It was just after 8am and I was dressed and ready to go... but my mum had already left. It's the day of her bronchoscopy and I was supposed to be accompanying her but we decided that I would be best at home. This way, I can crack on with the house work that has been neglected since Monday and shop so that she has food to eat (will she eat it?) when she comes home. Soup for lunch, chicken for dinner and ice cold magnums if she needs to soothe her throat (thanks to my friend Jake for reminding me yesterday that she's likely to have a sore throat!). She has my brother there to take her and bring her home so the best place for me is here; the house leaped into the bounds of unnacceptable a day or two ago.
She's very worried. Anxious and apprehensive. I wish I could go with her and sit at her side but no amount of begging hospital staff will bring that to fruition. I, too, am worried but she's in the best place where they will take great care of her. My real worry starts when she gets home; she's staying here again as the hospital advised her to have someone with her because there's a risk of bleeding after the procedure. Will she tell me if something feels not-right? Will she recognise that something is not-right or will she attribute the not-right feeling to just a general unnease? I feel I'll probably spend the night on the sofa next to hers just in case.
The unexplainable sickness was strong this morning. Possibly a mix of not having her staple cup of tea (fasting since midnight), a lack of substantial food and not sleeping very well? As mad as it sounds, I hope so! Her general demeanour and the way she feels has taken quite the downturn since her diagnosis. I've woken up hungry and I consumed 2 or 3 - maybe even 4 - times the amount of food she did yesterday.
I'm plagued with a constant feeling of not-doing-enough. I've offered to give up my bed but she tells me that she's far more comfortable on the sofa where she can prop the cushions up and it's the best nights sleep she's had in a while. Throughout meal times, I urge her to eat more but she can't; am I being strong enough? Is she warm enough? Too warm? I think she's getting fed up of my constant checking that she's okay.
I felt very overwhelmed last night. I had struggled to sleep the night before and was up early yesterday. Completely knackered all day, the sun went down and my mind woke up. No specific thoughts - I'm trying to avoid overthinking and analysing - just a general feeling of complete and utter unnease. Even once asleep, I was waking up what felt like every few minutes. I don't feel that I'm doing enough.
I need to be doing something. Even if it doesn't help our situation now but has the chance to help in the grand scheme of things, I need to do something. I've been thinking about doing a skydive for charity. There's a... company(?) by the name of Skyline that I've requested more information from. I've also thought about Race For Life. I think I'll have more success at jumping from 10k feet than I will at running 5km however! Even with my fear of heights.
I've also found an agency in Edinburgh that offers properties to rent but also takes no deposit. I've sent off an email to them too for possible further details and more help.
I mentioned the flowers she received from her friends and colleagues... yesterday? My days are running away with themselves. Anyway, she'd taken them home but then returned here later that night and forgot to bring them. She was concerned that they were going to die whilst she was away so we drove to her house and picked them up. On the way back, we popped into Asda for food and I managed to pick up a vase for them so they're fed and watered.
She texted me this afternoon that she'd had the procedure done and that it was awful; she was aware of every single second but she was okay. It was over however her lung was bleeding and she was told they were going to have to x ray her but she should be out at around 2pm. Not long after that, she said that the woman next to hers husband had arrived which meant they were allowed someone with them so I asked her if she wanted me to come up and sit with her. No reply. I called her and her phone just rang out 3 times.
I sent a message to my sister telling her that I couldn't get through and she gave me the name of the ward she was in so I headed up anyway.
When I walked in the ward, I asked her how she felt and she just cried and cried. She's scared. Of course, it almost set me off but I managed to hold it together for her. After that, she seemed to be okay. She said the procedure was absolutely horrendous and she was aware of everything but that she felt much better now and she looked it. For the first time since Monday, despite sitting in a hospital gown in a hospital bed, she looked her normal self.
She had - according to her notes - extensive bleeding during the procedure so they'd had to go in a second time but, thankfully, they managed to stop it. She remembers someone screaming for suction and that she thought she was going to die there. But again, they stopped it and that's what matters: she's okay.
The consultant was not happy at all that she's not been sent to see someone to talk about this. Really, really not happy. So he's got her in for a talk with him in his clinic next Friday where she'll also get the results of the biopsy and, a further week after that, will be the turn of the PET scan. The one to see if its spread.
But she feels good. Much better now that the procedure is over, she said. She had been severely dreading it.
When will the world progress so far that, at the switch of a button, I can be in her place and she can be in mine?
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