A sad day.

Recently we have had to lose one of our family pets.  The experience was obviously very sad but strangely it triggered some old memories.

Over the last 11 years Ill obviously have many fond memories, however, thinking of Missy reminded  one of the biggest days of my life…..returning home from hospital.

I have not really written a blog about my hospital experience.  I have only been writing for about a year and the op was 8 years ago and a distant memory.

As I am sure I have hinted my experience after my diagnosis was a bit of a blur!  I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitus (an IBD) and then a few weeks later told I also had bowel cancer and needed a major operation.

I actually remember the day well.  It was February and in true to British weather it hadn’t snowed in Dec or Jan but start Feb we had a fair amount of snow.  Looking back I should’ve known something was up.  I received a letter from the NHS informing me I had an appointment for the following day.  Up until this stage I had had little experience with the NHS so thought nothing of this short notice reply.

My appointment was for early the next day.  I was so naïve that myself and Carley drove in separate cars.  I expected the appointment to be quick and then id be off to work.  I was suited and booted ready for a day in the office.  The next clue was due to the adverse weather the consultant was running late.  The nurses were personally coming over to me and apologising for the dealy and giving me regular updates on his progress.  After 8 years of appointments I  know this is not normal!  On reflection they weren’t updating anyone else in the waiting room, ignorance is bliss huh!

I remember very little about the appointment.  I remember laughing hysterically between the tears once I was told I had Cancer.  I recall a brief drawing explain where the tumour was and what type of operation I would need.  I remember being taken by the Colorectal Nurses to a room allowing me to absorb the details of what we had just been told.  I remember calling my boss at the time and explaining that I wouldn’t be in, random right!

The journey home was a blur.  My next recollection was telling my mum.  I couldn’t tell her this over the phone and I couldn’t find the stegnth to speak to her and tell her that she had to some home urgently.  I had to contact my step dad and ask him to contact her so they could come home early.  Telling her was one of the toughest moments of my life.  I can still see her face now as she digested the news.  I think we all knew that something was wrong when I had asked them to come home, but, hearing the words makes it real.

Ironic really as only a few months after my operation my mum had to have the same conversation with me.   

She had been diagnosed with breast cancer and required an op and some radiotherapy.  Mum and I were always close but an unusual silver lining of our respective brushes with Cancer it actually brought us closer.  I find that speaking to fellow survivors or Ostomist often you don’t need to explain there is almost an unspoken understanding of what you have been or are going through.

Anyway I digress.  My date for my operation came and I tried to continue with work.  Unsuccessfully I may add as concentrating was almost impossible.  The week before I took some time off, again I do not remember much, expect going to the cinema on my own to see the first Ghost Rider (Nicolas Cage) film.  Good job I was distracted as man it was a bad film!

My operation came some minor complications (which will prob be another blog post) and ahead of scheduled within 4 days after my stubbornness paid off I was discharged and sent home.  Bringing us full circle to my original point.  The journey home was painful, I had some painkillers but I was still very bruised and swollen and every bump in the road was painful.  I finally arrived home.  I had been strong up to this point and tried to keep my emotions in check.

It was at this point as I walked through the door I saw Missy, sat on the top of our brown leather sofa.  She casually looked over her shoulder with sleepy eyes and meowed.  I knew I was home!

Even as I write this I can feel a lump welling in my throat.  At that time I couldn’t hold it in and burst into tears.  Im not sure why?  Was it the sight of our house, Missy?  I think it was a combination of everything that washed over me causing an overload of emotions…..silly really.

Anyway, when we had to make the decision about missy as she had been unwell for some time all I could think about was this snapshot of my journey.  She was a companion during the following weeks were I adapted to my new life with a stoma.  While I overcame and processed what had happened to me.  I had underestimated what an important part of my life she had been over recent months.  But at that moment in the vets I was reminded.

Missy was my first pet so for that alone she will be special.  Something I am sure any pet owners appreciate. .  If you don’t have pets or never have you’ll probably be reading this thinking…WHAT???

But more than that Missy was a very important part of my recovery, more than I had realised until she was no longer in our family.   

She will be missed but importantly I will always be grateful for the companionship she showed me during some of the most challenging months of my life.