lump on the right side kidney.
a week later i had another scan, with a cannula which pushed fluid in to your blood vessels to make them sho up on the scan, it revealed the tumour was about 85mm.
at this point i couldn't feel it, every now and then a little back ache on my right side but that was it.
cutting to the consultant appointment a while later, and he said we're gonna cut it out, the whole lot, kidney and tumour, i'm quite matter of fact so i appreciated the frankly bluntness.
so cut to last tuesday morning, 715am, i'm dropped at southampton general hospital by my sister, she walked up to the ward with me and wasn't allowed any further, i freely admit i was crapping myself about the operation, i walked through with another guy being operated on and put in to a small room with a chair and curtain around each one, we were told to strip and get in to hospital gowns, it was becoming real by the minute.
a little while later i was walked to the operating room, it wasn't quite what i expected, more people than i expected, music playing, people talking about traffic, 930am the lights went out.
cut to 430pm and i was awake, frankly sat in the recovery area i felt ok but unable to comfortably move, i thought, well this is not too bad, i'm hard as hell i can take this.
630pm i'd eaten a salad and had a drink, i was moved to another recovery area, it's like stages of after the surgery, i was kept in the waiting area after the surgery longer because there less bed spaces where i was going. then a few things went tits up! my blood pressure dropped a lot, i don't know the numbers but it was low, people came running, i was a bit dilirious, but then i started feeling better, obvs i had no clue what they did but i came around and by about 10pm i was being wheeled to ward e8 where i'd remain.
there were 6 people in there, there was a bit of noise but i tried to sleep, a phone kept going off, it was the guy opposite me, it sounded like he was having ago at his mum, and i have to be honest i remember thinking you arse.
a few hours later blood pressure and oxygen levels dropped again, again people came running, i was suppose to be getting out that day, wednesday.
when i woke up i felt a bit crap, the drugs from the operation had worn off, yesterday was a drug high.
i was told i needed to get up and try and walk, i couldn't, there was no chance, i tried, the nurses helped, the most i managed was to sit up with their help. lateri saw a couple of people go, i hadn't spoken to them or them to me, but we waved to eachother as if to say good luck.
later, the phone of the guy opposite kept going off, frankly it was annoying then having heard the conversation bit more i understood what was going on with this guy, i didn't comprehend it ealier, Mark was trying to help hius disabled mum look after his father who had dementia, we started talking, he's had a bad few years, really nice guy, Londoner but lives in Winchester, his mum had carer help but usually Mark was there to do it all for both of them, there were parallels with the situation with my mum and the battle we had with her dementia. we talked although it was hard as i was back on oxygen and my levels still kept dropping. he was in for a hip replacement after falling over at home while looking after them, this guy has had it shit.
thursday i think the doctor was a little annoyed that i wasn't up and about, turns out the issue with me was i had got fluid on my lungs from not getting up, so i needed to get up, but i couldn't, frankly they kind of forced me, it was odd, it's like having no abb muscles but also i couldn't reach over to pull myslef up with my arms. but 2 nurses sort of pushed me up, once sat up i went light headed, then to confirm the fluid i had a catscan, they were also looking for blood clots in my lungs, but that was just precationary checking.
after the catscan i had the catherta removed, that's pretty weird feeling, not painful, uncomfortable would be the right word, and sort of a shock even though you know it's about to happen. i had to drink loads of water as they wanted me to pee, it was hard, i tried to pee in the bed pan thing but the postion is odd to pee in so i got help with standing up to pee, after a while i did, it's hard though as one nurse was holding me up and the other was holding the pee bottle so it's embarrassing, but by that time you don't care anymore, no one is judging, no ones cares what your willy looks like, they are there to help and they do without question or eye rolling. after this i managed to get out of bed with the help of a big nurse called Lian, he was from the Phillipines, he took me for a shower, i mostly did it myslef except getting dry and dressed.
i started walking the corridor, out of bed, to the left, walk 20 metres hand on the wall to steady me, i'd pace one end to the other between each set of ward doors, it became a track to me, slowly wandering up and down a hall, people say well done, and you take it, it's a compliment, they see how hard this is everyday and they know it's a win, but despite that you feel pitiful, pathetic.
by this time i'd been chatting more with Mark, others had come and gone, we had started encouraging each other, his dad though had turned violent towards his mum and carers. mark had been paralysed a few years ago, learnt to walk again after back surgery, then ended up caring for his parents, the phone was ringing so much because he was desperately trying to get his dad in to a carehome before something awful happened, it was quite horrible to sit and listen to his desperation at times, i told him about my mum and what we went through, i think it helped him, by friday, he had found a place that would take him initially for a month, he was releived for his mum but was obviously feeling guilty.
cut to today, i was told if i poo i could go home, i couldn't, frankly i didn't want to, i didn't eat to much as frankly i like to be clean, morning jobs is usually followed by a shower, i didn't want to poo if i couldn't get a shower but also i didn't think i could reach to clean myself, they put me on laxatives, didn't make any dofference because frankly there wasn't enough in my stomach to do anything so it just gurgled. eventually they just said i could go, not gonna lie, i was never so pleased to go home!
i hope to see mark again, he knows where i am, i said i'd make sure the kettle was on, turns out he knows Matt who owns Torq energy stuff. we said out good byes, that guy is tough.
so i got home around 5pm today, saturday, destroyed the bog almost immediatly, a spray if you will! got straight in the shower, managaed to get cleaned on my own which i consider a massive win.
then crashed out for about 3 hours, the walk to the car from the ward seemed like a marathon, and the drive home felt like the roughest road ever.
the hospital, they were amazing, what they do is amazing, no one there is paid enough, they all deserve so much more, i'm sure i can't remember the names of all of them but some that i can are, Lian, Sharra, Marta, Venus, Caroline, they were 5 of maybe 15 on the ward over a few shifts.
so here i am at home watching tv because of these people, there's a still a way to go but for now i'm slowly getting there.
they liked my T shirt.
