After my operation I came round in the recovery room. It’s amazing just how quickly you come round and how my brain said to me check it out. So that was what I did. One…was as far as I got and I promptly burst into tears. The nurse sent to take me back to the ward didn’t know what to do. But she tried her best. I was left on the ward to be with my girlfriend, mum and dad.
After I had been given enough time to recover the surgeon came to see me. He walked to the foot of my bed, stood tutting and shaking his head. I am now dying. In the space of a few seconds I was convinced. My bed was by a window and I was all set for throwing myself out and finishing of the job. Dying at twenty-six years old was not on my list of things to do. Eventually after convincing me, my girlfriend mum and dad he told me “ You’ve got CANCER”.
He then asked my parents and girlfriend to step to one side. Drew the curtain around me and took them into another room and went through his fantastic communication skills again.
That evening I got a full house of visitors all looking in a state of shock. I remember crying quite a lot at that time.
On Saturday I left the hospital doubled up. Off home I went.
The 17th March 1995, was the beginning of the rest of my life.
(Over the next few months a random blog will appear, telling the experience of that day, week or month. There will also be some video clips popping up along the way, certificate 18 in places, just because of the swearing. This is more about me signing off 25 years since I was forced to take a very different footpath to the one I had imagined, If you find them interesting or funny along the way then that’s great.)
It’s been a roller coaster of a journey, with ups, downs, twists and turns…….It’s been 25 years!