Sunday, 27 November 2011
Friday, 25 November 2011
Going through the process.
4 weeks ago, this Thursday I had my colposcopy done at my local NHS hospital.
It has taken me a while to be able to put this into words. I have felt sullied and violated to say the least.
Fortunately for me this hospital has a designated women's clinic however it's located next to the place where you have pregnancy scans which is a little insensitive if you ask me.
The day started pretty much ok. I slept very well the night before and Mr B and I woke up knowing we had the usual motions of getting up and taking big bean to school.
Surprisingly (considering I am a self confessed control freak) I was coping ok. My feelings about this process have been that, although I don't want it done, it has to be. I can't stick my head in the sand and ignore it or it *could* kill me. I knew it would be unpleasant, (I mean, who likes going for a smear?) but there is no other way for me to get round this other than to open myself up to the world of science. No matter how degrading to my personal space issues.
Mr B was a bit of a wreck. Not outwardly, but inwards. I could sense it, although he was clearly trying hard not to show it and be strong for me. The more he tried, the more conscious of the fact that the implications of today would affect not just me, but my whole family.
It seems quite a few people were unwittingly nervous on my behalf as I was constantly asked "are you ok?" or "how do you feel?" and I think some were irked at the fact my response was a consistent "I'm fine". Because I was fine. I was fine with the fact that this HAS to be done. I don't have a choice. Choices come later. Once we know the facts.
My brother in law turned up, as planned(!), at the time he was supposed to, to look after middle and littlun and I busied myself with getting ready.
Wear a skirt, bring a sanitary towel, don't forget letter, directions etc.
I felt a little awkward asking BIL not to give us a lift as I didn't want the children knowing what was happening or where I was going. I'll deal with that when or if I have to. They are too young to understand all this and I don't want them to know.
So we set off by public transport and arrived at the women's clinic. We were ushered off to a very sad waiting area. The purple "rooms" walls added to the sadness of this area. It wasn't quite a room, more a corridor and it was used frequently as a cut through. A section of no mans land which is emotionally where I felt. Apt.
The clinic was running late so the anticipation built. I was one of two women waiting for treatment and there was another lady who was waiting for someone.
There's only so many times you can avoid the surroundings of utility supply area, dirty utility (located next to the supply cupboard) and the disabled toilet. After 40 or so minutes a HCA came out of the room to my left and proceeded to get supplies etc to replenish the treatment rooms.
I began to get a bit concerned when she dropped a wrapped up pack of surgical equipment and the fear of god set in when she went off asking for help because she didn't know how to set the cryo up. I prayed and crossed everything that she would not be assisting in my procedure!! My silent prayers were obviously heard as the lady next to us was called into that room and then I realised I had in fact been holding my breath!
5 minutes or so later I was called into the treatment room that had been to our right and leaving my husband outside I took a few steps to my predetermined fate.
My colposcopy nurse was lovely. Tracey her name was and she was really kind.
We talked through the procedure and what would happen. She asked "if" she confirmed my diagnosis whether I would like her to perform treatment there and then or if I would require another appointment to have the procedure carried out. I said I'd rather have it done while I was there. Who'd want to put themselves through this again.
So now for the TMI: I got myself undressed from the waist down and positioned myself in the stirrups and the HCA readjusted me a few times before hitting the plunger that sent my head end down and my bottom end up, with hips thrust forward and legs splayed. (not unlike a very vulnerable sexual position. Only without the pillows and the fear if "fuck me, I hope he gets the right hole" *poor attempt at humour*)
At first it was all rather interesting as I was directed to watch the screen whilst the colposcopy camera was inserted, followed by the "dye" and thus having the treacherous areas of precancerous cells visually pointed out to me. Up until this point I was fine. This is exactly as I had expected it to be. Like an over-exaggerated smear that took 15 times as long to perform.
Tracey explained that "treatment" was necessary and confirmed that I was happy for to go ahead. I was, well not happy as such as at this point all my bravado and scientific interest swiftly disappeared.
