Checking in for the "Big One" this time...

I was admitted on Tuesday 11th April for "the big op". I was given another lovely private room - Room 10 - right next door to the nurse's station. Unfortunately, the building was so old, there were no ensuites, there was only one shower and 2 toilets on the entire ward - and they were at the opposite end of the corridor! But apart from that, I couldn't complain. The nurses were absolutely wonderful. Leona was with me checking in as Avril and Fergus had to work. When we were given the menu for this round's "last supper", having learned from previous experience, we decided we were going to need to escape and scavenge for something else! Baked beans and a cheese sandwich did not sound particularly appetising!

The first nurse to look after me was an amazing lady called Mary McDonough. She was outstanding - both in her skill as a nurse and in her kindness and compassion as a human. I will never forget her. She gave us permission to abscond across the road to the nearby pub, "the Sliding Rock", for dinner. I even had a cheeky Sambucca (with Mary's permission!) with a feast of chicken goujons and sweet potato fries! At this stage Fergus had joined us and it almost felt like a night out. Only the hospital bracelet on my right wrist served as a constant reminder that it would be the last evening out for quite some time.

We headed back over to the hospital later, and Leona went home. We had a few visitors, MT, Karena, Mary... people that wanted to wish us luck for the surgery. It was emotional, very emotional. When they left, Fergus and I just sat there together. The TV was on but neither of us paid any attention to it. I remember Fergus changing the batteries in the remote... even the littlest distraction was a welcome blessing. We talked a little, hugged a lot and cried some tears too. We were both terrified but Fergus, God Bless him, was being so strong for me. The nurses let him stay as late as he wanted but by around 11pm I insisted he go home and try get some rest. He left me with this photograph below which I placed on my locker.  If love alone could cure cancer, then we would beat this. I would have the most radical surgery the doctors could do and I prayed they would take all the cancer out of my body. They had to. I wasn't ready to die. And today, nearly 3 years on as I write this, I'm still not ready, and I wont be for some time to come please God.

My Motivation to Get Well

Fergus and Avril arrived in early the next morning before rounds had even began. I was so relieved that Avril was able to spend the day with him and keep him company while I was in theatre. The surgeons told us it would be a long operation.

We had lots of phone calls and messages of love and support, and then before I knew it, it was my turn. I wanted to walk to theatre but they insisted on the trolley. The porter tried to make some light hearted jokes. Fergus walked right beside me with Avril not far behind him. We didn't get much time to say goodbye at the theatre doors but I will never forget the look on his face as  I had to let go of his hand... I blew him a kiss and was wheeled further and further away from him. On his face was a mix of fear and an outpouring of strength and positivity for me.

Our Decision to try Smile through it all - this was just moments before I was wheeled to theatre

In the pre-op room, I saw a nurse escorting a pregnant lady around explaining to her that this would be where she would be having her C-section in a couple of weeks. The pregnant lady gave me a big beaming smile. Perhaps she thought I was on my way in for a c-section... I did the best I could to muster up a smile back before breaking down in tears once she turned away.

To add to the pain, the pre-op room also doubled up as the neo-natal rescus suite for the babies delivered in the theatre. Having worked for a time in paediatrics and neo-natal medicine, I was well familiar with all the equipment. Seeing the little hats, baby warmers, newborn nappies, tiny paediatric stethoscope and all the other little instruments just added to the pain and raw grief I was feeling. There was no nervousness or fear. Just pure heartbreaking and gut wrenching sadness that it is difficult to put into words. Dr Eby put in the cannula and a nurse called Majella attached leads to my chest. She tried her best to comfort me, but i was inconsolable.

There seemed to be a very sombre atmosphere in the theatre this time round, or perhaps that was just a reflection of how I was feeling. The consultants Michael and Nik popped in to reassure me they were going to do their best to take as much as they could. Then Dr Eby placed the epidural as the nurses held me upright, sitting awkwardly over the edge. That was probably the worst part as he had to make a couple of tries to get it sited correctly. Then, I was put laying down and I just remember thinking about Fergus, praying I'd be ok for him and crying as the anaesthetic took effect and I fell asleep.