Three calendar months ago today I had the surgery that was supposed to make me well again – yet it nearly killed me. I still remember in horrifying detail how my lungs suddenly stopped working – I remember everythjng which is pretty terrifying – most people lose consciousness. Stephen still cries at the memory. We have had no explanation, sometimes I do feel things are just being swept under the proverbial carpet.
So how am I – well it’s very up and down still. The beast within me aka Fistula continues to mess about and make life difficult. Yesterday we went out for the day – we visited several lovely coves and havens in Pembrokeshire. It was a sunny but windy day and I enjoyed, walked about a bit, ate a massive ice cream (which may have been a mistake). Last night I felt awful and was convinced they are missing something. I had mild gallbladder pain and felt very uncomfortable, my bladder hurt ( it’s stuck to bowel) and I just felt horrible. I took a painkiller and went to bed. Today we have taken the children out bowling, they enjoyed themselves and I was fine. Tonight I washed the floor, wiped down the window sills outside and potted up some plants! Now I feel uncomfortable again, it’s a law unto itself. I’m a bit worried about my abnormal bloods as Dr Google again paints a bleak picture about progressive liver diseases and all sorts of horrors. I’m seeing a gallbladder doctor on Tuesday and I’m hoping he can reassure me it is my gallbladder and not anything worse. This botched op that resulted in this demon fistula has so much to answer to. I am losing faith with the doctors but what can I do? A second opinion would mean going to London and then what? If he said he could fix me, would I want surgery in London? Cardiff is bad enough logistically – I’m not sure we are up to it. I know my current consultant is looking out for me and I worry I’d offend him by getting a second opinion but then again these last few years have been a disaster where the surgeries are concerned, and has totally changed me and my life. Apart from the physical changes there are psychological ones too – I’m hyper sensitive and cant seem to deal with any stress. Plus the down days, oh the down days…………..
I know I’m no different to millions of people dealing with chronic illness, and some are so much worse than me. I suppose it’s the inability I seem to have to accept things. I’ve had health issues all my adult life and the menopause was supposed to be my panacea. I put things off until the day I was well and what a mistake that was. All the years I worked and really struggled, always putting myself last, I regret that now. I should have done things differently but hindsight is a wonderful thing. All we have is the here and now and I’m trying to make the best of it.