I had my sutures removed this morning and the Mad Professor reviewed the surgeon's handiwork. Apparently the wound has sealed already, the Mad Professor was very impressed with my powers of self-healing. Just a few more days of dressings and then it's done with.
Apart from waiting to see if the scar will need plastic surgery.
And if histology on the cyst found anything.
Oh, and waiting for the quite astonishing amount of bruising (yes, I inspected my poor, put-upon b00bie as soon as the sutures came out) to fade.
But all that aside - it's out, it's healed, it's done.
Hoorah!
Monday, 18 January 2010
Thursday, 14 January 2010
sliced and diced
After a pain-filled but otherwise dull few days on the boobie front, I went in for the excision this morning. I had already been prescribed c0deine yesterday and I popped a dose before leaving for the hospital so was in a fairly dreamy state when we got there.
I was rudely awakened from the dream by the injecting of the local anaesthetic. It went in at six places around the cyst and each time the pain was eye-watering. And then out came the scalpel and I found that local anaesthetic doesn't deaden the pain, it merely gives it a clip round the ear. It hurt so much I almost fainted, even though I was already lying down. And, to my deep shame, I cried.
"You're doing very well," Lovely (pregnant) Surgeon said, but when you are clenching your fist so tight you leave nail marks in your palm, and you have tears streaming out of your eyes and into your hair, you think she's probably lying.
After what seemed like an hour but was actually only about 5 minutes, the cyst was out and floating around in a pot of preservative. It is going off for histology and in the meanwhile I am lying in bed, my darling little cat at my side and c0deine is my new best friend.
I was rudely awakened from the dream by the injecting of the local anaesthetic. It went in at six places around the cyst and each time the pain was eye-watering. And then out came the scalpel and I found that local anaesthetic doesn't deaden the pain, it merely gives it a clip round the ear. It hurt so much I almost fainted, even though I was already lying down. And, to my deep shame, I cried.
"You're doing very well," Lovely (pregnant) Surgeon said, but when you are clenching your fist so tight you leave nail marks in your palm, and you have tears streaming out of your eyes and into your hair, you think she's probably lying.
After what seemed like an hour but was actually only about 5 minutes, the cyst was out and floating around in a pot of preservative. It is going off for histology and in the meanwhile I am lying in bed, my darling little cat at my side and c0deine is my new best friend.
Monday, 11 January 2010
a little culture
Well gunky microscopy came back negative at the end of last week but gunky culture came back positive this morning. It's positive for a certain kind of anaerobic bacteria which 90% of the time is simply an infection of the bloodstream. Ten percent of the time it can be indicative of something that might need more treatment.
So the Mad Professor has changed my antibiotics and wants to run a host of blood tests at the end of the week, just to make sure that my liver isn't playing silly buggers and then it's just a matter of waiting for the appointment with the surgeon to come through.
I'm not really that worried about anything sinister going on, but I will admit to being a little bit fed up with it all.
So the Mad Professor has changed my antibiotics and wants to run a host of blood tests at the end of the week, just to make sure that my liver isn't playing silly buggers and then it's just a matter of waiting for the appointment with the surgeon to come through.
I'm not really that worried about anything sinister going on, but I will admit to being a little bit fed up with it all.
Sunday, 10 January 2010
ripping off the plaster
I'm generally a "rip the plaster off quickly" type of gal but that doesn't work so well when said plaster is actually a wound dressing the size of one's hand, stuck to the underside of one's boob. In order to change the dressing I have to hold up my breast with one hand (hey, I'm 41 and losing elasticity), unstick the dressing with the other hand and hold down the skin it's being ripped from with a third hand. So straight away you see the problem?
On the first morning I asked Significant Other for help. He very nearly touched the pad under the dressing, ran swearing to the bathroom where he washed his hands under scalding hot water for five minutes and then applied about half a little plastic bottle of antiseptic gel because "we don't know what you've got and I might have got some on me". Charming though this display of concern for my wellbeing was, I felt it best to carry on unaided... I now have the process down to a fine art where I dispense with holding down the skin and simply rip - but I have added swearing long and loud and this seems to help.
Microscopy came back negative (yay), but it means that we don't know what the whole lump thing is all about (meh) so the Mad Professor has decided better out than in and has referred me to a surgeon (eek).
And the UK is still under a blanket of snow. Isn't this an amazing picture?
