Greg picked me up and I realised that I could not put my seatbealt on...well, no that isn't exactly true.
I could put it on but it would hurt......it would pass over the area which they had been prospecting for gold in.
I hooked my thumbs under the seat belt and prevented it from reating on my chest.
I felt OK...but I was tired and longing for a good cuppa(the hospital stuff was like maids water and far too milky).
I had a cuppa and a light meal, took my painkillers and went to bed. (come on! I had permisiion...they told me to take it easy and I don't know if it was the srong painkillers, but I did feel tired).
I slept until I tried to turn over onto my left side...then it was just like I was being stabbed by a serrated knife.
I looked at the clock...it was turned 2am. Himself was snoring at my side. I got up and went downstairs. I made myself a cuppa and took two more of the tablets....I also had two ginger biscuits because I felt decidedly queasy.
Once back in bed I drifted off again.
Over the next few days I continued to take the pills(no damn point in being a martyr)...I didn't take it particularly easy. I just did the usual stuff...and two days after the biopsy I had to take Ma for a medical appointment...now pushing her around in her chair made me feel quite uncomfortable.
I had a huge plaster on my chest. It was one of those that sticks like poo to a balnket.
Because I was feeling sore I decided that I would remove it and look underneath...check out any evidence of infection.
There was nothing...no redness, no swelling, and definitely not a hint of a bruise.
(so the arnica, aconite and witch hazel had done their stuff).
My appointment for the results was nine days from the biopsy...the team would have got the results and would meet and discuss where we went from there.
In my head I rehearsed both scenarios...the one where I needed more intervention, and the one where I skipped off into the sunset smiling broadly.
For me this really helps.
I can process the outcomes much more successfully if I deal with things in this manner.
I had Ma to consider and so far she knew nothing.
If I neded more treatment I was going to have to come up with some plausible excuse for being missing for a couple of days......in my head I was going to phone her holding my nose so that I sounded like I had a heavy cold....and didn't want to pass it on to her. That would work...the only fly in the ointment was if I needed more than just surgery....ah well, I could put that in my 'pending file' for now.
This all sounds like I have a controlling streak, but I don't really think that is true....I just like to be in control...to have thought things through and to have plans...a plan A and if possible a plan B.
All we had to do(the we being me, him and Nicola - for although she seemed quite relaxed about it all...I now know she was worried) now was wait for the results clinic on the 23rd of March. Nine days is not a long time...except...it was!
I could put it on but it would hurt......it would pass over the area which they had been prospecting for gold in.
I hooked my thumbs under the seat belt and prevented it from reating on my chest.
I felt OK...but I was tired and longing for a good cuppa(the hospital stuff was like maids water and far too milky).
I had a cuppa and a light meal, took my painkillers and went to bed. (come on! I had permisiion...they told me to take it easy and I don't know if it was the srong painkillers, but I did feel tired).
I slept until I tried to turn over onto my left side...then it was just like I was being stabbed by a serrated knife.
I looked at the clock...it was turned 2am. Himself was snoring at my side. I got up and went downstairs. I made myself a cuppa and took two more of the tablets....I also had two ginger biscuits because I felt decidedly queasy.
Once back in bed I drifted off again.
Over the next few days I continued to take the pills(no damn point in being a martyr)...I didn't take it particularly easy. I just did the usual stuff...and two days after the biopsy I had to take Ma for a medical appointment...now pushing her around in her chair made me feel quite uncomfortable.
I had a huge plaster on my chest. It was one of those that sticks like poo to a balnket.
Because I was feeling sore I decided that I would remove it and look underneath...check out any evidence of infection.
There was nothing...no redness, no swelling, and definitely not a hint of a bruise.
(so the arnica, aconite and witch hazel had done their stuff).
My appointment for the results was nine days from the biopsy...the team would have got the results and would meet and discuss where we went from there.
In my head I rehearsed both scenarios...the one where I needed more intervention, and the one where I skipped off into the sunset smiling broadly.
For me this really helps.
I can process the outcomes much more successfully if I deal with things in this manner.
I had Ma to consider and so far she knew nothing.
If I neded more treatment I was going to have to come up with some plausible excuse for being missing for a couple of days......in my head I was going to phone her holding my nose so that I sounded like I had a heavy cold....and didn't want to pass it on to her. That would work...the only fly in the ointment was if I needed more than just surgery....ah well, I could put that in my 'pending file' for now.
This all sounds like I have a controlling streak, but I don't really think that is true....I just like to be in control...to have thought things through and to have plans...a plan A and if possible a plan B.
All we had to do(the we being me, him and Nicola - for although she seemed quite relaxed about it all...I now know she was worried) now was wait for the results clinic on the 23rd of March. Nine days is not a long time...except...it was!