How it all began – A sunny October day

My journey with the c-word started on a beautiful sunny day in early October.

Well to be fair, it must have started quite a long time before, I just didn’t know about it yet.

I’d been having some difficulty swallowing food and weird throat spasms for around 3 months, mainly during my evening meal, but not every time I had something to eat.    Realising that it seemed to be getting worse rather than better, I booked an appointment with my GP who put me on an urgent referral for a camera down my throat to check what was going on.

I walked to the hospital that morning feeling really nervous about the endoscopy I was about to have.   I was so worried about if it was going to hurt and whether I’d be able to tolerate the camera that I wasn’t really thinking about much else.   I certainly wasn’t focusing on what the doctors might say afterwards.         

I’m very fortunate that my nearest hospital is quite close to home and I’m able to easily walk there, with a short cut through a beautiful park.   So to keep myself calm and dial down the anxiety, I stopped off in the park for a few mindful moments to take in the gorgeousness of the sunny October morning and the changing colours of the leaves.

As it turns out the procedure itself was fine, when I explained that swallowing food is difficult, they said they would give me maximum sedation.        I can remember the nurse giving me the throat spray to numb my throat and commenting that some say it tastes like bananas  and me saying “Oh it really does!” and then the mouth guard being popped in and that’s that.  

Top marks to the amazing endoscopy team,  they were all fabulous  and really looked after me.  I woke up in recovery with no recollection of the procedure and a very friendly nurse telling me it was time to go and have a chat with the doctor.    

And straight away, no faffing about, he said “Its’ not good news I’m afraid, we found a tumour half way down your oesophagus.   We’ve taken lots of biopsies, but from what we’ve seen it’s malignant and we’re arranging for you to have a CT scan today to check your chest, abdomen and pelvis.”     And before I know it, I’m being introduced to my specialist clinical nurse, having bloods taken and settling in to wait for further tests, with a follow up appointment booked for 10 days later to discuss the results of the biopsies, CT scan and treatment plan.

To say it was all a bit of a shock is the understatement of the century!   The next 9 days passed in a blur of trying to stay off google, letting everyone know my news and trying not to panic. 

I’ll share a little more about how I coped with telling others and waiting for results in another post soon and add a link here when it’s up!

“Results day” turned out to be another gorgeous sunny day.   So once again, I walked through the park on my way to meet my family in the coffee shop at the hospital.

It felt kind of weird, knowing I was possibly going to be discussing a potential “sell by/best before date” scenario when all around me was beautiful blue sky and the gorgeous colours of autumn.     It just felt like an utterly glorious day to be alive as I walked through the  park !   

And I don’t know why, but I am taking some solace and some hope that although the results weren’t quite as positive as I would have liked, the fact they were delivered on a beautiful sunny day in October somehow makes things a little better.

Personally, I don’t think we should be allowed to develop tumours in places that are hard to spell – “Oesophageal cancer” isn’t one of those words that trips off the tongue and it’s pretty impossible to remember how to spell, but here we are!  

So now I’m waiting for an initial meeting with the oncologist and a treatment plan for chemotherapy.   And I’m hoping that it will be yet another gloriously sunny day when I finally start my first chemo session.