My dearest breasties,
It has taken me quite some time to compose this post. So, this is my horror story, or perhaps history, in anticipation of Halloween. On the 27th of September, I underwent surgery for a local recurrence. It was a mastectomy coupled with a DIEP FLAP reconstruction. After enduring a grueling 9 or 10 hours in the operating theatre, and not as a spectator, I found myself in the Intensive Recovery Unit. The pain, oh the pain!!! I must confess, that I am exceptionally terrible at coping with physical pain. It was, for me, truly unbearable.
Of course, I was administered the customary dose of painkillers, which unfortunately have the side effect of making me feel sick. Alongside those, I was given anti-sickness drugs. Well, while I was in the deepest state of stupor and dozed, both the breast cancer surgeon and the plastic surgeon informed me that my DIEP flap had failed due to a vein being damaged. But hey, they assured me that in due time, I could undergo yet another procedure to take another piece of meat from my body for breast reconstruction.
WTF indeed!!!
I was discharged with a temperature and incredibly swollen thighs. As a result of all this, I found myself back in the hospital the following day. At this stage, going to any hospital feels a bit like the hobbits visiting the Sauron Tower – it fills me with a sense of dread and horror.
Of course, the member of the plastic team who attended to me that day seemed rather oblivious to my concerns and solely focused on tissue healing. It took me more than 6 hours to finally convince him that I might have DVT. Incredibly, he asked me, “How do you know your tights are swollen?” Well, I might not have studied medical science, but I do know that the sense of vision isn’t located in the breast, right?
I spent three days in the hospital, and on the first day, I had to endure a whopping 5-hour wait before they finally decided to grace me with the gift of painkillers. It seemed like the medical team was engaged in some sort of grand discussion, perhaps deliberating their aristocratic ranks - you know, the whole junior, senior, registrar hierarchy and whatnot.
When I was finally visited by the plastic team (though not the same members who were present during my surgery), I didn’t hold back. I presented them with a piece of my mind, which included questions like: Why was I discharged with a fever? Why did the A&E specialist overlook this? Why was I left without my pain medication? Why was the failure of my DIEP not explained to me? I wanted to know all the Ws - how, when, why, and whom. And above all, I wondered why the head of the team, the one who operated on me, had conveniently vanished and wasn’t making any sort of appearance to check on me or provide an explanation.
From here, everything has gone very sour with the plastic team and I am awaiting for the pathologist report and a transfer to RM.
So, that is all folks
Thank you in advance for all your support
x
shocking catalogue of errors that no one should endure, so sorry to read what’s happened. I wouldn’t go to pals with that if you wanted to take it further, I’d be contacting a medical negligence solicitor first and letting them deal with it. Hopefully you are looked after better at RM 