Tracey explained that she would inject local anaesthetic to the area before performing the procedure.
I think this was possibly the worst part. Having injections inside your vagina is quite painful to say the least. Needless to say I was no longer interested in watching on the screen. I was concentrating very hard on staying REALLY STILL lest the bitch with the needle slip.
After a few minutes the numbness took hold and the HCA slapped an earthing kit to my leg. Freaked. Moi. NO (yes).
The treatment procedure was rather odd to say the least. There was a special hose attached to the top of the instrument and I was informed that this was to suck any fumes out. It didn't work.
Tracey took to removing my precancerous cells with a metal wire that basically cut them out by burning them. The hot wire is necessary to seal the area where the tissue is removed from. Thus removing 3 layers of precancerous tissue and a further "cone" biopsy of tissues whereby if they determine changes I would receive an invasive cancer diagnosis. It didn't hurt but you do have to remain really still and ignore the surge of adrenaline that volts through your body and sends your heart rate into orbit. The smell of burning flesh is quite harrowing but this was the only indication of what was being done.
The procedure took less than 20 minutes and I was helped up, left to get dressed and feeling quite lightheaded.
It was then explained that I would bleed for anything up to 6 weeks. The flow would change between 10-14 days as the burn scabs left my cervix. I must avoid tampons. I must not have sex for 6 weeks and then only afterwards with a condom for 6 months. I would receive a letter within 4-6 weeks detailing the next stage in the process.
I was then sent home to deal with the wearing off of anaesthetic, the labour like tummy cramps and a blood flow like no other I have experienced in the 19 years of menstral flow.
The good news was however, she managed to save my coil.
(W.T.F)
Thank you for reading
Mrs Beans x
It has taken me a while to be able to put this into words. I have felt sullied and violated to say the least.
Fortunately for me this hospital has a designated women's clinic however it's located next to the place where you have pregnancy scans which is a little insensitive if you ask me.
The day started pretty much ok. I slept very well the night before and Mr B and I woke up knowing we had the usual motions of getting up and taking big bean to school.
Surprisingly (considering I am a self confessed control freak) I was coping ok. My feelings about this process have been that, although I don't want it done, it has to be. I can't stick my head in the sand and ignore it or it *could* kill me. I knew it would be unpleasant, (I mean, who likes going for a smear?) but there is no other way for me to get round this other than to open myself up to the world of science. No matter how degrading to my personal space issues.
Mr B was a bit of a wreck. Not outwardly, but inwards. I could sense it, although he was clearly trying hard not to show it and be strong for me. The more he tried, the more conscious of the fact that the implications of today would affect not just me, but my whole family.
It seems quite a few people were unwittingly nervous on my behalf as I was constantly asked "are you ok?" or "how do you feel?" and I think some were irked at the fact my response was a consistent "I'm fine". Because I was fine. I was fine with the fact that this HAS to be done. I don't have a choice. Choices come later. Once we know the facts.
My brother in law turned up, as planned(!), at the time he was supposed to, to look after middle and littlun and I busied myself with getting ready.
Wear a skirt, bring a sanitary towel, don't forget letter, directions etc.
I felt a little awkward asking BIL not to give us a lift as I didn't want the children knowing what was happening or where I was going. I'll deal with that when or if I have to. They are too young to understand all this and I don't want them to know.
So we set off by public transport and arrived at the women's clinic. We were ushered off to a very sad waiting area. The purple "rooms" walls added to the sadness of this area. It wasn't quite a room, more a corridor and it was used frequently as a cut through. A section of no mans land which is emotionally where I felt. Apt.
The clinic was running late so the anticipation built. I was one of two women waiting for treatment and there was another lady who was waiting for someone.
There's only so many times you can avoid the surroundings of utility supply area, dirty utility (located next to the supply cupboard) and the disabled toilet. After 40 or so minutes a HCA came out of the room to my left and proceeded to get supplies etc to replenish the treatment rooms.
