Okay so I’m discharged from the surgical ward with Movie Prep and instructions.
What can I tell you about the misery of Movie Prep apart from it’s title sound glamorous but the reality is 24 hours of the runs, which pre surgery days was a bit of a shock, but not post surgery……more on that later.
The phone call came at 10.50 from the hospital, mom was straight to the mixing bowl bless her. You have to drink half the solution in two hours, rest and then drink the over half. The first session took me 4 hours even with my mom encouraging me. The solution is warm, salty and lemon flavoured, every mouth full was awful and I wanted to gag.
The evening came and I’m on nil by mouth so the family decide to have sausage and mash, Steve decides it’s a great idea to keep me company by eating his with me as I was hiding out in the kitchen away from the sight of them eating.
The following day in the hospital with mom for support I met my fellow camera up the bum crew for that day, all old veterans who wanted to tell me how many times they had been through it, that the worst was over and everything was going to be okay, they will tell you if you had cancer today. So dressed in the gown of shame I sat, listened to their stories of bowel horror and just wondered what my life had turned into.
I was called through to the room where a Doctor busy at his computer eventually turned to look at me. He was rude and insensitive “have you lost any weight recently he asked” I replied no “are you anaemic” no I again replied “well it won’t be cancer then, get on the bed” There was about 5 nurses in the room, they sedate you and push the camera up your bum and around your bowel using air to inflate the intestine. I was aware of the procedure and remember opening my eyes and looking at the TV screen. Now I’m no expert but I was shocked at what I saw. A pink healthy circular outer wall and within it a black mass of cells. That image haunts me still.
The worst part of it all was that no one spoke to me, no words of encouragement, no don’t worry your doing well or nearly over. I thought about my son’s teddy bear and how holding something soft and comforting would help, I felt childlike again, venerable and alone, I longed for anything kind and gentle in this sterile lonely room.
In recovery one of the ladies I’d met in the waiting room was happy to announce to me that she had been told it wasn’t cancer, but no one had spoken to me
After recovery mom and I were called into a side room to speak to a nurse. She gave us their report, one for me and a sealed one for me to take to my doctor. Reading through the report with her the first 8 things listed were all normal, excellent but then came the Caecum part of the bowel where they had taken 15 biopsies from a mitotic lesion, there was scarring and it was grossly inflamed, that image of a black mass came into mind.
Leaving the hospital en route back home, reports in hand and black images in my head at least I’m off nil by mouth