7. Another wait, another scan.

Well they told me at the Pet scan that the results would go to the requesting consultant in approx 5-8 days so being a Friday I imagined I had at least a full week to wait. So in true prepper style I started cooking microwave meals for Paul, cleaning the house, especially the bathrooms; I must add at this point, my house is pretty spotless most of the time anyway but I was into a new realm of cleanliness requirement now!

A 'Designated Vomit Toilet' was mentioned not knowing if I was going to have chemo at this point, and my brain was demanding setting aside a designated poo and pube free toilet to be able to chuck up into if the need arose. :) So by the end of the following week I had a sparkling home, a freezer full of curries, chillies and spag bols, and a fresh smelling no pooping allowed gleamy vomit toilet ready for whatever would happen next. What happened next was the start of basically a whirl wind of NHS incompetence. On the Friday I got a voicemail message from the consultant at King Lynn hospital who couldn't speak understandable English, which after 6 attempts both me and Paul realised he was saying the Pet scan was back and I needed to go in for another CT scan and I would hear from the hospital to arrange it. I was more than a little perplexed.

The pet scan if you aren't aware is basically the gold standard of scans. Cancer cells light up as they take up the glucose and radioactive dye that is injected into your body and its a idiot proof way of seeing into your whole body and seeing cells that are in an accelerated state, which cancer cells are, they love glucose and get very zoomy like a kid on e numbers and glow like little beams of cancery-ous-ness for all to see even untrained idiots, which covers a vast majority of people working in the NHS I have found. CT scans with iodine dye are basically glorified x rays and pick up soft tissue in 3 D and plain x ray flat and mainly show more dense things like bones. MRI, which I cant do because I'm too claustrophobic and misophobic ( physical reaction of fear or anger to repetitive sounds) work with magnets to create 3d pictures of structure and pick up tumours etc but obviously don't show cell activity.

So I didn't quite understand why a CT was required when I'd already had the top type of scan to detect cancer. After phoning 3 or 4 different numbers I finally got a call back from a nice lady in gyny oncology, who had taken up the baton to find out for me, as it was Friday, and she didn't want me to have to wait all over the weekend to find out, that the consultant had said, I quote, 'the scan didn't get the bit of her neck I wanted' She and I actually laughed with each other, especially after I said , 'well they scanned me from the top of my head to my thighs so can someone tell him my neck is the bit between my tits and my teeth.'

She replied laughing with ' don't shoot the messenger' and I thanked her and waited for the next scan appointment.

The phone call for that came the following Monday and was for the Wednesday. So off I trotted to Kings Lynn, more needles and dyes and more machines and another CT scan , hopefully one that got 'the right part of my neck' this time.

First contact from Norwich

I'd literally just got home from the CT scan and was recovering on the sofa with a nice cup of tea and biscuit, when the phone rung. I picked it up and it was a woman, ringing from Norwich Hospital. Basically my case had been discussed in their multi disciplinary meeting that morning in Norwich head and neck oncology department and she was ringing to invite me in to see them the following Wednesday. ( I know sounds all very civilised doesn't it, like you are being invited for tea and cake )

I took the details and said I thought it was very quick as I'd only had the scan that morning! She asked 'what scan?' and I replied telling her about the text message, and the tits and teeth phone call, and that I'd had the CT scan about an hour ago. Her attitude changed to very abrupt, and she curtly informed me they knew nothing about a CT scan and didn't know why I'd been sent for it, and more over the consultant shouldn't be sending me for anything as I was under their care now! I thought all this to be a bit odd at the time, but time would only show this to be actually the normal standard of f**k up from these people.

I came off the phone, and looked at Paul and said 'Right, Norwich next Wednesday, finally I'm going to get some answers'

How very naive of me!