In 2013 I’d had it in my head that I would have been treated by the end of March. I suppose it’s a human trait to want to get these things over and done with.
I was now on Hormone Therapy, a horrible experience. But t did make me realise what females must go through with the menopause. Get the HRT ladies, the symptoms I had were terrible.
But the bungled CT scan appointment had derailed that. It was a two month wait for the next one. And I don’t even now know why I had to have it. As I understood, I needed to have a detailed scan to give the therapists targets to aim at with the Brachytherapy. But of course that wasn’t going to happen. It was the knife.
And it looked like that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Scan in March. Go see surgeon in late April. That seemed likely.
I was getting a bit fed up. I have a daughter in New Zealand whom I had been wanting to visit ever since I was diagnosed. I didn’t want her to worry. But with all the appointments and changes I wasn’t able to book any dates. So I decided that whatever happened I would go see her over the summer. So I was ruling myself out of surgery until September.
I have no regrets about that at all. I had the best time with my two daughters (I took my younger one with me for 5 weeks, stopping off in Singapore) and my elder was happy to see me looking well. The surgeon was happy too. He told me that I could delay surgery for a couple of years if necessary!
I went into hospital on September 29th at 08:00. The hospital being in Edinburgh, and me being in Dalbeattie, and the NHS being happy to take me home but not take me to the hospital, I travelled the day before and stayed at a B&B that night. A pretty sleepless time it was too.
No mucking about. I was prepared and went straight into theatre.
I was first that day. So at least I was pretty sure the knives would be sharp.
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