shitting bricks!

Hey all....

My apologies for my lack of updates over the last coupe of weeks it has been a really shit time. I finally got a date for my surgery its on Monday, like in 4 days time, like 4 sleeps away, like not fucking long at all. Am I scared...oh my god yes, I don't think I have ever faced anything so scary in my 34 years of being on planet earth. I am absolutely bricking it.

This last week has been horrendous. The two things I specifically said right from day one is that when it comes to staying in hospital I need Craig (the home slave otherwise known as husband) with me at all times due to my phobia. Without him they have no chance in hell of getting me to stay. The second one was not to drop things on me at the last minute unless they want to see what Satan would look like after getting woke up at 5am with a mahoosive hangover.....I imagine pretty fucking scary! Unfortunately because of my phobia of hospitals and my PTSD I need to know in good time so that I can process it, build myself up to it and plan ie: when to get lots of diazepam from the doctors to calm my ass down, what to do with my 3 gremlin children, when to wax the legs and shave the new sex area (armpits!!! that made you chuckle, I SO KNOW IT DID!).

HOWEVER!!!! The hospital, NHS or whoever has been running the shit show so far has completely ignored my pleas, warnings and begging. I found out on Monday morning that my surgery was a week away and that I had a week of hospital appointments booked in preparation for surgery.....oh and Craig could'nt stay either. To say I lost my shit is very much and understatement...I went full on bat shit crazy and point blank refused to have anything done 'I would rather die' were my exact words. On top of the crap mountain they were already putting in front of me they decided to tell me that the surgeon performing the gynaecology part was not who I have been dealing with so far.  In fact was the consultant I put a complaint in about back in 2016 after coming out from a smear test  feeling violated, bruised, bleeding and completely distraught because he was horrible and said I was stupid for panicking. Even the nurse who accompanied me in that appointment told him he had gone too far and encouraged me to make a complaint about the way I had been treated. Needless to say I was not a very happy girl on Monday. In fact I reckon Satan was shitting his pants that I would actually die and take over. The day ended in Craig going absolutely mental down the phone as I had been having panic attacks and was refusing to have any surgery or treatment as I felt completely let down. It finally resulted in the matron of gynaecology getting involved and after a couple of days of conversations, lots of panic attacks and swearing she has managed to organise me a side room on the ward so Craig can stay with me. The high dependency unit have also agreed for Craig to stay whilst I am in there for the first couple of days until they move me to the ward. The gynaecologist has had a massive bollocking and a warning that whilst they can't change the surgeon without postponing my surgery which they don't want to do, he has to try and stay away from me whilst I am conscious and he has to be nice or he will have the matron to deal with! I have managed to attend my appointments so far although it has meant lots of panic attacks, flashbacks of my time in Pinderfields, stress, lots of crying, Craig has now got permanent finger marks on his arms where I have clung to him for dear life whilst trying to stop myself from passing out through hyperventilating. I have got one more appointment tomorrow then that is it until Monday ( D DAY).

I have been to see the stoma nurse this week to discuss what will happen regarding my bladder removal and my new urostomy (stoma with piss bag). To be fair she was lovely and really did try to reassure me and explain everything really well so I can try and process what is going to happen to my body. We spent some time talking, crying, having a cup of tea, laughing at me having to explain to her where to find your G-SPOT (I reckon she will have a new challenge for her husband this weekend😜). We also found a position for where my new bag will sit without me looking like I have gained an extra mummy tummy. I must admit although I have had a catheter bag for about 14 years now having this urostomy is challenging. I am finding myself becoming quite self conscious about my body which is something I have never been. All my friends and even people who don't know me but have seen me drunk or on holiday will tell you I have never been conscious about how I look, the size of my body, or my disability and have maybe on a few occasions (that I can remember) got my knockers out for free drinks, sunbathed topless despite the fact my extremely large spaniel ears sit under my armpits instead of under my chin, had my scars on show because I am a warrior who survived, let my stretch marks hang out because they are proof that my body can perform miracles like making 3 babies. But here I am finding that my confidence is slipping because my body is going to dramatically change forever. So I decided that the only way to get over this issue with the stoma was to do something that actually I have never done before. I am sure all of those who are a little kinky have heard of tea bagging! (google it for those brave enough....for those who are not you may be missing out hahahaha).....well, have you heard of double bagging!!!!!??????


No....well check this shit out.......

Oh yeah baby!!!! Yes that bikini is only just covering my extremely large mollies...it was the biggest I could find. Unfortunately being a 38GG it is not easy to find swimwear to fit. I was just about to get in the hot tub by the way, I am not that insane that I generally wheel around in a bikini when its barely touching 5 degrees outside.

