The High Road and some Low bits

Chris and I love The Lake District but there is no mistaking the unique beauty of Scotland. The freshness of the air, the vastness of the lowland forests. I truly love this country and am proud to say that my ancestors walked this land. We had an easy journey North and arrived at Samye-Ling after a pleasant three hour drive punctuated by a picnic at Gretna Green.

Thursday and Friday were awesome as we immersed ourselves in the sound, authentic teaching of Julie Wise and Greg Horner. Drum Journeying, learning about the Medicine Wheel, so much to take in and we absolutely basked in it. All in all, it was a real, all round deep and profound experience.








Waking up on Saturday morning I was aware of pain in my armpit and upped the meds. By lunchtime I wasn't feeling too good at all so opted to miss the awesome Samye-Ling food and get some rest. An afternoon sleeping worked wonders and I so enjoyed the Saturday evening session. However, Sunday wasn't a good day. (I could reframe that into 'Sunday wasn't quite such a wonderful day as it might have been' but I've already reframed it from 'Sunday was a fecking nightmare!') The Retreat finished with us dismantling the Medicine Wheel we'd created and closing the Directions. Very poignant and I wouldn't have missed any of that for the world. However, I was certainly struggling physically. Pain from swelling in my armpit wasn't touched by anything other than the stronger meds and they wore off far too quickly. The journey home was very painful with every bump in the road rattling through my body.


I've promised to be real in this blog and this bit of the journey was a bit grim. To cut a longer story short, I'd taken all the pain relief I could for one day and was still very uncomfortable. I contacted 111 who suggested going to Urgent Care where I'd probably be seen within 3 hours. I opted to stay snuggled up in bed but the swelling and pain got worse. I then sought advice from a higher source and checked my symptoms out with a lovely Reiki Nursey friend. She too said go to hospital as it sounded like I had an infection. So, when Chris got home from a Sound Bath we set off for Blackburn A&E. The full waiting room and flashing sign telling us there was less of a wait at Burnley, Preston and Wigan suggested we'd be there for some time. However, after just 40 minutes I was taken through triage and moved into a cubicle and given pain relief. The staff were rushed off their feet and this experience gave me a real insight into what these dedicated folks face every day. Patients worse the wear for alcohol, angry men demanding immediate attention for their woman or child and a very distressed and frightened gentleman with dementia who required restraint by security, alongside gentle reassurance from a kind and patient nurse. In the context of what was going on around me, I was content to be on a comfy bed in cubicle with an IV antibiotic drip starting to tackle the infection.

I did feel rather sorry for the junior doctor who was treating me. I think he'd been off on the day they practiced taking blood from an orange at medical school. After his second aborted attempt to find a vein, the poor chap had the air of a man facing erectile dysfunction, "I can usually get it in fine, may-be I'm just tired." I persuaded him to have another bash at it and he agreed to one last try and if that failed he'd get a nurse to do it! Chris and I stifled the urge to applaud as he managed to take my blood. Just as I suspect he stifled the urge to do a lap of honour around the cubicle with his well-fitting designer shirt over his head!

Once again, I experienced only kindness from every over-worked, fully-stretched, exhausted member of the medical staff that I came across. At 2am another doctor came along to assess me for ward allocation. This was a shock to both myself and Chris. I think I'd gone to A&E with the assumption they'd give me stronger pain relief and antibiotics and send me on my way. However, around 3.30am I found myself being pushed through Blackburn hospital to Surgical Triage by a lovely young lass who handled the wayward wheels of the hefty wheelchair with grace and panache! 

I was checked-in by a tired nightshift nurse who drew the short straw as my cubicle didn't have a light that worked. The poor lass had to use her phone to see the form she had to complete. Personally I didn't give a shit about anything now as the morphine had kicked in. Once again, I saw how hard the night shift work- there's no sitting around reading Women's Weekly for these folks- if anything it's busier than day time. The next doctor I saw, however, did worry me when she reassured me they'd make sure I was taken over to Burnley on Thursday for my follow-up from surgery appointment. Four days in hospital? Four days away from Chris? That really was a grim bit and I will confess to feeling emotional. I chucked every bit of Reiki at myself that I could muster and also gave myself a strong talking to before drifting off to sleep.
 
Around 8.30am I was seen by the surgeon on duty who told me I could go home as the antibiotics could continue in tablet form. Quite honestly I could have snogged the man and may have considered having his babies were my womb still active! I texted Chris who came straight over and we fled with the pace of a flying bedpan.

Over the next few days, the scar in my armpit opened and the Lymphedema drained itself. Yes it was messy but oh the relief! A trip to Burnley to get it dressed and the reassurance of my lovely breast care nurse put me back on track and by Thursday I was starting to feel human again. Just in time to go to get the biopsy results from surgery. I certainly felt I'd weathered a storm, turned a corner and my positivity was restored. 


                                                                                                                                 Liz X