I began to get a bit concerned when she dropped a wrapped up pack of surgical equipment and the fear of god set in when she went off asking for help because she didn't know how to set the cryo up. I prayed and crossed everything that she would not be assisting in my procedure!! My silent prayers were obviously heard as the lady next to us was called into that room and then I realised I had in fact been holding my breath!
5 minutes or so later I was called into the treatment room that had been to our right and leaving my husband outside I took a few steps to my predetermined fate.
My colposcopy nurse was lovely. Tracey her name was and she was really kind.
We talked through the procedure and what would happen. She asked "if" she confirmed my diagnosis whether I would like her to perform treatment there and then or if I would require another appointment to have the procedure carried out. I said I'd rather have it done while I was there. Who'd want to put themselves through this again.
So now for the TMI: I got myself undressed from the waist down and positioned myself in the stirrups and the HCA readjusted me a few times before hitting the plunger that sent my head end down and my bottom end up, with hips thrust forward and legs splayed. (not unlike a very vulnerable sexual position. Only without the pillows and the fear if "fuck me, I hope he gets the right hole" *poor attempt at humour*)
At first it was all rather interesting as I was directed to watch the screen whilst the colposcopy camera was inserted, followed by the "dye" and thus having the treacherous areas of precancerous cells visually pointed out to me. Up until this point I was fine. This is exactly as I had expected it to be. Like an over-exaggerated smear that took 15 times as long to perform.
Tracey explained that "treatment" was necessary and confirmed that I was happy for to go ahead. I was, well not happy as such as at this point all my bravado and scientific interest swiftly disappeared.
Tracey explained that she would inject local anaesthetic to the area before performing the procedure.
I think this was possibly the worst part. Having injections inside your vagina is quite painful to say the least. Needless to say I was no longer interested in watching on the screen. I was concentrating very hard on staying REALLY STILL lest the bitch with the needle slip.
After a few minutes the numbness took hold and the HCA slapped an earthing kit to my leg. Freaked. Moi. NO (yes).
The treatment procedure was rather odd to say the least. There was a special hose attached to the top of the instrument and I was informed that this was to suck any fumes out. It didn't work.
Tracey took to removing my precancerous cells with a metal wire that basically cut them out by burning them. The hot wire is necessary to seal the area where the tissue is removed from. Thus removing 3 layers of precancerous tissue and a further "cone" biopsy of tissues whereby if they determine changes I would receive an invasive cancer diagnosis. It didn't hurt but you do have to remain really still and ignore the surge of adrenaline that volts through your body and sends your heart rate into orbit. The smell of burning flesh is quite harrowing but this was the only indication of what was being done.
The procedure took less than 20 minutes and I was helped up, left to get dressed and feeling quite lightheaded.
It was then explained that I would bleed for anything up to 6 weeks. The flow would change between 10-14 days as the burn scabs left my cervix. I must avoid tampons. I must not have sex for 6 weeks and then only afterwards with a condom for 6 months. I would receive a letter within 4-6 weeks detailing the next stage in the process.
I was then sent home to deal with the wearing off of anaesthetic, the labour like tummy cramps and a blood flow like no other I have experienced in the 19 years of menstral flow.
The good news was however, she managed to save my coil.
(W.T.F)
Thank you for reading
Mrs Beans x
Thursday, 17 November 2011
..
Today's the day. Feeling slightly apprehensive this morning. Slept surprisingly well. Loss of appetite yesterday though!!
Cba to motivate myself outta bed, but I gotta.
Will let you know how it went.
Cba to motivate myself outta bed, but I gotta.
Will let you know how it went.
Saturday, 12 November 2011
The list begins.
Have spent a lovely morning with the kiddies and took big bean to his swimming lesson. He's doing really well!
I think this will go on the list of things I'd like my family to achieve.
So far the list consists of:
Mr Bean must learn to drive.
The children should learn how to swim.
Teach them all how to ride a bike.
Teach them to love books and read for fun.
Make sure they learn how to share.
And have good manors.
Teach them how to love and respect each other unconditionally.
