Up to the Big OP

UP TO THE OPERATION

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  End of 2000 became ill.  Started to live in the bathroom and although the decor was rather pleasant it was not done for this alone.
  
  
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  Visit to my doctor followed 2hrs later by X-Ray followed by doctor 1 hour later followed by appointment with consultant 2 days later.  You may not appreciate them devouring the legs of small frogs but they sure as hell get this right in France.  Really nice guy who talked about ganglions and polyps (in French) and lots of other non cancer like things.  Seemed pretty relieved when I asked him about the bloody great tumour I had seen on the X-Ray.
  
  
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  As I mentioned I then had tests.  A lot of tests. And then some more.  The probes and cameras inserted into pretty private places were not too bad.  It was the camera crews, soundmen and extras I didn't like

This is a bit out of context but it has been bothering me. WHY THEY HELL DO HOSPITAL GOWNS FASTEN AT THE BACK? As you are presumably there because you are not exactly feeling 100%, why do they think you can fasten several tie strings behind your back?  I think they must have CCTV in the changing rooms and sit there howling with laughter as a 17 stone steel worker (that's not me - I don't work in steel) struggles to get into a size 8 mini dress which has 7 unaligned strings to tie.  They then struggle to examine/operate on you because most stuff involves working on you from the front.  I want an answer.

• Diagnosed cancer of the colon.  Large tumour which was unfortunately very low and therefore difficult to treat.  Proposal was to treat pre operatively with chemo and radio for several months and then start cutting.  This was to involve a temporary colostomy for a few weeks (turned out to be illeostomy for 8 months) while the bits rejoined themselves.  My social calendar at the time was looking pretty thin so this didn't seem the sort of party I should miss.  I was a tad annoyed because swimming would be out for the summer.  The surgeon assured me (and how French is this?) that I would still be able to drink wine.  My wife Kim, tried to put on a brave face but was hit pretty hard and the rest of my family must have used a Star Trek transporter to get to me so fast.  I merrily went on thinking that soon the reality of this would hit me and I wouldn't be able to handle it.  This was before I knew about the other me.
  
• Radio and Chemo was a breeze as already discussed.  A bit inconvenient because they refused to replace the bottle of 5FU (chemo) with malt whisky on my occasional days off but there's more than one way to skin a cat.
  
• I must at this point mention my very good friend Colin.  I think he was partially responsible for the development of the second me.  As I was completely open about everything that was happening - so was he.  During this time we discussed and laughed about  (often to the absolute horror of his wife Chris), the in and outs of cancer,illness, dying and more importantly to him, how he would keep his PC running when I was pushing up daisies.  My advice to anyone with cancer is to find someone like this.  Your close family are so deeply affected on a practical and emotional level that an outside influence (even if like Colin they happen to be close to the Devil Incarnate) is important.  If you think you can benefit from my approach to cancer, find someone who makes you laugh.  Colin is the funniest man I have ever met. 
  
• Chopping time. Over 7 hours and 450 stitches and staples was enough to make even me wince.  I can't remember much for several days but know I was packed in ice (which Kim had got from the supermarket), sprayed with iced water and had a large powerful fan 2 feet from my head.  I do remember seeing my surgeon a few hours after the op and he looked like hell.  Sweating, sunken eyes and obviously completely shattered.  At least I had the on-demand morphine.  10 days of no food or drink carrying a drip around were not good for me.  I get bored and ratty as quickly as Gordon Brown waiting for the Hutton report, so I guess this is where the other me stepped in.  There is no way that I could handle pain and that level of boredom at the same time.  In retrospect the answer was simple.  Give it to someone else.  And I did.