Behind the Curtain

And so there you lie, I lay there, completely reliant on others and in such a vulnerable state, but at this point not feeling as vulnerable, as the happy clappy meds were absolutely doing their job.

I lay in my bed, delighted that I had a window bed, if I was on a plane it would have been the window seat, but on the plane I could have ordered the brandy and box of pringles , sadly not so in that bed with the sun shining through the window and me lying there in the ” glittering” new nighty from Heatons and the new knickers, ( knickers that were the wrong size and so uncomfortable that I was more bothered by them then the absent boob 🙄)

Now thankfully when you have had a very girly op like I did you go back to the gynae ward which is fantastic as its all the ladies, but sweet Mary jesus when you are lying there with drains hanging out of you, trying to be positive, trying desperately to sleep, and your one next to you is on the phone at 11pm having the Lols and screacing, you just want to hop out of the bed and smack her in the face. Not that I would advocate violence but you know what I mean. 🤔

And there I was. Surgery on a Tuesday to be discharged on Friday. I couldn’t get over the fact that after three days I would be on my way.. Isn’t modern medicine great.

Thursday was the day it all hit.The physio paid a visit and went through what I could and couldn’t do from now on. See if you have had the lymph nodes removed there is a risk of Lymphodema ( swelling and pain in arm). She explained that I would not be able to do certain tasks, no washing floors or windows, no carrying heavy shopping and no playing tennis. I could cope with the tennis as I had no intention of applying for Wimbledon any time soon, and well washing floor’s was not my favourite hobby. The lovely tea lady came around.. No I didn’t want anything.. Well ok so maybe a bit of toast. My sisters were coming and going, my cousin visited from Madrid. I was delighted.My daughter visited – I tried not to cry. My mam came. I was heart broken. She had sat with my dad, I didn’t want her to have to sit with me.

I did not want this. I did not want this.

Now strangely enough a lady was admitted opposite me. She seemed familiar but I thought maybe I was imagining things. A beautiful woman, seemed to be nothing serious but she was in the bed all the same. I didn’t speak to her as she had company all the time but she was a special lady. At one point before discharge she had discretely made her way over to me. She had seen me upset. She gently told me it was normal and ok to be upset. She tried to reassure me that I would not always feel this bad. She made me feel better. It turned out this Lady was a nurse, a recovery nurse and had been working in recovery while I was there. She made a difference and I hope maybe someday she will read this post.

Thursday night my husband was with me. I had missed calls from one of my best friends. I had missed the calls but it didn’t matter. There she appeared like a gust of wind going through the ward. Even though I didn’t want to see anyone I was glad to see her.

And there she sat next to me, she held my hand, I tried to be brave but then it came, I started to cry ‘ I don’t want to have cancer, why have I got cancer, I have cancer “.

My husband started to cry, my friend started to cry, and together we dealt with this bastard disease.

And all that time the Curtains were of huge importance, open, closed, those curtains tell a story. When I was feeling good the curtains were open, but most of the time I had them closed. I could hide behind those curtains and laugh, or cry, or just close my eyes in my own space, in my own world and just hope, hope that I would be ok and hope I would make it.

So anytime you are in the hospital, as a patient or a visitor, entering a ward, look at the curtains, and if they are closed it is for a reason, there is a story behind those curtains and maybe be grateful that it is not yours.