Yes I have a large mummy tummy but after 3 babies and 3 C-Sections I have a lot of overhang which keeps me sufficiently insulated through hibernation months. The white bag is my existing catheter which will be going on Monday and the Bridget Jones pants colour one is the practise stoma bag which I will be fitted with a new one on Monday. I'll be honest its not what I want but then why would anyone want a bloody bag stuck to their body, but I have no choice so thought I would share my new accessory with you all....I wonder if they do a Prada one in Pink! with shoes to match!.

My new designer bag will go with my new designer vagina that I will also be getting on Monday hopefully made from the flesh from my thigh. A hole of thigh flesh has to be better than a sweaty armpit! I will have a new scar that runs from my belly button all the way down to the c-section scar which sits under my overhang it will look like a big massive anchor on stomach.....ahoy there! I can be a pirate....pirates like rum..I like rum!

Apart from the double bagging and stress, this week I have also made it into the local paper (hull daily mail)...I am just that bloody awesome that people want to write about me. I have had been mentioned in my sons school newsletter (I used to go to the same school and am still remembered for being the crazy wheelchair kid that was very stubborn and did anything she could to prove people wrong and that she could do anything!) I also got a mention in the school assembly today by my old head of year....he said I am amazing and quite frankly I am inclined to agree!
 I was also reunited with my English teacher from high school this week, she has not changed at all and still the beautiful person she has always been. I have so many fond memories of Mrs Clegg she gave me my passion for classic literature, poetry, books, English language and writing which led me to completing my English degree last year and becoming an awesome blog writer. It was lovely to see her after 17 years and really made my week to give her a great big hug.  I am hoping to keep in contact with her as she has always been an inspiration to me.
 My mum's neighbour has set up a crowd funding page for me which is so lovely given that I have never met the lady. I have received so many lovely messages from people I have never met, friends, family, colleagues, and hospital staff. Being repeatedly told how amazing I am, how much of an inspiration I am, how strong I am, how beautiful I am inside and out has not only made me feel very loved, humble and supported but has given me a massive ego that even my husband is struggling to compete...we are even considering widening the doorways just to fit my big head through. All jokes aside I am really grateful to everyone, as right now I need support more than ever which is a big thing for me to admit as I am such a stubborn...I mean determined bitch that I hate to admit that sometimes, on very rare occasions I do actually need people (There Craig.....I said it!!! 😝).

I know I know, your wine glasses are running low because as Mrs Clegg would say I have WAFFLED ON TOO LONG! It has been a long blog post this time as it is possibly going to be my last one before Mondays huge challenge. Please keep me in your thoughts, and whilst I am not religious and would never encourage people to pray to thin air....for fuck sake pray the shit out of whoever you pray to that Monday will go without a hitch and I will wake up after my 8 hours of being butchered and redesigned to be able to bring you some updates from my new residency at Castle Hill hospital next week wearing my designer SUCK MY FLAPS t-shirt. I may even treat you to some pics of the new artwork!!!!! get your tissues, alcohol and sick buckets ready as it may not be pretty.

Right guys I am off Craig is currently cooking the shit out of what once resembled a fluffy white cloud that went Baa for our valentines meal and I have also got at least another 2 thirds of a bottle of prosecco to down before I try and make my brain shut up long enough I might actually get some sleep (it has not been a good week and am running on very little zzzzz's). I will love you all and leave you here..........

See you on the other side!

Love always
Amy xxx


Comments

  1. You ARE amazing, take away all the bravado, you make us all proud, keep smiling, smelling, and we will be there for you when Castle Hill has done their best. Love you camel x

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    1. Thanks dad, your pretty OK too... I learnt how to smell from the best πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ like dad like daughter! Love you emu burger xxxx

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  2. Aw Amy there are only two words for you: bloody amazing! Ok there's more. Funny, brave, inspirational, stong, I could go on! I tried to get that hunk with the washing basket to be there during your op. He said well I'm not a gynaecologist but I will have a f@#£ing good look. Joking aside, he knows a good vajazzlist should you require a bit of bling for your new designer vagina. You got this Amy. This time next week it will all be over and you can concentrate on getting yourself better. Thinking of you. Lots of love to you from your mum's wacky neighbour. Xxxxx . πŸ˜‚πŸ˜΅πŸ˜³πŸ™ƒ

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  3. Proud of you Megaboobs x
    GOOD LUCK.πŸ‘ xx

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