Well…I’m back online so all’s well. Kind of. I had the op last Monday as planned but because my life is always one step away from a drama, it got complicated. Half way through, with my guts out on the table, my heart arrested for four and a half minutes. A little longer and they would have been bagging me up. But after much effort it restarted and the op was completed. Six hours altogether for a 2 hour procedure. All the time my family were kept waiting for news because it was pretty touch and go it seems. That was one hell of a day for all of us but I’m home now and, although very sore, recovering steadily. I owe a lot to a lot of people but I’m not going to bang on here because I’m keeping this one for my book. It’s good to be back but even better to be still here of course.
Medical update…….Gary Neville’s first punditry footballing words; ‘be careful what you wish for’. He was talking about a new manager. It’s so banal but so relevant to my own situation.
I had a sigmoidoscopy a week or so ago. I was reminded of Gary’s words before I spoke to the registrar yesterday after she’d consulted on my stomach problem. I was delighted to be told I didn’t have diverticulitis as I really didn’t fancy the idea of having that as an ongoing problem. The downside is I do have something else and I’m guessing it’s not good. And now I need a CT scan and another invasive filmic examination up my back passage, this time to the far far reaches of my colon. Oh deep, deep joy. A slightly inflamed bowel lining seems like a not-too-bad condition now I think about it.
I’m not trying to anticipate what the prognosis might be but here’s the deal. I know I inherited my father’s hair gene. The one which resulted in near baldness at 30. Thanks Dad. But is that the worst that can happen in life? Of course not. Believe it or not full-headed readers but being shaven-headed is massively more appealing to me than struggling with creeping baldness (though a lot of frigging extra shaving work).
My dad and his forbears I forgive. I can live without hair. The problem is that I have more than likely inherited my mother’s Smith family gene for susceptibility to cancer. It’s taken my mum, her brother and sister and own mother. I don’t know for sure as yet but I kind of suspect it given the coded language in which I’m being spoken to and the almost menstruating quality of my early morning sessions on the loo. Sorry to be so graphic readers. Would it have been so bad to have been blessed with my mum’s luxurious hair gene and Bob’s mild stomach issues? Lawdy where were you when it came to overseeing my family’s natural selection processes eh? I think the Great Architect must have had his back turned sorting out those pesky Yorkies when the Lancashire Smith family genome was being assembled.
Hey ho. Another bulletin this time next week folks
Well I went for the consultant’s examination on my possible narrow angle glaucoma problem and the outcome was…..all positive. Woo hoo. I don’t have to have my eyeball popped out and cut into with a scalpel. On the down-side I do have to be nice to people and little animals now and it’s also just cost me £500 for two pairs of new glasses; one for near stuff and a pair now for driving and long distance viewing. Ah well at least I can see properly again and I’ve avoided the worst operation imaginable (slight exaggeration but you know what I mean).