Cancer 9

0727. Today the treatment has a beginning. This afternoon is the pre-op. I will be meeting again with the surgeon and with the nurse, and then have an appointment with the anaesthetist, who may want to test my fitness. Hopefully I am fit enough. The wait is notoriously long. I am going in early to order that, and then write my book in the medical school, where fortunately I can park all day as I work in the medical school.

1057. After spending 20 minutes in the queue for the pharmacy, with the sign indicating a 1 hr 10 min wait for picking up, I was told that my drugs were not in stock. There is a benefit to this. My pre-paid certificate ran out a few days ago, and I don’t become age eligible for free prescriptions until Monday (presents to the usual address please!), so at least I saved a tenner or what ever they cost, though it does mean I will have to drive back to Derby which will probably cost more than a tenner. And that is a good example of Tory economics!

1105. If I am having to hang around all day getting border then you, my dear reader, can also go through something similar reading this. I am now sitting in the cafe of the Medical School in the hospital. I am fortunate in having this sanctuary away from all those sick people! My intention is to spend the next couple of hours reading my book before I have to go for the pre-op appointment. Blog writing is a great avoidance strategy. I am on the boring part of the book, rewriting and editing. It seems to take forever with no visible gain. At least when writing the first draft you can watch the word count gradually go up, 10,000 words, 20,000 words, and feel you are achieving something. At the editing stage it also involves realising how bad the writing is. OK, get on with it.

1248. I managed to finish off another chapter (and by finish I do not mean finish, but completed the latest, penultimate, stage). A couple of things. I am now in the ‘restaurant’, where the main meals are pie and chips or curry. I had curry as being the lesser of two evils (if you know me you will know that I don’t mean that. Give me pie any day. I am just trying to be good). I don’t know why hospitals aren’t compelled to just sell healthy food, given that diet is a key indicator of health. Many of the staff turn up with their own food, boxes of salad, sandwiches and the like. I have also noticed that, despite the rule that they should be worn, fewer people are wearing masks. I haven’t yet been asked about wearing one. In the past I just say ‘I am exempt’. While I want to say ‘I am exempt because I am following the science that indicates masks have no effect on the transmission of viruses’, I should say, ‘I am exempt because I have heart failure, cancer, and lungs battered by previous experience of pneumonia and pleurisy.’ Back to the book. This is exciting isn’t it?

1836. I am back home. It is over. The pre-op lasted over two and a half hours, but it was mostly positive. Good rapport with the nurse. My heart is not bad, my lungs are fine. My blood pressure is a little high but I knew that. My weight is, ahem, and my BMI is more than 20. They even managed to take some blood, which has been difficult since I have had heart failure. The 30 day mortality risk after the operation is 1.48%. The main anaesthetic drug will be diamorphine, injected into my back.  I will have overnight pulse oximetry to check my blood oxygen levels, but it showed 97% today, which is good. I need to go back to the hospital tomorrow with the results of the oximetry test, and then again next week for my prescription. The day before my operation I have to fast and take some high carb drinks. I then need to take tablets to induce the emptying of my bowels before I arrive at the hospital at 7am on the big day. Now I am going to spend the evening doing nothing of importance.