I am shaking…gutted.
Because the thing I feared most has turned up in my pre-op tests.
No. Not a definite barrier. But a hurdle I have to overcome, with just three working days to go.
Blood. Blood in my urine. Which my gp and everyone who I’ve spoken to goes: its probably nothing.
But apparently I should not proceed with my op unless I have some additional tests. Which Brighton can carry out. But which will require, possibly, a lot of extra expense. The best part of £1,000!
And the possibility…supposedly a long shot, but the possibility, nonetheless of a last minute test and red light.
Aaaaargh! I can’t stand this. Its been a week so far of badly behaved relatives (of which more later). Not unexpected, apparently: I am told that all those who don’t want the op to happen tend to wait til the last minute to raise objections.
But still. Liz – bless her! – at Brighton tells me this is routine…that she is 99% sure there won’t be a problem. I just have to find the funding and we are emergency asking the pcty if they’ll stump up the cash. After all, i’ll need the investigation and i’ll be in a clinic that includes a consultant urologist amongst its staff. Sort of makes sense to get it done there.
But the final test will be carried out, probably, when I go under. Huh? So in theory I could wake and the op not be done.
I don’t think I could stand that.
Still, it puts everything into perspective: doubts and the like. As the date has come closer, I’ve begun to feel the pressure and begun to wonder, to worry as to whether this is right for me.
Hmmm. Nope. The thought of not going ahead on the 12th has me howling inside.
This op has to happen. I can’t imagine what I’d do if it didn’t.