I'm sure I'll add many more things as time goes on!
X
I think this will go on the list of things I'd like my family to achieve.
So far the list consists of:
Mr Bean must learn to drive.
The children should learn how to swim.
Teach them all how to ride a bike.
Teach them to love books and read for fun.
Make sure they learn how to share.
And have good manors.
Teach them how to love and respect each other unconditionally.
I'm sure I'll add many more things as time goes on!
X
Friday, 11 November 2011
Cart before the horse?
Have received a new letter today detailing I will have an op next Thursday 17th.
This will precede my initial consultation which is booked for Friday 18th. Not sure if I'm pleased about that or not yet.
Everything's moving a bit quickly and I feel like I'm going in slow motion.
This will precede my initial consultation which is booked for Friday 18th. Not sure if I'm pleased about that or not yet.
Everything's moving a bit quickly and I feel like I'm going in slow motion.
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Seeing things in black and white.
I've received my letter confirming my case is "severe".
I have a gynaecology appointment within the oncology dept (rather eery) booked for Friday 18th November 11 at 9.45am.
Seeing this all in black and white is a little haunting.
I have decided that at the first opportunity I will opt for a hysterectomy. I am categorically not allowed to fall pregnant while they investigate and I see no point in holding out for a baby I may never have when I have been blessed with 3 beautiful children already who need me here and I will push for the highest possible odds for being so!
I am starting to be realistic about the situation and have looked up my life insurance terms and conditions and made an appt to bequeath all my worldly possessions.
I sobbed my heart out in the shower last night.
My fear manifests, not from the possibility of dying but that of the possibility of not seeing my children grow up. Not seeing them become the amazing people I am working so hard to nurture. Of them feeling like they have not known me.
I have now told my Mum and Dad.
That was not easy.
They haven't really reacted which is typical of the emotional dysfunction I was brought up in and makes me want to fight even more to be here for my own children.
The friends of mine that know are asking what they can do and telling me they feel helpless. There's nothing anyone can do except wait.
The waiting game is afoot.
I have a gynaecology appointment within the oncology dept (rather eery) booked for Friday 18th November 11 at 9.45am.
Seeing this all in black and white is a little haunting.
I have decided that at the first opportunity I will opt for a hysterectomy. I am categorically not allowed to fall pregnant while they investigate and I see no point in holding out for a baby I may never have when I have been blessed with 3 beautiful children already who need me here and I will push for the highest possible odds for being so!
I am starting to be realistic about the situation and have looked up my life insurance terms and conditions and made an appt to bequeath all my worldly possessions.
I sobbed my heart out in the shower last night.
My fear manifests, not from the possibility of dying but that of the possibility of not seeing my children grow up. Not seeing them become the amazing people I am working so hard to nurture. Of them feeling like they have not known me.
I have now told my Mum and Dad.
That was not easy.
They haven't really reacted which is typical of the emotional dysfunction I was brought up in and makes me want to fight even more to be here for my own children.
The friends of mine that know are asking what they can do and telling me they feel helpless. There's nothing anyone can do except wait.
The waiting game is afoot.
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
To be or not? That is a question.
My life is suddenly taking a different course. Well, I say "suddenly" like I did not see this coming however I stand at a crossroads with no clue which way this roller coaster of life will take me. It is completely out of my control. It was but now it isn't.
A lot of you will remember a young, not so talented, reality tv star who became a household name for being a bit of a numpty and many of us (me included) really admired her as a person. Jade Goody (RIP) sadly lost her life to cervical cancer back in 2009.
I remember sitting crying for her poor children whilst I watched her deteriorate through the media.
Now I sit facing a similar trail of events and I am very frightened.
A lot of you will remember a young, not so talented, reality tv star who became a household name for being a bit of a numpty and many of us (me included) really admired her as a person. Jade Goody (RIP) sadly lost her life to cervical cancer back in 2009.
I remember sitting crying for her poor children whilst I watched her deteriorate through the media.
Now I sit facing a similar trail of events and I am very frightened.