From DX to Op
So there I was... I rather liked my breasts, or at least I used to, now I wanted them gone, they were a threat. They felt like they were putting a gun to my head and until I knew the cancer was gone I guessed that was how I'd stay. This turned out to be the case. I didn't really mourn them, or at least not yet, things haven't exactly slowed down enough for those kind of thoughts.
So I'd never had a major op before and I was more scared of the anaesthetic than anything else. This was, it turned out, extremely daft.
I had a bit of a wait before the op and a lovely recovery nurse waited with me and because of the wait I needed a pee. So I was allowed to sneak around the edge of the recovery room and I saw several people looking peaceful after their ops and slowly coming around... the fear then passed.
So in I went, don't remember going under but I do remember coming around. First thing I did was lift my top to check all was OK. Yep, 1 large bandage and no pain, great. No nausea, nothing.
The nurse commented about me asking lots of questions and talking quickly... yep that's me, I made it through stage 1.
Wheeled back up to recovery room and a really difficult night. Not the pain, that was fine, not a lot really, a couple of paracetemol had that under control. No the problem was the incesant binging of people calling the nurse as y little ward was near the nurses station and I'm a light sleeper. I swear I'd have gone and kipped on the sofa in the shared lounge if I hadn't been so wired up.
They kept me in for just 3 days, but I think they really would have had to upgrade the hospital to fort knox level to keep me in for another night.
That said, joking aside. I owe that team of people my life... in a very real and literal sense, I felt that at the time but it would be another 2 weeks before I found out just how much...