Here we go again

I saw my surgeon yesterday.  He was actually the same one as last time, who told me I was not really his patient and he didn't know a lot about me and wouldn't need to see me again unless the tests he would arrange for me at intervals showed something needing intervention.  Since that visit I had a long chat with Jane the liaison nurse, expressing my dissatisfaction with never having had a consultant who accepted any responsibility for me or showed any interest in me.  She took it on board and within days let me know that I now belonged to the surgeon who had seen me.

This time was so different.  I knew before we went that the tests were not clear, because if they had been I am sure Jane would have phoned, and they would not have wasted a 9 0'clock appointment just to tell me all was well.  Having been called in from the waiting room we sat in his ante-room for about 5 minutes while he 'was reading my notes'.  I actually shed tears of nervous anticipation, and commented to Dave that they are  masters of suspense.  This time we had the chairs and he sat on the couch.  It was the first time I have been spoken to as a fully dressed adult on a chair, not a bed, and it did make a difference.  He told us there was recurrence at the original site of the cancer, and an area of dysplasia where I had seen the endoscopist hesitating and placing a 'marker' 4 weeks previously.  He went through the possibilities for radiotherapy and chemotherapy, which filled me with dread, but then came on to his own preference for surgery.  His enthusiasm for this matched my own instinctive desire to get rid of the offending cells, so we agreed quite easily that he would operate, aiming to remove both the affected areas and join up the cut ends.  If blood supply or unexpected extension of the tumour made this difficult he would remove the whole colon and create a colostomy, (a 'bag').

When we talked about time-scale it turned out that he had no availability much before our August holiday.  He did not feel the cancer was progressing rapidly, rather that it had been sitting there for some time, and was more than happy to plan the op for the week after we do the Four Counties Ring with Steve and Kate.  I shall have my pre-ops before we go away, and also colostomy training just in case, then a lovely carefree week away before arriving at hospital starved and raring to go on August 23rd.

This is all so different from my experience of emergency surgery last April, when everything was a question mark, the surgery was difficult because of the internal log-jam and I had no preparation other than a pre-med.  We both came out  of the consulting room feeling confident and positive, having been given enough facts to feel we understood what was happening and having had some input into the planning and intervention.

The really good thing is that there was no evidence of 'distant spread.'  This diagnosis hung over us from December to February with its grim prognosis, and we were both grateful for healing from that, whatever it actually was.  When the surgeon said yesterday that he hoped not to have to do a colostomy in August, because if he had to go back in in five years time that would make things easier, Dave picked up on the inference that he thought I could well be still worthy of surgery in five years time.  Whereas the oncologist had told us in no uncertain terms that 3 lots of chemo was the limit (who would want three lots?!), the surgeon seemed unphased by the prospect of a bit of future weeding.

The previous surgery has left me with quite disabling bowel urgency after eating, and frequent calls of nature during the night, waking me from sleep.  It is very much part of the plan that further surgery will aim to relieve this, and in fact that will make a huge difference to my life, the way I spend my days and the way I plan social activity.  Altogether, more positives than negatives.

What's God up to?  I don't know, but the day before my appointment I woke early and picked up 'Celtic Daily Prayer', the book we bought after the Church Weekend last July.  I read the set readings for that day, Psalm 118:1-3, Isaiah 58:6-12 and from Luke the parable of the Good Samaritan.  I was gob-smacked, and really felt even before we went to the appointment that God was in control, more than able to look after me, and that my priority was to 'look after the weak, break bonds, care for my neighbour.....'.  I can live with that.

We celebrated little Joe's 5th birthday last Tuesday, and on Saturday he invited 8 little friends to his party at Planet Zoom.  If you can stand two hours of ear-splitting noise it is an easy way to throw a child's party.  It was an interesting experience for us as well, as most of the Mum's stayed and joined us for a cup of tea and to observe the tea in an upstairs room.  I had visualised a traditional tea-party with sandwiches, sausage rolls, jelly and then cake, but in fact on arrival each child was given the choice of three hot  meals: chicken nuggets, sausage, both with chips, or pasta with some sort of tomato sauce.Mary-Ann had to provide the cake, which was brought in with the candles lit for Joe to blow out.  Then they all had ice-cream, a photo on the balcony, and a party-bag which included a piece of cake.  Joe was very happy with it all, and we got to know some of the children whose names have cropped up regularly, and to take to their Mum's.

Joe and Sally arrived in time for the party, but there were more than enough of us to supervise the play part, so they walked George and returned in time for Sally to entertain the children while they ate their tea, just by talking to them.  She is so gifted at communicating with little children.  Our two adore her, and I suspect several of the children at the party would have like to take her home with them.

Sunday was Father's Day, and we stayed home from church to be with Joe and Sal and to cook lunch, which was wonderful.  Mary-Ann made the morning tea for Butler Dave, whose job it is normally.

I have an appointment to see my surgeon (I belong to one at last!) on the 29th.  I have not had any results, and don't want to attempt to get a preview from my GP because the important thing is going to be what needs to be done, rather than what has been found.  So I am just enjoying being able to get out in the garden, and taking Joe to school, and James to town on Grandma Days.

We have re-organised the messy back porch, put oiled wood worktop round the butler sink and facing the outside door, and shelved to the ceiling on that wall to give lots more storage.  Bob and Sheila had done something similar with their boiler room and it was so impressive that it motivated us to get on with ours.  Now we need to get some shelving up in the kitchen to relieve the worktops of all the drink-making stuff - tea, coffee, camomile, chocolate, Splenda, sugar, Lady Grey, Chai, ground coffee (at least three sorts!)  At present we have a lot of duplicates, having unpacked more of the Knee's boxes, so our workspace is extremely cluttered.

It's raining!  We have had a few showers in the last week, but nothing to soak into the ground which is bone dry as far as you can dig.  The little geraniums and other plants transferred from cossetting in the greenhouse are looking very sad and some have died.  I finally started hosing them, but unless you are prepared to stand in one spot for about five minutes and then move on to the next spot it does very little good.  I had a good afternoon planting out today, and this rain is perfectly timed.

I couldn't have gardened yesterday.  I have been very poorly following a colonic endoscopy last Tuesday (camera job).  16 polyps were rmoved and there was one that was too big.  When the surgeon read the report he got the liaison nurse to ring me to say he wanted another CT scan without waiting for the biopsy reports, so that doesn't sound good.  It is booked for next Tuesday, our little Joe's birthday, but I should be home in time for his birthday tea.  His actual party is at Planet Zoom on the following Saturday.  Anway, as I was saying, the procedure last Tuesday week left me making numerous visits to the loo without much result.  Yesterday I really thought I was obstructing again.  I rang the nurse who oversees the follow-up, but unfortunately couldn't speak to the one who knows me.  I was told rather condescendingly that if I wasn't vomiting and was passing anything at all I couldn't be obstructed.  I said I understood that, but was anxious to avoid a recurrence.  She said if I was that worried I should see my GP.  Ah well!  She was right anyway, because at 5.0 0'clock this morning everything returned to normal, (normal for me, that is.)

So I am back to making the most of each day, trying to pack in as much as I can because I know if they want to start chemo again, or even surgery, I shan't be doing much at all for a while.  I just hope I can squeeze in my holidays.  I wonder if I could insist.  I don't think I can go back to being 100%  compliant and passive again.  Or perhaps I can, they are very persuasive.