I arrived at the X-ray department which is where I was told to go on my letter. I arrived in plenty of time, which I’m glad I did as the que was out of the door.
X-ray department gave me a blue envelope containing a form and said to give it in to ultrasound which was in another department. I wonder how many miles I have walked going from appointment to appointment at this hospital? I know each corridor like the back of my hand.
Normally during my appointments I don’t like to ask questions for fear of wasting their time or being one of those patients. Now I’m sick of it. Sick of never been told why I’m there. So I opened the envelope and read the letter.
Around 20 words scrawled across the form gave me more information that I had had in months. Scan in 4 weeks after seeing consultant to check for recurrence on the left side. Why could they not tell me this? Why am I always the last to know about my own body? I was right.
I took a seat in the darkest waiting room for what seemed like forever. I love people watching normally, but today every single person in that room pissed me off. There was plenty of seats left as only 4 of us in there but this lady decided to sit right next to me. She might as well have sat on my lap. Anyone who knows me knows I’m pretty fond of keeping personal space personal 😂 I hate having to share my space with someone else. But there she was. Right fucking there. She pulled out a bag of cheese an onion crisps and started to eat. Possibly the loudest I’ve ever heard anyone eat. As if that wasn’t pissing me off enough she then proceeded to lick and suck her fingers. One of the downsides to my hypothyroidism is how quickly I get irritated. I have zero patience in life in general, which I am working on 😂 but couple that with the level of anxiety I was facing today did not make a good combination. I got up and moved seats to the other row of free chairs. I’m pretty sure I tutted too, in my very British manner 😂
Anyway so my name was called. There was 3 men in the room who were all so lovely, asking me questions about my cancer, how it was found and why I was there. I returned that question back to them explaining I had no idea! They didn’t seem to know much either, only the words I had read on the form. The consultant hadnt even wrote a note in my notes.
Most health professional I’ve met on this journey have been nice and helpful, but together it’s a joke. There is zero communication in what is meant to be a network of teams. During my first year at Uni, it was drummed into us the importance of Collaborative Practice amongst health professionals. I think they need to let the actual health professionals know as it seems they missed that part of their training.
Two of the sonographers took it in turns to scan me as I got the impression one had spotted something and wanted confirmation.
I was right.
A 6mm nodule on the left side. So tiny to hide and make two of them check but big enough to change my life.
6mm of evil.
6mm of dread, fear and overwhelming anxiety.
It’s back. That’s all I keep thinking.
I asked what now? What happens next? And they didn’t know. It’s down to my consultant to decide. In other words wait until they send a letter to my GP which I will get a copy of, which will explain everything. Again.
Now I wait. Wait for a letter? A phone call? I haven’t got a clue what I’m waiting for but I’m waiting. With every single thing crossed hoping, praying I don’t have to go through 2013 again.
But until then I’ve got children to feed, a life to lead as a mum of a large busy family. I need to find my ‘I’m ok’ smile and plaster it on which will be a lot harder this time because quite frankly I’m shitting my pants as I know what’s coming.