Tag Archives: panic

Going under the knife!

Well not so much knife – as key-hole exploration and extraction.

Following last Friday’s un-anaesthetised, pain searing biopsy down under, my doctor referred me for a scan.

The scan revealed no obvious nasties lurking in places where they should not be – but did reveal a simple ovarian cyst and a fibroid (possible cause of the ‘just over a month’ long bleeding)

This was then referred to the gynaecologist, who I saw today.

Lovely lady, who is actually the first person to suggest I have a blood test as it probably is all hormonally induced (bloody things), and is going to prod, poke and remove all things that shouldn’t be there – this time thankfully I get to be asleep. (Not that that thought doesn’t fill me with a sense of panic and stress – don’t like hospitals)

I got my paperwork for next week, whilst waiting for my blood test, and rather than worrying about what was going to be done, my immediate reaction was “I can’t stay in hospital overnight! I’ve got SC to look after!”

OK, I’m a totally sad person, in so far as I have never spent a night away from SC. Even when I have been on training courses, I have always got home and driven back the following day rather than stay away.

After speaking to the doctor, I will be able to be sent home as soon as she gives me the all-clear – general alertness after sleepiness I suspect, and pain level – and after a 6pm operation I reckon I can still make it home before 11pm and all the party-goers on a Friday night 😉

I’d better be – I’ve got a charity night to run on Saturday night!

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Stratospheric Stress Levels

Jeez!Not_Waving_But_Drowning

I seriously didn’t think I could be any more of a stress bunny.

But it seems I can.

I know I think way too much than is necessary and this is always bad for me.

I really thought that once I’d told put the wheels in motion to exit my contract the weight would magically lift off my shoulders.

But no!

I still feel that I’m sinking? No matter what I try to do to scrape my way back up to the surface, it’s never good enough, or doesn’t seem to work!

And all the while I feel more and more stressed and panicky to the point of complete, utter and overwhelming nausea! We don’t even mention what it’s doing to my skin, or my hormones!!!

Literally.

I seriously think even 12 months sitting atop a mountain practising chants would not be enough 😉

Still, ever the optimist the glass is always half full, and the stress is only temporary.

I might feel like I’m drowning at the moment, but soon I’ll be waving again 😉

 

Not Waving but Drowning (Stevie Smith)

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

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