Archives For Miss Byrom

The 12th of March.

Today has been quite productive, I suppose.

This morning, I was off to the Women’s Hospital to see Miss Byrom in Colposcopy clinic. They were running late, as usual, so I got my book out. I was able to get a good chunk read, but then three girls came in together (I think only one was a patient) and sat by me, and the constant chatter and commentary were too distracting for me to absorb any more properly. I got called through about 40 minutes after my appointment time, and we had a bit of a chat before I had to get in the stirrups. I felt what we did in January was successful, and it seems that way as she was able to get the small speculum in and open it a bit, and last time she couldn’t do anything. So I am to continue with the dilators and she’s going to write to Mr. Titley to see what he’s doing.

I got a call from one of the pain team (after I rang again this morning) and I finally have a date for steroid injections – 23rd April. It’s ages away but at least it’s there. And the GP is sorting out antibiotics pre and post jab.

After lunch, two more episodes of Jessica Jones and the assembly of the last spaniel. Next: a jumper!

The 13th of March.

Think this will be a quick one. Quiet day – I have been nowhere and done very little.

This morning, I wrote up a blog post, then while Mommy took Grandma for an eye test (it sounds like she’s chosen some rather jazzy frames), I watched the last episode of Jessica Jones. SPOILERS: Does Trish have the superpower of quick reflexes now? A) That’s a shit superpower and B) This is not going to end well. I’m kind of mad that she’s got them, she doesn’t deserve superpowers.

Then I had a delivery of my wool for my jumpers and a pair of socks, and they are what I’m going to do first.

We had lunch, then I got started on the socks while we watched last night’s Criminal Minds.

I’ve just realised that I didn’t write anything on Thursday, so my dates and days are out of sync – all I can remember is that Thursday is when we got Mommy’s new phone – she now finally has an iPhone!

Anyway. Rest of my afternoon was hairwash, iZombie and crochet. Now I need to sort out my blog! Stupid dates.

The 10th of March.

Ugh. I went back on the computer today to try to get iCloud photos synced across all my devices. Now my back hurts a lot and I have been only partially successful.

The morning was not so bad. I sorted out all the duplicates that were left, and got the phone and the iPad talking to each other. However, the iMac didn’t seem to want to cooperate, and instead thought it needed to update 10,900 photos. It was an empty library, so I don’t know where it got them from. I restarted the computer and repaired the library (I can’t remember in which order) and something wished because then it was empty.

I came downstairs and had lunch, and I picked up the stupid DHL parcel because I got a text about it. So at least Mother’s Day will not be ruined by stupid deliveries.

Back at the grindstone, I tried a lot of different things, but the photos app just isn’t getting involved. So I left it uploading photos from 2017 and 2018 to Dropbox so they’re at least vaguely accessible from my phone and I wrapped Mommy’s presents and wrote her card.

My back was in severe need of rest and support, so I went to sit with Mac and watch more Jessica Jones. He goes tomorrow! Sigh.

The 11th of March.

I am excessively tired today. I didn’t sleep that badly, or get up super early. I’ve had a second coffee, but I just want to curl up and go to sleep. But it isn’t bedtime yet and napping is not a skill I possess.

When I got up, Mommy and Daddy were out taking Grandma to church, so she got her presents upon their return. I gave her a teatowel with a bunny in a doughnut on, and a Moominmamma apron to go with the spatula Christine wrapped and left under my pillow last weekend. Accidentally very domestic. But she liked them.

Ryan and Bethany came at about half eleven to take Mac home. He was full of beans, bounding about and walking all over the paperwork. However, we got it done, and managed to bundle him into the carrier. I am certain he mewed all the way there. I am waiting to find out what they decide to call him so I can register his chip.

This afternoon, I’ve been making the second spaniel. The ears are such an arse to do, because they require loop stitch. Won’t be making any things with that for a while.

The 9th of January.

Well it’s been a curious day. I had to get up at quarter past five to ensure I had time to drink a litre of water before 6am, from which I had to be nil by mouth.

We arrived at about quarter to seven, and had to wait outside the Short Stay Wellcome Unit until someone let us and the two nurses without working passes in. Then we sat in the waiting room and watched Good Morning Britain until someone came to take me to my bedspace.

I was in the corner of the room – it used to be the ICU when it was the main hospital, so the bedspaces are massive and it means I am not crammed next to loads of people. I have been here before but we can’t remember what on earth for.

Mr. Titley came to see me, and he ran through once again what was going to happen. Examination under anaesthetic, possibly biopsy, possibly smear, possibly photographs. In the end, none of those things happened, just the exam. I signed the consent form, and off he went. Then I met with the anaesthetist, Dr. Allan, who was very nice, as all anaesthetists are. We talked about why he didn’t want to knock me out – same as Dr. Thompson, in that I’d end up stuck in ICU and if they ever did wake me up, my lungs would be in worse shape than they were going in which we can’t have. He had to talk me through all the risks of epidurals and regional blocks etc, which I was happy to take, then he went away and I finished being admitted by the nurse.

