Operation No. 2...

20th February, 2008
The morning of my operation finally arrives. I spent the night before in hospital so worried about sleeping but amazingly I slept quite well. Just wish I could have breakfast but know I can't. My husband arrives at 0815 to wait with me. Plenty of people coming in and out, getting me ready for my place on the treadmill of theatre, operation, recovery room, back to the ward then the wait for discharge. I feel a bit like a number, not a person then the surgeon appears...

"Morning Beautiful" Wow. This lady is one in a million.

She goes through the consent and the operation that determines the spread of the cancer. She also mentions other risks like infection, bleeding, lymphoedema. Lymphoedema - I'll file that word away for further research at a later date. My risk is 5% but I'd rather get that dreaded incurable swelling of my arm than risk the cancer spreading. So I sign on the dotted line.

Off to theatre I go, being wheeled on a trolley like a patient. I've even got on TED stockings - those sexy tight white knee high stockings to help minimise the DVT risk - knowing my luck lately I'd get one of those too!! Now into the operation I go - I'm so brave I'm so brave I say as I go off to sleep and I entrust my body and life into the hands of the doctors. This is so hard.

I'm awake, it's over with. Still sleepy so I drift back off. Not in any pain so quite content at the minute.

Awake again, back with my husband and he looks relieved to see me. Try to sit up......

Can't sit up, I can't put weight on my left arm. No-one warned me about this. Also just nudged my wound drain sticking out of my side and realise there's blood and stuff seeping everywhere. This is crap.

The lovely nurse helps me sit up, changes my sheets and I get a drink. So at least things are getting better. Just concerned about my arm as I never realised how much my arm would be affected by the axillary clearance.

Time to get dressed. Feeling better by the minute as I've had toast now and even a visitor from work. Got up to the loo too and glad I can at least manage that on my own. I ask my husband to help me. Made sure the curtain is pulled at the door so the whole ward and nursing staff don't see my naked, wobbling form. As he bends forward to help me with my trousers, his bottom moves the curtain open and there's people out there looking at me!!!!!!

"AAARRRRGH, watch what your doing!" I exclaimed. Was going to get stressed then but manage to smile. I'm sure they've seen it all before. My dignity was left firmly at the door when I became a patient and I suppose this is what happens when you're ill. Yes, think I'm ill now.

Today's made me realise that I think I am now officially ill, unwell, poorly, convalesing, Tom Dick and whichever way I look at it, I'm not my former self. The cancer has taken away the old Kate and I'm not sure when the new improved model will re-emerge. Maybe the reality has hit me and I realise as this illness and it's consequences unfold, my perspective on life changes dramatically. The values I held and the seemingly trivial worries I had before seem a million miles away and getting over this and through the next trial is the ONLY thing that matters. I'm totally confused at this time and trying to muddle through as best as I can.

Another factor that reminds me I'm ill is that dreaded wheelchair!! Any Top Gear fans will understand this but looking back now, the wheelchair to me is as dreaded as the VW Beetle in the Top Gear challenge when they crossed Africa. You know, the bloody thing nobody wanted to have but they'd use it as their last resort!!! I am so pleased to go home to my waiting family and pizza for tea (notice a theme emerging) and insist I can manage the drain myself (which I can, because I'm a clever girl!) and I leave the hospital to return next week. My husband pushes me homeward bound in the wheelchair, hopefully never to be used again.

Well, only as a last resort...