I am, contrary to all online appearances, still alive. Where were we?

The Centre Parcs tropical waterworld was the crowning delight of Harry’s young heart. Never has ‘more’ been signed so enthusiastically than by a beaming toddler who has just zoomed gleefully down a long water flume that, in his mother’s AaaAAaarRGhhhH! startled opinion, was rather too scary and fast for small people. Rendered unfeasibly buoyant in his float-incorporated swimsuit and little water wings, he morphed into a confident water-baby, happily doggy-paddling several feet between crowing parents.

My two closest friends came to stay with us there for a couple of days and I cruised to great glory and triumph in the resulting Monopoly contest. I would not have bothered to mention this, were it not that the slightest reference to my victory makes my insanely competitive husband break down and cry inside.

It took me a week to tackle the holiday washing. Boo. Hiss. Etc.

I had a 1st of February laparoscopy date through, the day after I actually bestirred myself to obtain and send a copy of my New Cardiac Strangeness report to my consultant.

The aorta and IVC were noted to be transposed, so that the aorta lay to the right of the IVC. This arrangement is a congenital variant and appeared to continue throughout the abdomen, unlike the more commonly seen variation where the IVC crosses the aorta. Occasionally variations in IVC position may be related to abdominal pain, and certainly it would be necessary to make a surgeon aware of it, should the patient require abdominal surgery at any future date. A full assessment on ultrasound is limited and CT would probably be the best method of full assessment. You may also wish to consider a chest x-ray to see whether there is any cardiac anomaly present.

My consultant is on leave until the 1st, so as a direct result of my fannying about and not getting on with things, her secretary and I have been obliged to postpone my surgery until she is back. I’m pretty confident that my abdominal aorta has not managed to migrate the whole unlikely half-foot or so to the front of my uteri, so I don’t expect it’ll hold her scalpel off for long, unless she decides to bung me through a CT scanner first.

I am divided equally between nerves, avid curiosity and an impending sense of Doom. The sedation worries me not one jot, as does the thought of hosting uteri-cam, but I’m squeamish about my belly button, and the whole inflating-of-abdomen thing makes me mentally scuttle under a rock. I do not want post-operative shoulder pain, either. The prospect of abdominal pain I can deal with happily enough – I have a great number of metaphorical t-shirts formally proclaiming me a Big Girl in that respect – but I am a little nervous of making new friends. And, while I am admittedly ON FIRE to find out what my peculiar duo of uteri look like in, literally, the flesh – they’ve been hurting a fat lot more than usual lately. I am consequently darkly suspicious of quite how much adenomyosis I have managed to grow in the last couple of years, and feel even more broodingly about this deforming-uterine-walls-synechium thing I have also acquired.

In a clever bid to cheer myself up, although I was professedly supposed to be cheering her up, I hopped on the train to see May on Friday. It was a day out alloyed only by current circumstances for May, which could hardly be more miserable, and by my stupid, stuuuuuuupid attempt to leave London on a Friday afternoon, on a tight schedule, to get home for Harry’s bedtime. I should have consigned him from the outset to the sans-maternal bedtime experience he happily underwent in any case when I was inevitably delayed, and stayed stolidly and unashamedly where I was for several more hours; I was warm, comfy, nattering blissfully, oh-so-spectacularly very well-fed, having a truly lovely time – and H would have been home for dinner, had I stayed a little longer! Going early was the poorest decision I’ve made so far this year and I’ve kicked myself ever since. Bah, bollocks and bugger.

I also walked away the proud new owner of a simply beeeeoooooouuutiful scarf that May crocheted for me, for our crafty Pay It Forward. My wonky lavender sachet – which is all I have to show for the whole intervening 12 months since actually, you know, announcing it – wilted sadly in comparison to May’s fabulous and elegant woolly warmer. I will post photos tomorrow, as the camera is currently out of sight under the desk-compost. Robyn and Pam, you’re next on my construction list. Don’t hold your breath when your letter-box clatters.

I will tell you of another poor decision I have made, in the hope that you may avoid it yourself. Back in August, I asked you for your literary Top Male Totty: I had been sighing over the same well-thumbed characters for far too long. You responded joyously in spades (any more, anyone?); I purchased a number of new authors as a result and I have, so far, found your collective judgement absolutely impeccable. My mistake centred in delaying a proper tackle of QoB’s suggestion of Brust & Bull’s Freedom and Necessity for so long. I had to hastily scramble off the train back from May’s at Warwick, in comically undignified fashion, completely caught up in this beautifully written little historically-set gem. I could pick the odd hole in it if I had to, but I’m not sat in a classroom, and really, who the fuck cares because, Ladies? 

James Cobham is a guaranteed knicker-dropper.

My top five is scattered into total disarray – again. A good job I hadn’t laminated it yet, eh? This new lad’s going in somewhere high. Fnarr.

Do yourself a favour and beg, borrow or steal a copy. Sadly, there is no sequel to enjoy; it stands proudly – snigger – alone. It has also managed to largely distract me from the fact that I woke up Saturday morning with my tonsils resembling red golf balls and my chest, in addition to feeling sat-on by, say, a hefty-arsed pony, producing things I would prefer not to look at.

I am heading back to my pit of tangled duvet and throat sweets, clutching my copy protectively to my quivering bosom. I may be some time.


16 Responses

  1. I have to steal the phrase “guaranteed knicker-dropper” and use it to recommend this book in the future – that’ll make them sit up and pay attention!

    the history passed me by, as all I know about the Chartists I learned from that book, and Engels didn’t seem too far-fetched.

