About this Blog

This blog started as an online diary and place for me to rant about annoyances in my family.

However since July it has become a place for me to catalogue and express my views and opinions on the treatment I have recieved following the diagnosis of a potentially cancerous tumor in my bowel.

On 3rd August 2011 I was told that it was cancerous. In April 2012 I was given the all clear.

October 15th 2013 I was diagnosed with peritoneal disease and liver metastases. The cancer was back and this time it is inoperable.

It is a little bit out of date as the NHS doesn't tend to have a WiFi connection in hospital and I can only post when I get home and posts take a while to write.

It is NOT about individuals or the nursing profession. It is about some of the inadequacies in the system and the way the NHS is failing some people.

For more inane ramblings, follow me on twitter

To see my crafty loves follow me on Pinterest
Follow Me on Pinterest

Why not like my new Facebook page
http://www.facebook.com/thepoohstickqueen" data-layout="standard" data-action="like" data-show-faces="true" data-share="true">

Or follow my photographic craziness on instragram

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Lets talk about

Today was a particularly horrible day for me. 

It was the funeral of a friend who had passed away following bowel cancer surgery.

It led me to be quite reflective about my own diagnosis and whether I should have done something sooner.

Since Imogen was born I have had problems with my bowels. It started off as being diagnosed as piles. then a fissure but it didn't improve with all the ointments and tablets I was given and so I just learnt to live with it. 

Everytime the cramps kicked in and I thought about going to the GP I remembered the hassle about trying to get an appointment that would fit in with having 2 children and a hubby who works nights. 

The 2 times I did go to the doctors about the cramps I was fobbed off with it 'probably being ovulation pains' or 'menstrual pains'. Both times these were male GP's I saw. 

So I stopped going to the Dr everytime I had a bout of doubling over pain, mostly in the evenings when I was trying to bath the kids, but instead was bent double on the Loo wondering whether this was normal. 

2 days before I was admitted to hospital I went to see the GP again as I was convinced I was anaemic. I was constantly out of breath and kept getting dizzy all the time. This time I saw a female GP, but it didn't occur to me to talk to her about the fact that I kept getting fobbed off with 'womens problems'

She booked me in for a blood test, which I subsequently had to cancel as I was already in hospital and already had the blood tests, knew I was severely anaemic & had had a blood transfusion.

So, what is the point of all this. 

The last time I saw the lady who passed away was on Scout Camp, at the end of May. I had a horrible time on camp with bowel issues and I knew I had to go to the doctor but fitting it in again was a problem. Speaking to people today she had been unwell then too. 

But not only on camp, she had been unwell a lot in the past and had not been to the Dr and had blamed it on other medical things. 

Who knows, If I had been to the GP more frequently and been more demanding maybe they would have caught my cancer earlier, maybe I wouldn't be panicing about getting to Guildford for 9am tomorrow morning to catch the bus to the hospital to be there all day while Tony takes the children to the Mid Hants Steam Railway. Maybe I wouldn't have to endure the unpleasantness of chemotherapy and all the associated side effects and cock ups the NHS has made so far.

But, if by reading this & by knowing what I am going through it prompts you to go to your GP, get your bowel habits checked out, or anything else then it is worth it. I would hate for anyone I know either in person or virtually to go through the hell I have been through. 

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. After tomorrow it is only 6 more sessions, but that is still 6 more trips to Guildford, arranging childcare & work, organising myself and generally feeling pretty rubbish while putting a brave face on it for the children who do not deserve this & and are what give me the strength to keep on going. 

So, Please Talk About Your Bowels