Week 10- she’s gone nuclear!

I had anticipated that surgery would be on the afternoon of the first day of week 10, after my full body scan, or else three days later, on the following Monday. However, after much chasing of cancer nurses at the hospital, it transpired that it wasn’t now going to be until the following Wednesday.

My circle of influence has pissed off…

It was not a major setback in the scheme of things, but once you are on this rocky road, and finding that your circle of influence and control grows smaller and smaller with each passing day, even these little bumps in the road hit you that bit harder than they normally would.

My mother was particularly upset.  She had flown over so that she could be here for my recovery, but was having to fly back the following Monday, having other things to deal with at home.  This meant that now, if I had any delays in terms of coming out of hospital, we would have to make alternative childcare plans for my son.  It is these sorts of things which make situations like this stressful.  The surgery itself is one thing, but the organisation that goes around it is something else.  Oh well. It was done, and wasn’t to be undone.

Beam me up Scotty…

On Day 1 of week 10 I had my full body scan.  I have discovered that the speed at which things get done in France seems to be quite different at times to the UK.  I arrived for my scan at 8am (again, another lovely friend insisted on driving me). I was then injected with some sort of nuclear product so powerful that it had to be done from behind a screen using safety gloves and goggles. (I imagine this is what my son would say if he had been there). I then relaxed while this nuclear product entered my bloodstream, no doubt lighting my insides up ready for the scan.

I then had the scan itself.  I was expecting it to be like an MRI, with loud booming noises and some very inappropriate music played over the top. Instead, it was a very gentle hoop hovering over my body for around twenty minutes and then it was all done.  I then had some snacks and was asked to wait a few minutes for the radiologist to speak to me. Then I was given the amazing news that my scan showed no other signs of cancer in my body, which, as you can imagine was a giant relief.  I asked about my lymph nodes, but again, he could see nothing there, although did indicate that there could be something miniscule not picked up by the scan.

Waiting…and waiting…and waiting…

I say this seems to be quite different to the UK procedure, because I had a friend going through a scan in the UK on the very same day.  She was going to have to wait up to three weeks for the results, in terms of the fact that the results would be sent to a radiologist, who would then send them on to her oncologist, who would then make an appointment to see her.  The French health care system is far from perfect, but you do wonder if maybe the cutting out of the middle-men and what seems to be several layers of administration is what enables such a difference in turnaround times?  Who knows, all I do know it that it was a relief to get the results there and then, and not to be waiting, unknowing for several weeks whilst they get passed from pillar to post in the hospital.

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