hospital | Mum In The Madhouse

hospital

When not to behave like an 8 year old…

So we carried on with the holiday and I tried to manage the pain with over the counter painkillers and some delicious pink fizz.

The journey home on Saturday was interesting to say the least and Sunday morning saw me at A&E having finally admitted that I was struggling to cope with the pain.

So a CAT scan and a couple of x-rays later I have decided that it is time to start acting more my age than shoe size. I can tell you that broken ribs HURT like nothing else and mean sleep is pretty none existent in The Mad House currently. I also have a shadow on my lung, so am off for another x ray tomorrow to rule out scary stuff.

But even though lack of sleep and pain is meaning I am a grumpy bean at the moment. France was amazing and we had a super time.

When not to behave like an 8 year old… Read More »

Angelina, Me and BCRA

At this point Mini, my second child was around one I was offered the test too. MadDad and myself went along to meet the pretest councillor and discussed all the implications of having a positive test. We left those meetings really feeling as though I needed to have the test and I need to be aware of what my risk would be. Do I had the test and two weeks later we went back for the results, only to be told that I too carried the faulty gene too.

We went home reeling, especially as I had been told that my lifetime risk of breast cancer was over 80% and my lifetime risk of ovarian cancer was in excess of 60%. However, we decided to look up on this as a positive thing and do the only thing I felt able to do which was to gather as much information as possible about treatment and screening. I had a mammogram and an MRI on my breasts, but both were really hard to interpret due to my age (the younger you are the more dense the breast tissue is) and also the fact I had large breasts.

It was around this time that we made the hard decision that we were not going to have anymore children and that I needed to be well for the two I had and to have my ovaries and fallopian tubes removed. I did this first as there is some studies that shown the risk of ovarian cancer increases at 35 and also it is a silent killer and there was no screening I could have at the time.

Four months later we made the informed decision to have a double mastectomy and immediate reconstruction with implants. We made the decision to have implants due to MIni being under a year old and the recovery would be quicker. So I went in for my operation on 28 February. Unfortunately for me things were not straightforward and I had issues with the implants and subsequently spent a lot of time in hospital with sepsis and had to have the implants removed and another operation to remove some more tissue sue to the pathology of the previously removed breasts.

It was a hard and very emotional time for me and my family. I was in hospital for over six weeks over a two month period. But I reduced my risk of breast cancer to less than 5%. I still have not had a reconstruction, but when the boys are more self sufficient I will.

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Bean juice, slips and snaps

went arse over tit, in slow motion and put my left arm out to try and stop myself my catching on to the counter top, but instead of stopping me falling it just went crack instead. So off to A&E in an ambulance I went. Gas and Air did nothing and the poor paramedics couldn’t get a vein to administer any pain relief. Drew arranged for the boys to go to his parents and followed behind. Once at the hospital I mad some morphine and then x-rays and yep, my arm is broken. but……………… in typical Jen fashion (I do not do anything by half) it is a lateral fracture of the bone as it goes in to the shoulder, so it can not be potted.

So I am in a sling and in a lot of pain. We are hoping that the bone knits well on its own in 3 to 4 weeks and then I a

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Life

Sometimes life is hard, sometimes I struggle to just see clearly through the fog that is the shroud of my day to day activities. Sometimes when you add in to it pain, recovery and recouperation it is hard to see much past the end of my arm, let alone to the coming weeks and months.
I underwent pretty major surgery on Friday 1 July and anticipated that I would be fine and well and back out of the hospital over the weekend. Oh how wrong was I. I finally was realised the following Friday at 9.30pm after much discussions and some tears on my part as I was missing my family. My surgery was much more complex than originally anticipated and has meant that I am unable to eat solid food for approximately another four weeks and am very much in pain, however, those of you with young children will understand when I say that they have no understanding of concept gentle.

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Bittersweet

I have been trying to keep myself busy these last few weeks. Trying to avoid the feeling that has been building in my chest, the rising emptiness that has permeated my whole being. I dare not stop, I dare not let this feeling invade for the tears will start to fall and I fear that they may never stop.

Perspective, yes that is what I have needed. It is hard to admit that I am still grieving, that I am scared and that I am so frightened at the moment. That living my life can be so bloody hard. That sometimes the fear paralyses me, that I want to curl up in a little ball and not to go on.

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Overstretched, underpaid and giving it their all

have never made my admiration for the NHS a secret. I am one of the few who has seen them when a real emergency occurs. Who have seen them give their all when people where in life or death situations and watched as they provided amazing acute health care. Whats more this health care, which in other countries would costs tens of thousand of pounds is free.

nearly 12 years ago my wonderful dad was involved in an industrial accident, He was resuscitated at the scene by his work mates and the first responder (a paramedic in a car) and then blue lighted to hospital in an ambulance. Upon arrive to the A&E department he was provided with top notch trauma care, including x-rays, scans, pain relief, breathing assistance and medication. When my mum arrived at the hospital she was ushered in to the trauma department and keep pretty much informed and updated as the situation would allow.

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