A real-life, one sided battle, between a robot and a flesh and blood human has just taken place. Like the terminator, this machine was driven by a computer and killed without remorse or conscience. The human didn’t stand a chance.
The computer was programmed by a human and it’s operator was very human, caring and a very skilled surgeon. The flesh and blood that succumbed to this onslaught was my lung cancer. Yes it’s out, but like the rubber monsters from the 1960’s sci-fi TV shows, this one put up quite a struggle. No meek submission from this creature, no quietly going through the keyhole the kind surgeon had made. No, this monster wanted a proper final fling that only a full thoracic exit would allow. Perhaps more like me than I care to think.
That was last Thursday. It’s now out and gone to be thoroughly tested and classified by people in white coats. I’m glad it’s out, it’s what every cancer suffer wants but not all can have, for that I am very grateful.
I was in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) and being looked after by the kindest of nurses. We all talk glibly about the caring profession but it isn’t till you really experience it day after day that it really hits home how much people sacrifice to make others feel better. Yes they get paid but not nearly enough for what they do.
For my overseas readers, this is not the fabulous National Health Service (NHS) that you have read about, but a private, insurance based service that you are probably more familiar with. Perhaps a blog for another time.
Hello I am the author of this blog and it is fitting that you meet me like this for the first time. My story meanders like a winding river from topic to topic but this picture captures a brutal and realistic scene, even if I am playing the fool. The pain is controlled but it is very real and there. Coughing with a large hole in your side doesn’t bear thinking about, the pain even with the drugs is hard to bear but several times a day I have to do this, cough that is. Oh and yes it pays to have a good sense of humour. With your butt/ass/behind, hanging out the back of your gown and everyone having seen your bits by the end of day one you just have to get comfortable with it. Having said that, everyone does their best to protect your modesty, it just isn’t always possible.
The talking point of your day may have been your commute or shopping but mine was peeing, putting it simply I couldn’t. This is quite common after procedures. I had a litre of urine in me and I knew that if I couldn’t go I would have to have a catheter procedure. Wanting to go but not being able to is a strange feeling and then a performance worry made it worse, I didn’t want a hose pipe shoved up my man bits. The performance issue was in my head of course but very real. I got there in the end by running taps and some things that even I won’t share, and then the flood gates opened quite literally, the longest pee ever. Imagine pouring a litre bottle of water into the loo/toilet, ahhhhhhh!
Please excuse any grammatical issues, I am writing this on my phone and I’m full of morphine so my friends you’re going to have to cut me some slack for a while. Enjoy your day and spare a thought for professionals who make it their life’s work to look after the rest of us.