an interesting case

“You’re an interesting case.  There was fluid in the heart cavity - I’ve never seen that before.  I had to get three opinions and that took an hour”. 8.00pm on Wednesday evening and the surgeon is standing by my bed.  I could have told him all about the fluid if he’d asked me.  But I was fast asleep at the time.  

When I was first diagnosed with a bowel cancer secondary in my left lung back in 2010, there was a chance that I would lose the entire lung.  So I googled for (positive) stories from either bike riders or singers who were functioning reasonably well with just one lung.  I came across a triathlete in his mid-40s who, in his early 20s had lost his entire left lung.  Being an athlete he continued training and over time his right lung gradually expanded to fill the void left by the removal of the left.  And he continues to compete.

As it turns out, I did not lose my entire lung, just the upper lobe. And not being an athlete my body did the next best thing which was to produce a fluid to take up the space between the heart and the remainder of the lung.  Otherwise I would have had bits rattling about.  Which would be weird.  And possibly noisy.  It’s a basic law of physics; Nature abhors a vacuum.  

“We could only find one pulmonary vein on the left side”.  There should be two. “We eventually found the second one - it was stapled behind the heart.”  I could have told him about that too.  Another consequence of the lung resection.  From the way he describes it, it sounded a bit like someone losing their keys and then finding them down the back of the sofa.  

What is so remarkable is that they’re doing this blind, in the sense that they can’t lift up the lid and have a look inside.  They’re having to rely on a 3D computer model of my heart (which they generated at the beginning) to find their way around. 

The procedure eventually took over 4 hours and I’m very dozy and sore when I first come round.  I’m give crushed ice to suck by nurse Anniemay and then eventually a yoghurt (not by nurse AM).  I’m constantly fussed over and am struck by the kindness and respect  shown to both Anniemay and me.  Everyone, from ward orderly to consultant, starts with the same litany; “hello, my name is X.. do you mind if I just do this ….”  

If I was a cynic I’d say something like “they’ve all been on the same training course”.  But I’m not - what I think they have done is to create a team ethos.  Because the same respect is shown to colleagues.  This is the NHS at its very best.

I’d like to say that the procedure has been a complete success but that’s not quite the case.  Or rather, it’s not yet possible to tell.  I’m told to prepare for the possibility of a repeat of the procedure.  And as I settled down in the hospital bed for the night I was also prepared for the noise.  I learned to take earplugs into hospital a long time ago.