Biopsy day and preliminary results...

(First Published May 5th 2024)

May the 4th be with you…

Yesterday was both Star Wars day plus the day I finally had the biopsy on the mass in my urethra under general anaesthetic. Was the force with me? We’ll never know but it was both a bad day and a good day and, as I write this (still feeling groggy from the anaesthetic plus with a certain amount of discomfort down below,) I feel in a much better place mentally than I did last week. Even though I was told it is highly likely that I have cancer and I will probably be fast tracked for further surgery.

My day started early. I was due in the Ansty ward at the Princess Royal Hospital at 7.30am so naturally woke at about 4.30am (quite the norm these days.) We live semi rurally so at this time of year the dawn chorus is really something to behold. This can either be a blessing or a curse depending on your state of mind. It has been improved for me by my Mother in Law who, amongst her messages of support, has recommended the Merlin bird app. This app recognises and identifies birdsong so I am able to lie in bed, press the record button and instantly recognise what is keeping me awake outside. This morning’s surprise was a Firecrest which I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen before.

It’s not too long before I’m all checked in and am gowned up with my support stockings on. There are three of us in for surgery this morning and it turns out I am last in the queue so there will be a bit of a wait. I get to meet both the Surgeon plus the Anaesthetist and it is a comfort to put my concerns to both of them.

Much of my fear and anxiety for the upcoming procedure is due to my previous experience of an operation under general anaesthetic. My Radical Cystectomy in 2019 was a completely different beast to today's procedure but didn’t end as I hoped or expected. I awoke on the operating table in a huge amount of pain, not in the recovery room as was expected, and spent the next three days in a lot of pain and with high levels of anxiety. This is far removed from most accounts I read from people coming out of surgery in a lovely morphine induced haze.

My concerns are listened to and I’m assured that I will be taken care of. The Anaesthetist wonders if I may be suffering with PTSD as a result but I think that is highly unlikely. It may well be a memory that will always live with me but it doesn’t affect my everyday living.

I while away a few hours with a bit of Sudoku plus enjoying the fabulous views out to the South Downs (lucky me got a bed by the window!) I decide to plug into one of my two litre night bags which I thought would be sensible to bring along with me. I was told I would have about a litre of fluids pumped into me during the operation so don’t want anyone having to be concerned about emptying my bag which is only good for about 300ml. 

Two porters finally come for me at 11.45am and wheel me to my fate. I am hardly nervous at all now and just keen to come out the other side.

An hour or so later I wake up in a fabulous morphine induced haze. It’s bloody fantastic. Any old fears have been washed away and I’m a happy bunny. After a pleasant few minutes I’m wheeled back to the ward and the Surgeon comes to explain where things stand.

He was happy with the procedure. In his experience he believes it to be cancer but the lab results will confirm this. The tumour was about half way down the urethra which is a far better place for it to be than right at the far end. He couldn’t feel it protruding outside of the urethra so is confident that removing the urethra could be the end of the matter and shouldn’t require either chemotherapy or radiotherapy. He is going to e-mail the Consultant Urologist that performed my RC back in 2019 recommending a Urethrectomy as soon as possible (refer back to previous blogs discussing hedge trimmers…)  Obviously, next week's C.T. scan should detect if there has been any spread in which case plans will be made accordingly but I’m going to endeavour not to worry about things that are yet to happen.

An hour or so later I’m allowed home feeling slightly groggy and uncomfortable but reasonably happy with the day's events.

So that was my Star Wars Day. As I sit here 20 hours later with sanitary towels in my boxer shorts not feeling physically at my perkiest, deep down I feel better. My fear of surgery has gone and I feel I am back in the hands of the experts. It took a bit of a push to get here but here I am. 

Is it weird to feel better following a cancer diagnosis? Possibly, but this was always going to be about more than just the diagnosis.