A year ago today, I went for my chest x-ray, after seeing my GP the day before. That chest x-ray, was the thing I needed to start the ball rolling to get my final diagnosis. 48 hours after the x-ray (Thursday), I was to get a call telling me I needed a CT scan the next day (Friday). I didn’t sleep from then until I saw the chest consultant (Tuesday).
I was convinced I was going to walk into that room to be told they suspected Hodgkin’s, but no, they suspected a cyst. It was only when I saw the surgeon who was going to remove the said cyst, that he also suspected lymphoma because of my alcohol pain. The reason I saw him? Because I was bricking it about the operation, and wanted to see him to see if I could cancel it. He wouldn’t let me.
That operation, or at least the thought of it, was the scariest thing I ever had to go through. I spent so much time reading up on it, I’d convinced myself I was going to die. I was asking Neil to make sure he’d tell Jake about me.
All of that seems like I lifetime ago now, and it all started with that chest x-ray. It took long enough to get it, but I am to this day so grateful to the GP that referred me for it. I can hand on my heart say that she saved my life.