Just eight weeks ago it occurred to Clever Bird that it might be a jolly good idea to take Baggy Body to the Doctors. Baggy had spent months assuming that the sharp stabbing pains that she was getting in her stomach and "nether regions" were as a result of that thing, lovingly known as "The Change". But on this particular morning Grotty Groom was supposed to be riding her gorgeous horse, Wesley out with a friend. Now Wesley might look like a cute, innocent, easy-to-ride, coloured cob but in reality he's more of a D.T. (a Dobbin cross Thoroughbred). He's incredibly sharp and can be spooky with it. So whenever Grotty rides him she has to know that Baggy is both mentally and physically up to it. Clever Bird realised that on this particular morning, she just wasn't. She was in so much pain that she could barely stand, let alone find the core strength to sit to a Wesley spook. So Clever Bird dragged her off to the Doctor's.
Apparently Baggy was a funny shade of normal when she walked in, because the receptionist gave her an unheard of, instant appointment. After checking for and ruling out appendicitis and a urinary-tract infection, an external and internal examination revealed that Baggy appeared to have a large mass that shouldn't be there. Unfortunately, Clever Bird was perhaps not as surprised by this devastating piece of information as she should have been. For, truth be told, she'd felt a peculiar lump in Baggy months and months beforehand. But as her husband Calum frequently states, "for a very clever bird she can be pretty stupid sometimes". And because she didn't want to face facts she had chosen to a) ignore it and b) not mention it, because in her mind it was probably just a menopausal muscle lump on an ovary OR something serious!
This is when the wonderful British NHS swung into full superb action. Within 24-hours an ultra sound confirmed that there was lump of about 11.5cms in front of Baggy's womb. A week later she met a Gynaecological Oncology Surgeon who explained that it appeared to be on the right ovary and was possibly (but not necessarily) ovarian cancer. An appointment was made for an MRI scan a week later.
Now, unfortunately Baggy is rather claustrophobic, so being trundled into a tube, strapped down on a board for 45-minutes was never going to pan out terribly well. The only thing that prevented Baggy from pressing the panic-button and being trundled straight back out again, was Clever Bird pointing out that that would mean them having to start again, so Baggy would be stuck in there even longer. She was brave. She stuck with it. She nearly passed out in a shaky, dizzy, tearful mess as she walked away from the machine, but at least a 3D-image of the lump had now been created. In the meantime, said lump had been named, "Lawrence" by Creative Clara. Clever Bird thought that while ever the lump was around it needed to be befriended. Clara thought the name to be appropriate. So, another two weeks later Baggy and her husband returned to meet the Oncology Surgeon once again. She had previously been informed of Lawrence's name, so greeted us by saying, "It's good news, Lawrence has hair and teeth so he is not cancer!". "I'm sorry?" says Baggy, "he has what? Noooooooooo!".
"But that's good news. It means he's quite rare. He's a Durmoid Cyst. He's probably on your right ovary, but he's 15cm in diameter so we can't really tell. But, it's GOOD news". "Hang on, go back, he's how big? He's grown 4cm in four weeks?" "Well no, one person's 11.5cm is another person's 15cm, but it's an MRI scan as opposed to an ultra sound , so is more accurate". "But that's HUGE".
"Yes. It will mean that Lawrence needs to be removed along with everything around him".
So the date for the operation was set for November 4th 2015. A total abdominal hysterectomy, bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy and omental biopsy.
To give Freda Fretter a little more to worry about, whilst waiting for the meeting to discuss these results, Clever Bird had found another lump in Baggy! This one was in Baggy's right breast, near her breast bone. It wasn't big. It was extremely painful. This time Clever Bird realised that it should not be ignored, even though that option was more than a little bit tempting. So once again Baggy was dragged to the Doctors for an emergency appointment. The lump was confirmed. It was also explained that it was unlikely to be cancer as it was so painful. "Phew!" But it must be checked. "Oh?" Another urgent referral was made to Ipswich hospital. So what were they thinking? Son of Lawrence maybe? So Creative Clara called him, "Lionel".
So in one of the many waiting periods for Lawrence, Lionel was thoroughly checked out. In one day, a physical check confirmed that Lionel was not a figment of Freda Fretter's imagination. A mammogram showed nothing unusual, just very "dense breast tissue". An ultrasound confirmed there to be absolutely nothing of concern. Lionel did not warrant a name or a second thought. Baggy was asked whether she's had any traumas around her rib cage. Well, yes, Grotty had had various unscheduled dismounts from Wesley, two of which were severe traumas including a shattered collar bone and four broken ribs. So it was concluded that the lump was probably nerve damage on the rib cage from one of these traumas. Okay, good. One less lump to worry about. Just Lawrence then.
Four weeks waiting to find out that Lawrence was just a very big nuisance rather than a nasty lump. A further four weeks knowing that Lawrence was inside me with hair and teeth. (Maybe the stabbing pains were him biting Baggy. Yuck!) And waiting and wondering how awful Baggy was going to feel after the operation. So just eight weeks on, Baggy is home sans Lawrence. Five days in hospital being looked after very well means that the worst of the pain is over.
As part of the original operation Baggy was given an injection of morphine and antibiotics in her spine. She was then on liquid morphine for three days. So the absolute worst pain was two days after the operation. Clever Bird explained that this was because the morphine injection had by then worn off. Worse still, it was because Baggy at that stage, would have made a grand hot-air balloon. The morphine, anaesthetics and trauma had caused her to become constipated and wind had built up. Sadly Baggy's upbringing prohibited her from doing anything so lewd as to let air expel from any part of her body, other than her nose, unaided! And if it must come out, then let it do so in the privacy of the bathroom. This was a disaster. By Day 3, Baggy Body should have been renamed "Baggy Blimp". The pain from trapped wind is unpleasant at the best of times. But trapped wind against swollen raw wounds, well it's absolutely excruciating. So bad in fact that Baggy found it impossible to get out of bed without help.
So Clever Bird stepped in. She made Baggy do the physiotherapy exercises that she'd been given and got her walking around the ward regularly. She also got her to drink the Lactulose she was given. But best of all, she told Baggy to "let it go". The best advice ever. Who cares? especially on a Gynae. ward in a hospital. With that hurdle over and an extra day in hospital because Baggy didn't heed the "let it go" advice earlier, Baggy just had to get over the spaced-out feeling to feel confident enough to go home. Everyone had put this feeling down to the effects of the anaesthetic and the current effects of the morphine. But as they were no longer an issue, Clever Bird was worried that Baggy still kept feeling spaced-out, dizzy and breathless. She'd also noticed that Baggy's observations seemed to have deteriorated since the morphine had worn off: blood pressure from too low, to quite high; pulse rate up from around 60 to 120.
This also had raised alarm bells with the nurse who resorted to the old-fashioned pulse-checking way of fingers on wrist-pulse. Only to whizz off to get a Doctor who did the same thing. So just as Baggy was expecting to be sent home to recover, Clever bird registers that the Doctor is telling her that she has a heart problem and that she needs to get an urgent 24-hour ECG monitoring..........
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