Day 6 7/3/20
Good morning Facebook chums
Guts ache. Let's have a moment to contemplate guts ache.
Mr Adam Widdeson, he's not a Facebook chum but a consultant surgeon at Treliske, now he gave me proper guts ache and I'm oddly pleased about it. Maybe later I'll go someway to explaining how he did it but it's breakfast time now.
Due to my aforementioned (not self) isolation in hospital things certainly quietened down. I left what the nurses agreed was probably the warmest place on the ward to the coldest. A side room, relative peace and quiet, my own tv, bathroom, toilet and no visitors. You, my Facebook chums kept me sane.
Yesterday I had no visitors. I would have been poor company and any visitors could only come to the door anyway because of my contagious disease. Although I had no visitors, a couple of staff realised the benefit of having an alert and chatty patient to natter with for a little while. Mostly, more than any other day I dosed between eating and frequent visits with variable results, to my own bathroom. Mr Widdison popped in in the morning had a quick chat about my operation a told me I could go home " if you're going to be sick you're happier throwing up in your own bathroom than here" he had a point. A mere 10 hours later I was on my way. You can't rush a good thing.
Mr Widdison arrived in the afternoon to give me the news that the mass he excised was about the size of a gobstopper yuk, was close to my spine, the deeper it is the bigger the incision (very deep = very big), was cancer leftover from my previous episode, he removed it all without incident and the tests, which were already back, indicates no requirement for chemotherapy. Happy days. P.S. I only had between 3 and 6 months left. Scary! Actually fucking scary!
I learnt a couple of interesting lessons.
1. Hospital tv is weird. It shows lots of beginnings of programmes seamlessly followed by the end of the next.
2. If your heart rate is being monitored when your consultant walks into your room watch it soar from 67bpm to 105bpm.
Mr Widdison left, the nurse who was taking my blood pressure left and I was left to resume watching the beginning of "Money for Nothing" and the end of "Ready Steady Cook"
My escape plan came together nicely. 10 hours in the planning. Timed perfectly, no sooner had the pharmacy delivered their drugs consignment than action commenced. My lookout Tricia arrived first followed by my getaway driver Chris. I distracted the guards after changing into my civvies. Gingerly shuffled into my chariot. And we stormed gently into the sunset.
3. The road right outside the entrance to Treliske is like a series of bomb craters.
We rumbled across anyway. A quick check of my dressings and we were finally away.