Surgical Strike

So, there I was, Sunday evening just finishing some fiddly bits on the Gallic Celt cavalry that I am doing for a friend. You know, the little bits of pink and white around the mouth, the eyes and the hooves. This painting session had taken up most the evening but I thought that was good compared my recent miserable health delayed work.

Was quite chuffed so packed off to bed to read a page or two of one of Angus Konstams tomes. As usual I went for a quick jimmy and nothing much came out apart from a spurt of bright red blood. Best see the doctor in the morning I said to my good lady.

Thirty minutes later was in agony, on a scale of 1 to 10 it was a number 8 or 9. A quick phone call to NHS 24 provided an appointment with a doctor at the local Royal Infirmary. Urine Tract Infection she said, take these anti-biotics to sort that out but while you are here go and see Accident & Emergency as your blood pressure and heart rate are both outside the ranges we would like to see.

Another 30 minutes later another medical team established that my blood pressure was a wee bit high and the medication I was already on was the preferred treatment. Unfortunately my heart rate was on another planet. 155 to 165 Beats Per Minute where a more normal person would be 60 to 80. No problem they said, we have an effective treatment for that and right enough it calmed down after taking 4 little triangular blue pills. I think they gave me something for pain relief at that point but since I WAS in pain I can't be sure. I think I had managed to pass some fluid too so they decided I could go home and wait for an out-patient appointment. A CT scan will check out your kidney and bladder plumbing as they may be blocked and that I also have a small tumour on my left kidney.

That was a bummer.

Had another pee before heading home again and it was nothing but blood, bright red blood.

They decided to transfer me to the Western General Hospital as they were better equipped to deal with my situation so off we went in a paid-for taxi leaving our car behind in a pay-through-the-nose car park.

Once at the Western it took about an hour to find a ward which dealt with me. There was a lot of confusion and mis-direction happening as I was following instructions from a probably very tired nurse to a non-standard reception at a different hospital but I got there in the end.

They bedded me in, gave me pain relief, a catheter (very painful) to drain off fluid, numerous ultra-sound scans and several visits by a team of surgeons and consultants and eventually a cosy chat, in the 'bereavement' room with the head consultant. He explained that my tumour could well be cancerous, which I had already guessed, and could be easily operated within a day or two.

Unfortunately the cancer may have spread and we need a CT scan to give us a detailed picture. Hopefully we'll get a scan done later today and operate as soon as possible.

Three days later I am still waiting for a CT scan. They have sent me home as I am out of pain (isn't morphine wonderful), can pee and eat (not simultaneously) so I can now expect an out patient appointment.

I have an appointment with my local GP on Monday morning where I will no doubt have a bit of a rant. Why can't I get a CT scan. It only needs a radiologist and a free scanner and 30 minutes max. there is a team of surgeons, medics and nursing staff just waiting to get started. I would even be happy to travel to another hospital in another city, Glasgow, Dundee or even Newcastle if they had spare capacity elsewhere.

Anyway, back to my starting story. I am now doing the shield decals before moving on to plaid and checked trousers on the riders. I imagine I will use as much of my spare time as possible clearing the decks until a clearer picture emerges.