    I am so torn between really wanting someone to make a TV mini-series from F&N and really wanting it never to be ruined by visual media. Besides, who would play James…?

    • I just had to come back and say that I have been re-reading the book, and have been thinking the EXACT same thing! I’d buy the film rights in a trice, – awesome plot! – but I would be forced to sit on them until God created a James!

  2. Now I’m curious…I’ll have to read that one.

    Glad the water-park was a success. Hope your anatomical anomalies cause you no more trouble!

  3. Good to see you back.
    As to the lap – my scar is an imperceptible cm long faint line except when v.pregnant at which point belly buttons are universally gross. The upper shoulder pain was a total killer – insist on vast quantities of druggage.

  4. The lap thing is not so bad, I swear. I know it’s not the nicest thought, having a holey belly, but it’s completely worth it, you’ll feel SO much better after. Not instantly, but you will! And you’ll have pics of Cameron and Blair, who really need to be unveiled to you after all these years of secret living within.

    So no impending doom. No doom at all!

  5. Another word of reassurance for you. I’ve had a laparoscopy too and can confirm it’s a doddle. A tiny wee cut with only one stitch in it which hurt at the time if I pressed hard on it but otherwise caused no problems to me. I didn’t have any issue with the shoulder pain either, but was advised if I did to try a hot water bottle held against each shoulder. I was more affected by the general anaesthetic than by the actual procedure, so you’ll be just fine…

  6. I have no personal experience with laparoscopies, but I did nurse a friend through recovery after one (which is I think one of the reasons I found this part of the blogosphere, wow), so FWIW:
    her belly-button scar is totally unnoticeable unless you’re really really looking for it.
    The worst part of her recovery was nausea – it went on for about a week and in the end she had to get several IM injections from her GP to be able to eat again. It’s apparently a common side-effect of GA and especially for gynae surgeries – the uterus does not like to be disturbed. so it might be worth asking what the plans are for anti-nausea meds during recovery.

  7. You are an anatomical wonder aren’t you? I have had 3 laps and have run out belly button places to punch, I joke that eventually I will look like a clock! I can tell you that it is not so bad, the shoulder gas pain does seem to vary from procedure to procedure and can be is mitigated somewhat by walking as soon as possible after surgery, it allows the gas to be absorbed into the tissues, and not migrate up toward the highest point in the body, which ends up being by the shoulders. Heat does help, as does as antiinflammatory and narcotics and antinausea meds are essential. ( mostly due to nause caused by the other meds you got during surgery and caused by side effects of the pain meds, but still, much needed, who wants to throw up after abdominal surgery?)
    This was my experience anyway and what I practiced and used when I was working on the medical/ surgical floor, hope it helps.
    Another suggestion is to get these filled at your pre-op appointment if you can so that you don’t have to be running around trying to get them filled after surgery, ask your doc, I am sure that she will write your rx, especially considering that you have a small child at home.

  8. Shoulder pain? Who knew. And recommendation for a good book. As ever HFF, a highly educating read.

  9. Next time we will be properly organised and you will stay the night and we will get H to make us breakfast.

    I talk about my lap and hysteroscopy D&C (for polyps) quite, quite exhaustively in my July 2007 archives. Keep in mind that I had a D&C, and the sodding stitches got infected, before running screaming into the woods. Both will make you more sore than a mere lap. Despite the infection, my belly-button scar is quite… well… cute, really, tiny white line with a tiny white dot each side of it. I’ll show you if you like. There’s a similar tiny scar (in some laps they stick a camera in one hole and the ‘implements’ in another. Be warned) just above my *cough* lady-garden, but it was messed up by the gigantic pre-existing scar and its appearance doesn’t count. And anyway, I’m NOT offering to show it to you.

    The referred shoulder pain is an utter arse, and I was only comfortable flat on my back for several days. I agree this is Not Good for the mother of a lively toddler. Admittedly, not everyone gets it, and I did have it quite badly. Organize at least a week’s worth of toddler-wrangling. More if possible, because even when you’re ‘cleared’ for heavy lifting, your tummy will still protest.

    The lavender sachet is NOT wonky. It’s pretty and sassy and charming and cheers me up every time I go into my undie-drawer. I love it to bits. I must get H to photograph it, and then I can PROVE it.

    I must stay away from literary totty. I must I must I must. I have far too many books to read as it is, and how can I stay faithful to them with TOTTY calling to me? Gah. I feel a trip to amazon coming on. It’s all your fault.

  10. *Pushes rock to one side and looks around blankly. Notices operating computer in distance and staggers to chair.*

    You are going to make me something? With your very own hands? How did I miss this? I am beside myself with excitement and anticipation. And wonkiness is a feature of handmade items. It is only machines that churn out perfect specimens for hour after hour.

    No time for Totty Books sadly. Am reading multiple boring tomes in preparation for Big New Job starting next Monday. With a new computer. Really!

    But once I am on the hamster wheel of daily extended travel on the Big Choo Choo, I will be all up for Totty Books. It’s clearly safe to read on the train?

  11. PS. And a big Foxtrot Oscar to that throat thingy. Gon on Nasty Germs, bugger off and leave HFF alone.

  12. I wish you the best of non-shoulder pain luck with the lap.


  13. I promise I’ll go away now. As a fellow adenomyosis sufferer (Retired) I send you the very best of wishes for a straight forward pain free lap. I managed to avoid it…and I’m insisting the Universe deliver you the same result.

    xx R

  14. […] on the 25th with my Consultant – who has seen my exceedingly peculiar (ME? Quelle surprise!) cardiac report and, by the s0und of it, has officially Had Kittens and wants to See Me In […]

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