On the first morning I asked Significant Other for help. He very nearly touched the pad under the dressing, ran swearing to the bathroom where he washed his hands under scalding hot water for five minutes and then applied about half a little plastic bottle of antiseptic gel because "we don't know what you've got and I might have got some on me". Charming though this display of concern for my wellbeing was, I felt it best to carry on unaided... I now have the process down to a fine art where I dispense with holding down the skin and simply rip - but I have added swearing long and loud and this seems to help.
Microscopy came back negative (yay), but it means that we don't know what the whole lump thing is all about (meh) so the Mad Professor has decided better out than in and has referred me to a surgeon (eek).
And the UK is still under a blanket of snow. Isn't this an amazing picture?
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
ouch, ouch, ouch
FNA this afternoon and despite the gentle touch of the Mad Professor - IT HURTS!
You know that you were right to seek a medical opinion when said medical opinion mutters "oh my" at the re-vol-ting stuff that comes out of the lump in your right boob. The Mad Professor kindly offered to show me the syringe afterwards and, accustomed though I am to yucky fluids in my day-to-day working life, it's different when looking at something that has just been syphoned from your own body.
Anyway, I was patched up and sent out into the snow and a vial of vile has been sent to the lab for analysis. Now all I have to do is change the dressing each morning, not throw up the antibiotics and try to remember that I can't stretch my right arm out before I stretch my right arm out...
And in the meanwhile - this is the view from the kitchen window.
You know that you were right to seek a medical opinion when said medical opinion mutters "oh my" at the re-vol-ting stuff that comes out of the lump in your right boob. The Mad Professor kindly offered to show me the syringe afterwards and, accustomed though I am to yucky fluids in my day-to-day working life, it's different when looking at something that has just been syphoned from your own body.
Anyway, I was patched up and sent out into the snow and a vial of vile has been sent to the lab for analysis. Now all I have to do is change the dressing each morning, not throw up the antibiotics and try to remember that I can't stretch my right arm out before I stretch my right arm out...
And in the meanwhile - this is the view from the kitchen window.
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
out of the closet
It was my first day back at work today, after three weeks off due to the whole chest infection / miscarriage / Christmas-and-New-Year extravaganza. It wasn't easy going back; it never is anyway after time off but after (yet another) miscarriage, it was even more difficult. It was also physically difficult as in my absence there had been a landslide of patients' notes, and I could barely open the door to my office, and once I did, I had to excavate my way to my desk.
And, of course, I had to answer the usual "did you have a good Christmas" questions. But something happened and instead of smiling and nodding and saying "lovely, thank you" I found myself saying "I had a miscarriage". My words flew up, if you will :-) Of course everyone was lovely and sympathetic but it did make people wonder how on earth to get out of the room and the conversation gracefully. I have NO idea what made me say it the first time, I really don't. Perhaps because I'm still so sad. Or because I just don't have enough energy to pretend that everything is okay. Whatever the reason, I climbed out of the miscarriage closet at work and have found myself face-to-face with the elephant in the room.
In other news, I saw the Mad Professor about the lump under my breast this afternoon. I couldn't get to see my GP between Christmas and New Year and during the intervening days the lump has grown and is now visible from space. The Mad Professor is going to do an FNA (fine needle aspiration) tomorrow afternoon. Bless his heart, he's told me to go along to his clinic before his session starts, so effectively during his lunch break. He told me that he was going to insert a thin needle into the middle of the lump to aspirate it and that he couldn't use any anaesthetic and so it might be "a bit uncomfortable" and asked if I am okay with needles. I didn't want to tell him that I consider needles to be my friends in case that sounded, I don't know, insane, so I just reassured him that I would be fine...
And, of course, I had to answer the usual "did you have a good Christmas" questions. But something happened and instead of smiling and nodding and saying "lovely, thank you" I found myself saying "I had a miscarriage". My words flew up, if you will :-) Of course everyone was lovely and sympathetic but it did make people wonder how on earth to get out of the room and the conversation gracefully. I have NO idea what made me say it the first time, I really don't. Perhaps because I'm still so sad. Or because I just don't have enough energy to pretend that everything is okay. Whatever the reason, I climbed out of the miscarriage closet at work and have found myself face-to-face with the elephant in the room.
