I'm not chunky!

Hooray, it's finally happened and #Tedthetumour plus my right kidney has been removed. It's felt like an age to get to this point. I'm still in hospital, home tomorrow or Saturday, but am doing really well.

So interested in the details? Then read on

Wednesday I presented myself to the Freedom Unit, part of Derriford Hospital at 11.30am. I'd followed the fasting rules to the letter (last meal at 7am, last clear fluids at 9am. I'd even set alarms to make sure I didn't miss the deadlines and therefore food!) and sat in the waiting room, feeling relaxed and prepared. (that last bit maybe a lie)

My first consultation was with the anaesthetist which went smoothly. I even found out why they always ask about loose teeth (apparently there is a chance teeth are knocked and broken, but was assured they have insurance to pay for dental treatment....gulp) Followed swiftly by the nurse who asked the same questions all over again, including could you be pregnant. Hello? You know question 4 where you asked about previous surgeries? Hysterectomy?? ( she did apologise and said it has to be asked )

Back to the waiting room for about 20 minutes, everything's going smoothly, before seeing my consultant. I would love to able to say I like the guy....but I can't. He has the bedside manner of a dead duck. I had warned MrC, but I'm sure he thought I was exaggerating. I wasn't. But I don't have to like the guy, just so long he's good at his job. And he must be with a manner like that. Apparently I'm chunky, his words. He said them the first time I met him when he told me the tumour had a 90% chance of being cancer. Maybe I'm being unfair to the guy, maybe I don't like him more for the cancer news than the word chunky.....? Either way you don't call a lady chunky and certainly not one you are telling probably has cancer to boot!

But anyway, he explained the risks, complications etc, but nothing mentioned about the gallbladder, the reason why I had an ultrasound scan which found #tedthetumour in the first place. So I asked 'and you are taking the gallbladder too?' Fraid not was his not so cheery reply. Great! So another surgery sometime soon to go through. He then proceeded to tell me he couldn't actually see any problems with my gallbladder on the CT scan, so I shouldn't be having any pain. WHAT! NO PAIN!? I'll give you no pain!! Bless the young doctor with him, who said the gallstones don't show up well on CT's, but from the ultrasound it was clear I did. I was ready to lamp the consultant otherwise!

So, sent back to the waiting room to contemplate the bombshell of still having a gallbladder. I tried to put a positive spin on it by saying if that's the only thing to go wrong we'll be lucky. 40 minutes later I'm eating my words. Apparently the bed manager is struggling to find a bed for me! WTF!!! The next half an hour was the longest ever. All the time I've spent worrying and stressing, to get this far and have no bed? I was mentally writing a scathing blog post, MrC was writing a press release when we got the news "we found one!"

All hands to the pump from there and I was in being put to sleep ( not in the sick animal way ) in 15 minutes flat. But the best was yet to come. The bed they had found, was actually on a private ward! So I've my own room, own toilet ( although not used it yet what with a umm, catheter in ummmm, place ) nurses who have time to nurse, no one else to see my bare my bum when trying to get comfy in bed and beautifully prepared food.

I am so lucky!

Am doing well, #tedthetumour has been sent off for analysis and I will know the results in four weeks. My consultant has said in his opinion it was cancerous, but what does he know....I'm also not chunky!