The next few days and weeks after being told I could have cancer were a challenge to say the least. I was waiting on my next appointment date (10th November 2017) which was for a larger biopsy to be taken of my cervix to be tested for cancer. This had to be done under a general anesthetic because of the high risk associated with bleeding during this procedure so soon after a pregnancy. Before this moment I had been a fit and healthy 26 year old, never been in hospital before and never had any health problems. In fact up to this moment the worst illness I had experienced was chicken pox when I was ten years old. Because of this the thought of being put to sleep for a medical procedure (no matter how small) filled me with fear. I had never been so anxious about anything in my life before. I was told that it was a day procedure and I wouldn’t have to stay in hospital at all in and out in one day that’s the best I could have hoped for. The day before the procedure I was advised it best that I come in that night for pre assessment and to guarantee my place on the surgery list the next day. This was not what I wanted to hear. Reluctantly I packed my overnight bag and headed for the hospital.
When I had answered all the medical questions and I was left alone to try and sleep for the night, the tears streamed down my face and there was nothing I could do to make them stop….. I couldn’t believe I was lying in a hospital bed, I couldn’t believe that the procedure the next day was potentially going to tell me I had cervical cancer. My thoughts were going round my head quicker than the revolving hospital doors. I lay down in an uncomfortable hospital bed, four weeks after a c section, feeling sore, alone and very afraid of what was to come. I put in my earphones,
and started to play some music to drown out the noise of the lady snoring in the next bed.
This is when I discovered my happy place. I started to play an album by Bob Marley and the memories came flooding back of Jamaica, our wedding and the day I had spent snorkelling of a little deserted island nicknamed cat island by the locals in the Caribbean ocean. This was the best day of my life, we sat alone on cat island with nothing other than a tin of Diet Coke (which was warm with the heat), our flippers, each other and the hope that the local I had paid to sail us over to cat island would actually return to get us. We had been married the day before and everything was perfect. I had married the man I loved and I had the Caribbean sun on my skin.
Without this memory my tears wouldn’t have stopped.
The next day was going to alter the path my life was going to take and I had absolutely no control of it.