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Last week I got news. It had a Big C in it. I remember the specialists mouth moving but my brain had flitted off into the stratosphere chasing that word that fills people’s minds with sadness, fear and regret- and then I laughed- like some crazy maniacal nutter and calmly but loudly said ‘I knew it, I bloody well knew it, my intuition was screaming something was off and I knew this was coming’.


My first blog post. I've introduced myself in a couple of forums, so I'll copy them into my blog to start back at the beginning.


Its been 10 days since the op, and I thought I would be well on the mend.  I felt so good on Saturday I even reduced the amount of pain killers.  However, I think I over did it on Sunday, and by Sunday night I was gasping for breath, and desperately swallowing pain killers.  I have found I am very teary, crying at the drop of a hat.


Hubby appears very stressed and does not talk to me much, or appears to always be yelling.  Its Monday now, and I have an appointment with my GP this arvo, need more


I thought I was being wheeled to theatre to get put to sleep and the op done. Instead I was wheeled into a room next to the theatre.  I remember two people working on me.  Putting in canulas, drips, needles, alsorts, kinda of like the pre theatre part.  Last thing I remember was a gas mask being put on and being told to count, next thing I was in recovery.


The surgeon had said that he would ring hubby as soon as he had finished the operation.  So since 3pm hubby, mam and dad are in the lobby of


I was to have an early breakfast of toast and tea at 6am. The fast after that, however I could stilll have water or apple juice up to 9am.


I was getting worried about my breakfast arriving on time, it came at 6.10an so I gulped it down, however, I dont think a few minutes would of made any difference.


I had showered using the antiseptic wash last night, and I was to do it again this morning before the op.  So i figured I would have a late shower and sit in bed and read magazines.  Hubby was comi

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