Miss Byrom wasn’t expected to arrive until about ten, so I didn’t get changed until twenty to, and I’d not been ready long when a porter came to get me so my timing was impeccable. I started off in the little anaesthetic room, where the trainee anaesthetist got stuck up against a valve in my wrist, so Dr. Allan had to stick the cannula in halfway up my forearm. I needed it so they could give me a bit of antibiotics and fluid so there was a balance against the spinal injection when he did it. When it came to that time, I had to sit with my legs over the edge of the bed, and hunch over my pillow on my lap. I got sprayed with super cold cleaning spray all over my back, then there was a small amount of local which felt the same as always, and then he did the regional block injection which I didn’t feel at all. All I noticed was a spreading feeling of warmth from my bum downwards, which was sort of nice but also disarming. I could move my legs to get them back on the bed, then I had to wait for them to get heavy before we could do anything more. I didn’t expect the sensation to be so acute – despite my brain knowing that I have the muscle strength to move my legs, I physically could not lift them, not even using my arms. It is absolutely bizarre.

At that point, we could move through to theatre, where my legs were put in the stirrups, and nine strangers got to see my vagina. That was interesting, because I could see them being flopped about into different positions, but I had no feeling at all; it was like they were broken, like they belonged to someone else. Then my vagina got sprayed with the cold spray to test if I could feel anything, which I could not, so they were able to begin. As far as I could tell, Miss Byrom tore through the adhesions again, then there was just a lot of shoving – I was aware of pressure, but no pain. It is entirely scarred, so no biopsy would tell us anything, and Mr. Titley cannot do any surgery to help. It took them about 20 minutes of shoving and looking to decide this, then some packing and a catheter were put in, and they started discussing what might be done next. It sounds like I’m going to end up with some kind of custom made silicone dilator but we will have to see. Emails must be sent.

Once covered up, I was taken to recovery, where I got a hot blanket which was so beautifully toasty, and we waited for my theatre notes so I could come back to the ward. And here I have sat since twelve, waiting for the anaesthetic to wear off and the catheter to come out. I have had coffee and a panini, and can move my legs independently again, which is nice. It still feels like I am sitting on a cushion of jelly, five hours later, but the catheter is out and I’m hoping to be able to pee in the next half an hour so I can then go home.

For all the NHS crisis talk, you wouldn’t know it here. I have been taken care of wonderfully, they are showing no signs of stress and I haven’t got angry at anyone.

The 10th of January.

I was woken up by Mommy telling me she had to go to Grandma’s because she was being taken into hospital. The cough she seemed to be incubating has definitely matured into a nasty chest infection and as the day has gone on, she has had tests and been admitted to have IV steroids and antibiotics while being on 5 litres of oxygen. That’s more than I was using even when my lung collapsed so she is really quite unwell. Apparently the doctor was not exactly optimistic.

My day has been a pretty quiet one, as one would expect the day after surgery. I was supposed to be going to a clinic at St. Giles but I cancelled that – I’m not sure how productive it would have been, and we’ve agreed I’ll reschedule once I’ve had my fancy MRI.

I had a couple of other phone calls; one with Adam from Black Sheep about my hair colour, one with the eye department at the QE to sort out an appointment, one with Lucy from Anthony Nolan to discuss press for Still Standing, and one with a lady who is going to come and view the kittens on Friday.

Speaking of them, I watched some more of Big Little Lies with them asleep in my arms. I’m almost reluctant to allow their adoption!

The 7th of May.

The eyes are less sleepy today, and that is welcome, but what is less so is that it has been painful to have my left eye open since I woke up, no matter how many eye drops I put in.

It’s been a day of mainly blog admin, so a short entry today. This morning, I wrote about yesterday while watching Sunday Brunch, occasionally muting it when Pixie Lott was on (I’m sorry but I just can’t stand her).

After lunch, I finished typing up the six blog posts, and they are scheduled to be published over the next several hours. While I did this, I watched four more episodes of 13 Reasons Why. Now I have four left, and I don’t know if I can be arsed to watch them or if I’ll just read what happens. I want to know, but the show is kind of a drag.

I have been thinking more about my arm. Of course I have, I think about it all the time. I wonder if we are being somewhat narrow-minded about the cause? Is there anything else that could be the reason behind the swelling? The only thing I can come up with is lymphedema, but if it is that, surely the compression garment would be having some kind of effect? None of it makes any sense.

The 8th of May.

I am desperate to have a nap again and my level of pain is still the same. Probably going to have to double the pregablin I think, so I will get even sleepier. But maybe that will wear off and the pain will get better.

The only interesting thing that happened today was that I had my appointment with Mr. Titley, the plastic surgeon that Miss Byrom had written to about me. First of all, I had to tell him my entire history, and there’s so many things to remember now. I’m going to have to write down exactly what I have been through and when in a relatively concise format. I almost forgot about the venoplasties, despite my arm being literally right in front of me.

Anyway. We then moved on to why I was actually there. I ran through my history with the Women’s and Miss Byrom and what we have been through so far. He talked to me about what he has done for Miss Byrom before, which is not like what I will probably need, so I may well need some kind of bespoke procedure. Typical of me. However, he can’t offer me any particular treatment until he knows exactly what he is dealing with, so I will need to be examined under general anaesthetic. He needs to talk to his anaesthetist who will need to talk to Dr. Thompson, then I’ll probably get a date for another ambulatory care day.

He asked what I’d like to get out of this, and frankly I just want one part of my body to do its fucking job like it used to. If someone were mad enough to want to date me, I don’t want yet another reason to put them off. Considering the fact that most men ask if I can still have sex when they find out about my disability, I’d like saying yes to not become a lie.