I left the appointment and all hat I could think was how soon that was. My mum kept reassuring me that it was a good thing, that I wouldn’t have time to think, and I knew she was right. I am very good at overthinking and worrying, so the less time I have to do that the better really. The lack of  time also meant that I had lots to do in not a lot of time, I wanted to see some friends, prepare things at home, so when I got out of hospital I was set up and ready to settle back into my own space. 

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do much like cooking and cleaning for a while and so I started batch cooking meals for the freezer to take the load off  my mum and partner, who would be teaming up to help out while I recovered.  

I had to consider my sweet little Willow, and the cats, we are so lucky that a wonderful local friend is the best dog sitter we could ask for and takes the best care of Willow, and we have a fantastic woman who pops in twice a day to take care of the cats needs. 

I had to pack a hospital bag, lots of comfy clothes, pyjamas, nothing tight or high wasted, slippers, headphones, toiletries… what was I forgetting? 

I kept myself very busy that week, racing around doing a million things and the end of the week came, my partner and I decided to have our favourite  Chinese take way as it would be the last one we would be having for a while. She went to collect it, and I was alone for the first time since all of this had kicked off, properly alone, with my thoughts and that was the first time it properly hit me. I had cancer, I was going to have major surgery and I was actually scared. 

I suppose these things hit everyone at different times but it hit hard. 

Each day after that felt a little easier its true that sometimes, a good cry helps, that was until the day before we were due to travel to London. I couldn’t go to drop Willow off, it just felt too sad, but as usual she practically pulled my partners arm of when she figured out where she was going, she was so excited. Willow loves her dogsitter, and she loves willow, so it was not as hard as it could have been to let her go for such a long time.  

I had one more appointment, before the big day arrived, so again, off we went to hospital, for me pre-surgical assessment. This was an easy enough day really, a series of blood tests, and measurements of my height, weight and lots of general obs, such as blood pressure, an ECG. Lay down my resting heart rate was 135BMP! It was just another way to highlight to me that I wasn’t doing well, that this cancer was having a real impact on my body. We had to go over all my medical allergies (there are LOTS) and I was again briefly talked over the surgical plan, then off we went back home, to sleep in my own bed for the last time for a while.  

The following day soon came,  and my mum arrived and we hopped on the train to London. Ready as I would ever be for surgery. We had  rented a lovely apartment, the apartment was booked for mum and my partner for the week and I was just staying the night before surgery. It was anticipated I would be in hospital for at least a week post surgery. I am so lucky  and grateful that they were willing to stay around to make sure I was ok after the surgery. Not only being physically limited after surgery but also being blind was going to complicate things. I was nervous about navigating the ward alone, about not knowing who was around me, about not being in a familiar environment, whilst being in pain and recovering from surgery.  

That night we took things very easy, I was so nervous, but we ordered an Indian take away and tried as much as possible to enjoy the evening. 

I remember despite being incredibly nervous, I was also hopeful, that eventually the things I was experiencing as a result of the cancer would resolve themselves and I might, one day soon feel better. 

The morning soon rolled around. We had to be at the hospital for 7am, so in the early hours, we walked over to the hospital. The whole way I was shaking with the nerves, each step getting closer to the scariest thing I had ever had to do. 

I was shaking the whole way and my stomach was spinning faster than my thoughts. The walk took us past some of londons most iconic landmarks. Soon enough we were at the ward, the surgical intake ward, there were a few other people waiting to be allowed in, waiting on chairs outside the ward until our name was called. When my name was called, me my mum and partner were ushered into the ward and shown to a  small side room.  Then, the day truly began.  I had never had surgery,  until this point and so had no idea what to expect from it, but it was smooth and I felt well looked after, of course I hope no one reading this has to go through any kind of major surgery, but if you do I hope that this could perhaps give you some kind of idea what you could expect on the day of your surgery. 

The first thing I had to do was to confirm I was the correct person, and confirm exactly what surgery I would be having. We were then given a surgical gown, some very attractive paper underwear, and long compression stockings, that went right up to my knee. One I was dressed in such a beautiful outfit, I met with a nurse who again went over all my details, the surgery I would be having, my allergies, blood pressure and heart rate. 

I then met with the anaesthetist, my nerves building by the second. She was so kind and talked through all my options in regards to pain relief. I opted to have an epidural to minimise pain post surgery, but was told this would require a catheter for a couple of days afterward as I wouldn’t be able to walk properly. But after being told by everyone so far that this was a big surgery and would be very painful, I was ready to take any pain relief I could get! She wished me luck and said she would be seeing me very soon I just had one more person to meet with before I the main event – the surgeon himself, who had arrived on the ward. He spoke to me again about the plan for the surgery, and what to expect from the recovery, again being told it would be a lengthy process, and that I would likely be in some significant pain afterward, despite being warned of this at each step of the way, I am not sure I fully comprehended quite how painful and difficult it would actually be. 

Anyway, he then once again looked at my abdomen  and drew a small cross on my left hip, just to make absolute sure that he made the correct incision  (ha)

The anaesthetist  then came back to take me down to get started on the surgery. I was only allowed one person with me,  I felt so mean having to choose between my mum and partner so they decided between themselves that my partner would go with me from here. So we were ushered into another room where there were two other anaesthetists  a bed and a chair, I was told to sit on the bed, and again my blood pressure and heart rate were taken, however this time they kept it on, it would be on me now the whole way through surgery. A canula was inserted into my hand and then I was prepared  to have the epidural. I had to sit with my knees to my chest, bent over slightly and with a pillow wedged by my stomach. She warned my partner the needle she was about to use was big, and so she would recommend her to not look and sit down for this part. It was minimally  uncomfortable  for a few seconds before I felt nothing at all from the waist down, I was then helped to lie on the surgical bed I had been sat on, I couldn’t actually move my legs at all so the team helped me, shuffle my hips and move my legs into the right position, one slight adjustment of my compression stockings and I was ready for the big moment, to be sent off to sleep. 

As the mask was put  over my mouth I was told to slowly count back from 20, but I don’t even remember reaching 19, before it was all fuzzy and I was gone. I cant teel you what went on for the next five hours, because the next thing I knew I was coming round in the post surgery intensive care ward, with a nurse sat beside me.