On 23rd November, I go in to hospital and down to theatre for the first time since last year when I suffered my horrific NHS fuck up and nearly died.
This will be the 4th time my life is in someone else’s hands in just over a year.
This time is meant to be for treatment, but I can’t help but fixate on everything that could and as history has proven will – go wrong.
I am only meant to be in the hospital for half a day, where I will be taken down to theatre and I will have numerous injection in to my stomach area and round to my hips.
The injection will be a mix of aneshetic and steriods and my doctor has already told me they will really painful. I’m not worried about the pain, I can deal with pain, I just hope they work and are worth it. The idea of them (in the most basic way I can describe) is that they will numb the nerves or sort of kill them off, and therefore significantly reducing the pain which I find myself in daily.
There is always the risk that the injections won’t work – and we will have to another treatment for me to try.
I hope it does work, and I can start getting my life back on track, but I can’t help but worry.
I am finding it really hard to verbalise my feelings on this subject, which is odd, because as anyone who has ever read my blog before will know that I have an opinion on everything.
Perhaps my struggle is due to the fact that I don’t want to get my hopes up again and have them dashed. Maybe it is also because if it can go wrong it always does for me. The idea that I could end up worse off again is petrifying. But so is the idea that I will be like this forever.
I will have to have these injections for the rest of my life if they work, that is ok, I am trying to come to terms with the fact that this is life now, but I don’t know where it leaves me in terms of my future.
I have been trying to make plans for the future, I’ve been saying to Harry “After my treatment I can get a job and we can buy our house…” and all these other things, but at the back on my mind I feel like I am lying to him, giving him false hope. What if it doesn’t work and I’ve told him I will do all this.
I just don’t know. I suppose we will see what happens in 35 days.