Blue Tits

I have always been very fond of blue tits.  My blue tit poem even won a competition when I was eight.  I fear it was down to lack of entrants but who am I to complain?  Winning is winning after all and I was never going to win anything with my sporting prowess.  However, this liking for the feathered variety does not mean I ever expected to wear one on my chest.  But here we are.  It really is blue.  I’m peeing blue too.  I like to think on that as my reward for having made it to the bathroom at the top of the stairs.  Nothing like a bit of variety.  Spice of life and all that.

Yesterday passed in a blur.  For much of it I was not conscious.  For much of it I was calm, even peaceful.  For a very little I was scared witless.  But only a very little.  There was an initial flurry of activity as those of us waiting for biopsy were herded, dressed in hospital gowns and slippers, down through the main hospital waiting area for our radioactive nipple stabbings – which were as you would expect: short-lived stinging but otherwise ok.  Before we went, I had a pregnancy test done.  This amused me.  I asked the nurse if the word ‘hysterectomy’ meant anything?  ‘Not much, sadly, it’s protocol,’ she replied.  After that there was much waiting around and twiddling of thumbs.

We were returned to our respective bays on the ward and initially kept to ourselves.  But after about an hour, three of us wandered out and congregated in the sun streaming from the windows.  The next couple of hours passed quickly as we chatted, giggled and generally swapped notes and compared experiences.  Much better than sitting in splendid isolation.

Shortly before midday, I was summoned to theatre first.  I trotted round in my dressing gown and slippers to be greeted by two of the jolliest anaesthetists I have ever encountered.  The whole thing was delightful.  And I do realise what a bizarre thing that is to say.

Two hours later, I was back on the ward, drinking water like a dehydrated fish and asking when I could go home.  Speedily by NHS standards.  I ate the required toast, drank the required water (and then some) and peed the required (blue) pee so having chatted with the surgeon, I left within two hours and was home by 5pm.  From the surgeon’s point of view all went well.  They took 3 nodes which is typical and my results will be available next week.

After all that excitement, I spent the evening snoring on the sofa while pretending to watch the tele.  I do not think I fooled anyone.