Wednesday, 12 February 2014
I found out last week that I had been misdiagnosed by the nurse who did my scan a few weeks ago. To cut a long story short, I’ve been told I need a full hysterectomy, and it will obviously take a while to recover. There’s more to it, but now is not the time to dwell on that. The surgeon was very positive and said, “you’re young and fit and it’s my job to make sure you get back there.”
At least they want to get it done as soon as possible so I’ll be going in on 7th March which gives me time to stockpile enough work and sort out other stuff, like dog sitters etc. To say I was shellshocked is something of an understatement. Now the reality is creeping in, which is pretty terrifying, as I’ve never had anything like this before.
As I write this, it occurs to me that I’ve spent most of my time reassuring friends that I will be OK. It’s bad enough hearing the catch in their voices, see the upset in their eyes. So I’m cheerful and pragmatic. Philosophical and ‘brave’.
But actually, it’s easier to be pragmatic. This operation needs doing so I’d rather it’s over soon so I can recover and get on with my life. If I give into those fears, they will take over and that will do me no good. A few people have disappointed me, which has been really hurtful, for at the moment I need people I can rely on absolutely.
Only to those who are nurses have I been able to say how frightened I am. Thankfully they have allayed my fears to a great extent and said to ring at any time. Also, my singing lot have been wonderful - they’re going to set up a rota to bring meals round to me, and to take me out shopping and for outings as I won’t be able to drive for a while. Claire, our musical director, said, “you’ll go mad if you can’t sing, Sue. When you feel like it, we’ll have small groups and come and sing at your place.”
A few other gems include the arrival of a lovely dress that I put on and instantly felt great. Good old Joe Brown. And I was taken out for a lovely lunch last week (a rare treat) with the lone sailor. Anyone who shares their chips on a first meeting must be good news.
It struck me that the weather over the last few months has mirrored not only a very stormy period of my life, but those of farmers, fishermen and many others who are affected by the storms. I know the next few months will be bumpy but there will be calmer waters ahead, and in the meantime there are a few precious days of sunshine like today.
It’s like setting off on a difficult voyage. It’s full of the unknown (to me) but I have a very skilled skipper and crew (I like the gynaecologist very much and trust him absolutely), a seaworthy vessel, and good lifejackets.
It’s really tough doing this on my own. I do so miss having someone to hold me when I have the 3am heebie jeebies. To just be with me when I need them. And to be here when I come home, to do all the things that I won’t be able to do, like lifting, driving, cooking and walking Moll.
But I remind myself that I’m by no means on my own. I have many friends who support me and care about me, and while I need to be tough, so do those that care enough to come on the voyage with me. Those that aren’t will stay ashore and wave us off.
Life tends to throws things at you for a reason (though I have yet to figure out what that may be in this instance). This kind of experience really does make you look at your life, assess the people in it and makes you want to make the most of it. So on Monday I had a great afternoon walking near Trebah and yesterday I had a fabulous afternoon at Trelissick, and enjoyed every minute.
A friend at singing said to me, “you know how much we all love you, Sue,” which made me gulp. I guess I just hadn’t realised.