So my main disappointment after my sentinel node biopsy surgery, is that I didn’t look one bit like Smurfette. Yet Ernie was completely blue.
My stay at a local hospital has not been my most enjoyable. It appears that the blue dye didn’t want to do as it was told, making the removal of the correct nodes more difficult, but still obtainable.
Sad but not blue
The rest of the stay was a blast. Not.
First there was the visit by the chaplaincy member. An elderly gentleman who thought it perfectly fine to walk into my closed door, drawn curtain, private room whilst I was wearing just pants. My gown had somehow fallen by the wayside. I was so completely shocked that I didn’t hear him properly, so politely asked him to repeat himself, whereupon he proceeded to explain what chaplaincy was, as clearly not only was I half naked, I was also stupid.
Definitely not happy now
He then asked if I was religious. On any other given day, I would have quite happily chatted about religion and spiritualty. However, today was not one of those days. I was in pain and, as I mentioned earlier, only wearing pants. So I really was not in the mood for this so said no, hoping he would simply leave. Instead he laughed and asked if I was from another planet. At that point I wished I was from Krypton. In my mind, and I apologise now for any offence, I bore into him with my heat-searing eyes. Yet, in reality, I told him that many people had asked that very same question, and smiled sweetly. Morphine really helps with that last part…
He suggested I may want to attend the hospital church. I suggested if I was to attend church it would be one nearer my home, and, well, a church. He didn’t like that. His parting comment about him praying that God decides to let me recover ended this uncomfortable exchange. I am still flabbergasted that he was allowed to wander in, and that he didn’t once query where my gown was…
I think I’m being punished....
However, I did begin to suspect me may have had words with “upstairs” when I started to feel a bit sick. I had been discharged only minutes earlier and was awaiting my chariot. The nausea quickly turned into feeling very sick so I asked for something to help and was given an anti sickness injection which apparently lasts 8 hours.
Things start to go wrong..
In reality, it did not. It lasted less than 1 hour. I was given several small grey sick bowls which I looked at with disgust, albeit quickly turning to adoration, as my feeling sick quickly turned into being sick. Horrible, lime green sick. Violent, non stop. For several hours. I was also in limbo, having been discharged and technically not supposed to be there any more. The choice between going to A&E or home was not a difficult one. I wanted my bed, my cats, my quiet.
Sickness followed me home and stayed until nothing left. Throwing up on the North Orbital one of the highlights. Sleeping on top of my bed surrounded by grey sick bowls is not an experience I wish to repeat. I am done. Still feeling nauseous, tired, hot (not in a good way) and to add insult to injury, constipated. I haven’t thought once about the op and the scar, There are now some extra “blisters” that are apparently fine and am bruising well. Wonderful.
So now my drugs have multiplied. As well as pain and anti inflammatory drugs, I have anti sickness drugs, anti acid drugs and anti constipation drugs. I really am full of shit!
My punishment for not simply admitting that I was a Jedi? Or possibly just eating hospital sausage and mash (don’t do it….). I don’t know. It could have been too much morphine or a reaction to the dye. I’m annoyed with myself – I should have stood up for myself more, I don’t like having anyone’s religion forced down my throat. I know what I believe and what I don’t. And I think everyone should be allowed to feel the same.
Right now, however, I believe in myself, my family and my friends – my angels, my warriors.
And cats.
