I've had a bit of an adventure today. Over the past 18 months/2 years I've had a lump grow at the back of my head.
Be warned, the rest of this post is not particuarly graphic, but if you're anyway squeamish, best not to read on!
Initially the nurse at my local practice dismissed it as being just the shape of my head. As if I didn't know what my own head felt like! The lump kept growing though, so after having to see two doctors (the first was young and needed a second opinion for her comfort I think) I was finally scheduled for surgery. No hospital visit needed though as my village surgery is set up for minor ops - how wonderful is that?!
I signed the consent form and was told to sit on the couch with my back to the room. A little bit of my hair was cut so the doctor could get to the lump and the rest was kept out of the way with K Y Jelly of all things. The nurse stood poised and then came the sting of the local anaesthetic being injected as a ring around the lump. It hurt like a bitch but when it started to work, it felt like I had a weight on there
As soon as I was numb, the doctor cut. The sound was amazing - exactly like sharp dressmaking shears cutting through silk. I was a bit distracted soon though as there was so much blood it was pouring down my cleavage. So glad I thought to wear old clothes. I chatted with the doc all the way through and at this point he told me I was bleeding like a stuck pig. I started to feel a bit woozy so they laid me down and for the rest of the op I had my face stuffed in the pillow. The doc told me that I didn't have a cyst but a lipoma - Latin for a fatty lump. He cut it out, explained a lot about how to tie off a bleeder and how it wouldn't be cancerous but could come back. There was some kind of to do about what silk to stitch me with and something not working but once the strongest silk was used, all was sorted. As the nurse stated to clean me up, I got the doc to show me what he'd cut out. Two lumps of knobbly looking fat. Lovely.
I had to make a follow up appointment for the stitches to be removed, so I stood in the waiting room, blood matted wound for all to see, until the receptionist dealt with me.
I've been resting at home ever since, avoiding looking at let alone touching anywhere near my wound. I don't even know how many stitches there are in there. The anaesthetic still hasn't worn off so I'm not sure how sore I'm going to be or how I will sleep. I do know I'm going to look a state as I'm not allowed to get it wet until Monday - how delightful that cocktail of blood and ky is going to be by then.
This has taken me all day to write - effects of the whole thing maybe?