Making a right tit of myself

It's a 6am start on the day of the operation and I'm understandably apprehensive. It's a dark rainy morning. Both Lily and Gary want to take me to the hospital. With the Covid restrictions, they can only drop me off at the door and I trot in with my little bag. Dressing gown, slippers and biscuits. You can never have enough biscuits. I get to the ward. Temperature taken. Wristband on. A short wait and I'm ushered to my bay. A lady comes in opposite. The nurse sees to her first. They need to take her blood pressure so she's asked to remove her coat and scarf. Then cardigan number 1. Then cardigan number 2. Then cardigan number 3. Then a sweatshirt down to a blouse. I swear she's one of those Russian nesting dolls! I sit bemused.

My surgeon Mrs Conway comes to see me. We discuss the operation and she helpfully marks the offending boob with a big black arrow. She marks the right hand side with SN (Sentinal node). I'm second on the list but Mrs Conway is not happy with that. I am to be first. The anaesthetist comes in and explains the procedure. Did I also want two nerve block injections into my pectoral muscles whilst I was asleep? Yes. Why wouldn't I?

Because Mrs Conway has spoken - the staff are summoned into action. Theatres are changed. Staff changed. Suddenly I am being prepped at speed. Gown on. Obs done. Fetching blue stockings fitted. I walk to the operating theatre. I hop up onto the bed and the rigmarole of finding a vein begins. Three different staff try and four attempts later - they're in. The anaesthetic begins like too many G&T's. Woohoo - this is fun! And then I'm gone.

I wake up in recovery. Well that's a relief - I survived the operation at least.

I wake again and I'm back in the bay, Did I want tea and toast? That was quick - I've only just woken up. Tea and toast arrives and despite my mouth feeling like a camels hoof, I do partake. Would I like to sit in the chair? Christ - there's no peace for the wicked, They want you up and moving as soon as you can blink. I feel OK though. Obs are done but my blood pressure is low. I drink some squash and then some more. Reinforcements are sent for. That good old medicinal favourite - Lucozade. It's early evening. Would I like to get dressed? Sure thing. As I do, I look down at where naughty left boob used to be. A dressing from my cleavage, round my rib cage to my back. I feel sad. I feel sad for the lack of symmetry. I'm lob-sided. I feel sad that Gary's best man Neil will never be able to rest his beer bottle in my cleavage again....

Reminding myself why I agreed to this, I dress gingerly. I can go home. Major surgery and I'm done in a day. Major surgery to prolong my life. Major surgery to make a right tit of myself.

Lymph node biopsy results next Thursday.