Well, it's been a while since I last felt like writing here.
I went to
Monash for the operation. Suffice it to say, nothing much went to plan.
Having arrived late morning for an afternoon operation, just being given an epidural and then at literally the last minute, being bumped for an emergency. Fair enough. They sent me to stay at the
Medi-hotel in the hospital, so Mum, Dad and I went back to their hotel for dinner and I went back to the hospital later.
The surgery was
rebooked for the early morning and proceeded as planned, to the point where after making the main incision across my abdomen, the surgeon did some feeling around inside and discovered that the
coeliac plexus nodes were enlarged, indicating
metastases. So, that was it. They sewed me back up and abandoned the operation.
As I was waking up from the anesthetic, the
anesthetist told me what happened. I was still quite groggy, but I understood what he said and what it meant.
I was taken to a ward to recover and rest. Meanwhile, my parents were still waiting at Theatre for news. They asked for
numerous updates and were told that I was still in theatre. Eventually, they were told that I'd left theatre and the to try ICU. ICU did,'t have me. Eventually, 3 hours after I went to the ward, my poor parents, who must have been beside themselves, were told where I was, but they still hadn't been told what happened, or didn't happen. Joseph, at home, looking after our animals, was still in the dark too.
I told them what the anesthetist told me, and we tried to contact the surgeon for some information, but this proved fruitless for the rest of my time at
Monash. The staff doctors came to speak to me, but were not
particularly knowledgeable about my case, the oncologist not even knowing where my tumour was.
Anyway, a few days in a shared, noisy ward in a public hospital and I was well enough to come home. Mum and Dad stayed and helped for another week and both my lovely sisters came to visit too.
