It's been a while but I've been having my life saved. It's been hellish. For those with a strong constitution, read on.
I was going to blog about my op beforehand, but I was too scared. Now it's done I can tell you I've had a neobladder made. Basically my cancerous bladder has been removed and a new bladder has been made out of my bowel. It's a big op. A really big op. If I hear another doctor telling me surgery doesn't get much bigger, I'll scream. Believe me, I know. I'll feel the after effects for months. It means I'll pee like your average Joanna but I have to train this bladder so accidents are bound to happen. I won't be staying in any hotels for a while.
The op was at UCLH (University College London Hospital) and I was fortunate enough to be operated on by the UK's leading surgeon in this field. And his robot. I couldn't have hoped for a better team and for that I am eternally grateful.
But God, it's been horrible. Here is my experience in a nutshell:
Op, bleugh, morphine, blur, leaking catheters, getting better, hideous infection, possible complication, tube up nose to stomach, threats of more surgery, threats retracted, antibiotics, getting better, bad bum, CDiff, isolation, getting better, meltdown, home, multiple meltdowns trying to manage equipment (tubes, catheters while neobladder heals), depression, hysterical visit to Whipps Cross, another hospital stay there (excellent care and good food), another infection, turn a corner, feel a bit better and here we are.
The physical pain I'd expected. What I hadn't factored in was the effect on my mental health. I wasn't prepared to be robbed of my personality, my desire to eat, read, socialise, laugh, engage and talk. I hadn't expected it to remove my entire will to live so I just sat there day after day, looking my mum, sister and boyfriend in the eye – the three people who put their lives on hold to be with me every step of the way – and told them repeatedly and with total and utmost honesty that I wish I was dead for this was not a life I wanted to continue living.
I'm meeting with the psychologist this week.
But here I am, alive, eating, not yet reading but seeing friends, not wishing myself dead and now blogging. I said I would blog when I could see a light at the end of the tunnel and when I squint, in the distance, there's a chink amidst the clouds.
I'm officially cancer free. They got the bugger out. However, they want to adopt a 'belt and braces' approach and thus chemo is on the cards. I'm not looking forward to it but if it means getting this bastard once and for all, so be it. I'm lucky the treatment is there. Which brings me to my final point:
A polite note to Jeremy Hunt
You total shithead. I've just had my life saved by the NHS. I saw consultants seven days a week; I saw junior doctors at 7.30 in the morning and the nurses were rushed off their feet with their knackering 12 and a half hour shifts. Why anyone would do any of those jobs is beyond me but I'm so bloody glad they do. I'm glad I'm ill now and not when I'm older when you and your cronies have destroyed the NHS. Do piss off and take your misinformed judgements with you.
Kate
Comments (18)
Kirsty:
Nov 09, 2015 at 12:55 PM
Great piece Kate, I cried and laughed and all the things that go to prove that you are an amazing brave and brilliant person and you can't half write too! The Tories have to go.. I cannot agree more.. Please do fuck off Jeremy Hunt..
Kate Bohdanowicz:
Nov 09, 2015 at 04:22 PM
Thanks Kirsty
pebble:
Nov 09, 2015 at 08:40 PM
Talented you. brave, honest piece of writing. Made me cry. Well done you wonderful person xx
Kate Bohdanowicz:
Nov 09, 2015 at 09:28 PM
Thanks Pebble
Good to hear from you. Hope you and yours are well.
Kate
catherine kelly:
Nov 09, 2015 at 09:44 PM
you are fabulous!! and sounding as clued in, sharp and funny as ever. give my love to the psychologist!
xxxxxx
Kate Bohdanowicz:
Nov 09, 2015 at 10:01 PM
Thanks Cath
I will - she's got her work cut out.
Kate
Jo Chambers:
Feb 13, 2016 at 07:37 PM
I've just found your blog via Twitter and a tweet about Fight Bladder Cancer. I was diagnosed in October and have had a TURBT - which got rid of it - in November and today went back for my 3 month check and I have something else going on so I need another biopsy. The reason I've picked up on you is your age (I'm older, 51, but keep being told how I'm young and atypical blah blah) and I saw that you're a teacher, I teach sixth form A Level History but most of my time is spent on pastoral stuff. I'm not brave enough (yet) to read the post I'm responding to, but I've read the first one, and having spent my time on my own in a clinic waiting room for women, while that for men was full, it's a bit of a relief to read your point of view. Anyway, thank you for being so frank - I am mostly being quite cagey until I sort myself out, as the sympathetic noises I received from some in the know had me running for the hills, and I have had some bizarre reactions (maybe I'll take a leaf out of your book and write them down, I think they'd be quite funny to someone not 'involved'). And yes, our NHS is incredible and Jeremy C..Hunt can do one. X
Kate Bohdanowicz:
Feb 13, 2016 at 09:13 PM
Hi Jo
Thanks for getting in touch and sorry to hear your news. It's scary as hell at first and then it becomes a new normal, which is also scary as hell. Still, I'm getting through it and so will you.
I hope your biopsy comes back negative but if it doesn't, rest assured they can do amazing stuff. You can email me at kate@katebod.co.uk if you have any questions or need to offload.
Yes, people do say and do some bloody stupid things. I'm actually blogging on that tomorrow. Whatever happens, keep your sense of humour as it will help you so much.
Kate X
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