I'm pissed off with lemonade..!

(First Published August 10th 2022)

Thursday August 5th 2019:  This is the day I was diagnosed with Carcinoma in Situ of the bladder. Bladder Cancer to be more direct. 3 years ago! What a crazy 3 years it has been. I have documented my ‘Cancer journey’ through previous blogs (still available for those interested) but we have also had the downfall of Trump, the downfall of Johnson (a similar tale,) war in Europe, Covid, Monkeypox, all the benefits of Brexit plus global warming in real time. 

Friday 5th August 2022 was a good day for reflection. My recovery has been good. I have been back to working full time since Covid allowed and am very aware of both my strengths plus my limitations. I have had to make several changes along the way but have taken them all in my stride and have embraced the new normal.

Saturday 6th August 2022: Three years and 1 day since I was diagnosed with Bladder Cancer I wake up to find blood dripping from the end of my penis. Shit! I mean, really…shit!

The surgery I had to remove my bladder also removed my prostate gland and part of my urethra. The end was sealed up meaning that no significant bodily fluids pass through this, once busy, tube. I have had regular six monthly cystoscopies (camera inserted into the end of the penis…ouch) and yearly C.T. scans and to date all has been well. I am at the six month point and due another camera check. My mind is screaming that this can only be a tumour. Why else would there be blood? 

I know what I need. I need and want a flexible cystoscopy now! (That’s a phrase you don’t hear everyday!) I phoned the Hospital only to find that the Urology department is not open at the weekend. I explain my predicament to the poor lady at the end of the phone and she can only suggest I come down to A & E. I don’t go. I’m not going to sit and wait for 8 hours only to be told that I need to book a flexible cystoscopy, plus I’m catering for a Wedding later that afternoon so it looks as though I’ll have to wait until Monday. 

Monday came and went with several phone calls bouncing backwards and forwards with no satisfactory conclusion but finally today, Tuesday I have got an appointment for the much anticipated Camera next Monday afternoon.

So where does that leave me? What happens to the mind of someone that has been through Cancer, been clear of Cancer for over two and a half years and then discovers that the Cancer has been hiding in the wings all this time just waiting to have another go (maybe…?)

If my worst fears are realised there are various treatment options available (at this point it must be remembered that I haven't even seen a Doctor yet so I may be talking gibberish but… it's my blog so I'll continue.) The tumour could be removed under general anesthetic via an invasive procedure. Chemotherapy and/or radiotherapy could be used. Finally, and this is the one I had really hoped to avoid, a urethrectomy could be performed. This involves taking a scalpel to the most delicate part of your anatomy, making a large incision, removing the remaining urethra and stitching up the cut. Why not just stick a hedge trimmer between my legs and be done with it.

I should probably stop there. I am getting well ahead of myself and all this speculation is probably not healthy. But that's where my head is currently. I am angry, I am pissed off, really pissed off and I am sad. Sad that those close to me have to jump back onto the emotional rollercoaster again when all they really need is some rest. I am angry that should I require more time off work I'll have to jump through hoops to try and get a paltry £99 a week statutory sick pay. Following my first operation I was off work for 3 months and received £94 per week. This Country has one of the lowest levels of sick pay throughout Europe. The Covid lockdowns were very hard on the Hospitality industry. I had bits of work to tide me over but there was certainly no sitting at home in the sunshine claiming £2500 a month through the furlough scheme. My tax returns showed my lowest income for nearly 20 years. As a result we got tax credits to support the children. This April HMRC decided that they'd overpayed us to the tune of £3000 and they wanted it back (no one likes a benefit scrounger!) They can have it back. At £25 a month for the next 10 years. This Summer has been good. I've had plenty of well paid, varied and enjoyable work, and then I got Covid for the first time and was off for 10 days. No pay. And now this. It feels like 2 steps forward and 3 steps back. I keep being thrown lemons and I'm getting sick of lemonade.

That's enough for now. Having had a quick read back that was certainly a bit more 'ranty' than previous blogs but there we go. I was always going to try and be honest. 

Hopefully,  Monday's investigations will show there to be nothing untoward going on in which case my next blog will be extremely short.

To be continued…