Writer, researcher, music lover, cancer survivor, optimist, Buddhist.
I haven’t blogged in a while because I haven’t had too much cancer-related to talk about. But I thought I’d write a quick post about some of things that are happening seven months post-hysterectomy and five months post-whipple. (I can’t believe it’s actually been seven months since my hysterectomy already.)
Hello! Life is really nice right now. I’ve started back at work part-time and I’m enjoying it. The dress code changed so we can wear casual clothes. I’m looking forward to a couple of weekend trips away with my boyfriend. I’m thinking about doing a PhD. I was anxious last week because I had a phone call on Tuesday asking me to go in for my annual flexi sig on Friday and that was like, no time at all to get used to the idea. But I went and they said my internal pouch is healthy. There’s nothing like that kind of relief.
I feel old
and torn apart
tired and torn apart
torn and tired apart
I tried living
alongside moths
brightside moths
they tell me to
always look on
the bright side too
but the chipper
clip of their wings
gets in my face
they always fly
towards the face
I was the patient
making the anaesthetists
laugh before we went
into the operating theatre
and I still am
but I have a library full
of memories now
and all the books
have been checked out
by me
I open one
and a brightside moth
lands on the middle pages
I slam it shut
the wings stop flapping
there is still no peace
Right now I am continually amazed at how far I have come. For example, I am currently drinking Diet Coke. From a can, without waiting for it to go flat or anything. Do you know how annoying it was not to be able to drink Coke for weeks? I was worried I might not be able to enjoy it ever again. God, I love Coke.
Hello! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I thought an update was in order as I’ve been off the grid for a bit, so here we go.
I had my Whipple surgery on 7th November. It was eight hours long. It would have been six hours but they had to spend the first two just dealing with adhesions from previous surgery. Then I was in the HDU (high-dependency unit, a bit like ICU) for three days – I don’t remember much about that time. And then I was on a regular ward for eight more days.
Throwing on Disenchanted by My Chemical Romance and getting all these words out here super quick just for the sake of keeping this thing and you people, whoever and however many you may be, updated.
I’m having a hysterectomy (and ovaries removed) on 12th September. We can’t collect and freeze eggs first because that process might cause the lining of the womb to grow. So I won’t be having any biological children. I’m sure I’ll deal with that later.
don’t refer me to a surgeon,
refer me to a good friend.
give me a letter urging me
to go to the pub immediately.
don’t refer me to the hospital,
refer me to jack daniels.
after all, he is a specialist
in these things.
don’t refer me to a doctor
refer me to my boyfriend
send me home to do nothing
just refer me back to bed.
This is a quick note about how I tried not to let a bad memory ruin my morning. One of my work colleagues became a dad yesterday, which meant that this morning people in the office were talking about birth, labour, c-sections and epidurals. I sat listening while working (it’s a small office, it’s impossible not to listen), until the bit about the epidural, at which point I grabbed my headphones, went to YouTube and clicked on the first music video I saw. Which, usefully, was Slipknot, but anything would have worked to drown out what they were saying.
I realised this week that I have sort of come to be quite fond of my stoma site. Yeah, you can see where the staples used to be and the skin stretched, and the scar is a bit raised and lighter than the skin around it, and I can’t really feel when I touch it. But it sort of goes in a bit, like a dimple, and I think it’s sorta cute? If I could change something about my belly I would lose a bit of weight from it and tone it up a bit. I have come to love my scars and I wouldn’t want to get rid of them or change them. <3
© 2022 Sam Alexandra Rose
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