In other news, I saw the Mad Professor about the lump under my breast this afternoon. I couldn't get to see my GP between Christmas and New Year and during the intervening days the lump has grown and is now visible from space. The Mad Professor is going to do an FNA (fine needle aspiration) tomorrow afternoon. Bless his heart, he's told me to go along to his clinic before his session starts, so effectively during his lunch break. He told me that he was going to insert a thin needle into the middle of the lump to aspirate it and that he couldn't use any anaesthetic and so it might be "a bit uncomfortable" and asked if I am okay with needles. I didn't want to tell him that I consider needles to be my friends in case that sounded, I don't know, insane, so I just reassured him that I would be fine...
Monday, 4 January 2010
a year in pictures
Happy New(ish) Year, everyone. Here's to 2010 bringing us all what we hope for.
As is often the case at this time of year, I've been reviewing the past 12 months. They've mostly been pants but instead of boring you and me to tears with lots of words, dear Interwebs, I thought I'd say it with pictures.
January
12 week scan and everything seemed fine with Bean.
February
We lost her on the 6th.
March
First a little break on the lovely island of Malta...
... and then we got back Significant Other proposed, only take it back when I said "yes".
April
I re-started on Metformin and spent pretty much the next 8 weeks sick.
May
We started on a Cl0mid-only regimen, Significant Other and I had a lot of conversations about what we would do if we never had children - and reached no conclusions.
June
We went on holiday to Sant0rini, a ridiculously beautiful Greek island. At this time we were trying the old-fashioned way (i.e Cl0mid and timed interc0urse but no trigger shot).
The week after we came back, Significant Other got food poisoning from a dodgy egg sandwich. He was fit again in 2 days but they were a horrible 2 days.
July
BFN from the "natural cycle", Bean's due date and a very grey and wet birthday stroll along the S0uth Bank, 4th IUI.
August
BFN from the 4th IUI, Significant Other's birthday and an abandoned IUI cycle due to a spectacular lack of follicles.
September
We tried to mentally prepare for IVF and again started, but didn't finish, a lot of conversations about what if I didn't get pregnant again.
October
Preparation cycle.
November
IVF - 2 embryos transferred.
December
Not quite BFPs but positives just the same. Low beta HCg, followed by an even lower level. Told to stop progesterone pessaries and wait for miscarriage (though technically it's called "early pregnancy loss" as it was before 6 weeks) to start, which it did the day before Christmas. We spent a miserable Christmas but then Signficant Other changed his mind at the very last moment about going to visit some friends and we had a brilliant time in the West Country for New Year.
And so here we are, 2010. I don't really have any expectations or high hopes for the coming year. I would just really rather like it if it's not as bad as the past two.
As is often the case at this time of year, I've been reviewing the past 12 months. They've mostly been pants but instead of boring you and me to tears with lots of words, dear Interwebs, I thought I'd say it with pictures.
January
12 week scan and everything seemed fine with Bean.
February
We lost her on the 6th.
March
First a little break on the lovely island of Malta...
... and then we got back Significant Other proposed, only take it back when I said "yes".
April
I re-started on Metformin and spent pretty much the next 8 weeks sick.
May
We started on a Cl0mid-only regimen, Significant Other and I had a lot of conversations about what we would do if we never had children - and reached no conclusions.
June
We went on holiday to Sant0rini, a ridiculously beautiful Greek island. At this time we were trying the old-fashioned way (i.e Cl0mid and timed interc0urse but no trigger shot).
The week after we came back, Significant Other got food poisoning from a dodgy egg sandwich. He was fit again in 2 days but they were a horrible 2 days.
July
BFN from the "natural cycle", Bean's due date and a very grey and wet birthday stroll along the S0uth Bank, 4th IUI.
August
BFN from the 4th IUI, Significant Other's birthday and an abandoned IUI cycle due to a spectacular lack of follicles.
September
We tried to mentally prepare for IVF and again started, but didn't finish, a lot of conversations about what if I didn't get pregnant again.
October
Preparation cycle.
November
IVF - 2 embryos transferred.
December
Not quite BFPs but positives just the same. Low beta HCg, followed by an even lower level. Told to stop progesterone pessaries and wait for miscarriage (though technically it's called "early pregnancy loss" as it was before 6 weeks) to start, which it did the day before Christmas. We spent a miserable Christmas but then Signficant Other changed his mind at the very last moment about going to visit some friends and we had a brilliant time in the West Country for New Year.
And so here we are, 2010. I don't really have any expectations or high hopes for the coming year. I would just really rather like it if it's not as bad as the past two.
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