Time for PMA and sangfroid.

Thursday 8^th Dec, morning:

Sarah rushes into the bedroom and thrusts the phone in my hand.

"Good morning Mr Litt, how are you? Sorry to call you so early in the morning" says Linda apologetically.

“Er, um yeah I’m fine thanks.” I say trying to sound like I’ve not just woken up.

“There’s been a development, a cancellation and availability for surgery. Have you eaten anything this morning?”

“Wow! No, I’m still in bed, I’ve not eaten or drank anything” It now dawns on me that surgery is being offered today!

“How quickly can you get to Southampton General?” Linda then goes on to explain the plan.

I pressed the red button on the phone, took a breath and looked up at Sarah. 

That was the start of Thursday morning, from slumber to springing into action.  Linda the surgeon’s administrative assistant was trying her best to get me in for the procedure as quickly as possible. The plan had been for the 13^th December but availability of operating theatre space still hadn’t been confirmed and was being problematic.  Let’s go with this we thought, time is tight before Christmas and we don’t want it to be delayed by lack of available dates. Rushing around the house sorting out: an overnight bag, passwords for everything, who we should contact, questioning if we should tell the girls before I go in, almost ready to leave the house and another call comes in.

“Stand down, Southampton General’s high dependency unit is on red alert due to lack of available beds. All operations are to be cancelled today.” Another apologetic call from Linda (paraphrased).

A bit of a rollercoaster ride to start the day but good to know the surgeon and his team are working hard to get me in for the surgery. The day progressed well as I watched my brother, Tim, put a new side gate on the house.  It was great to watch a handy brother take charge and do something I’d been putting off for months J.  You’ve got to get the best out of people when they offer to help.  I may take up some of the offers to help as the whole of the downstairs needs repainting and the garden tidying…keep the offers coming in.

One thing I mustn’t forget was Roni’s celebration at her school.  This was a presentation by all the year six kids on an architectural project they’d being working on all term.  “Don’t forget Dad”, this was the reminder on the fridge.

 Finally, after what sounded like a massive effort and much negotiation from Linda and the surgeon they have now secured the operation date and all the necessary staff.  Monday 12^th December is going to be the date to carry out the Whipple procedure. That gives me a few days to enjoy as much good food as I can.  So, the day was finished off by having  a cracking curry with Tim and my good mate Neil Barfoot (aka Colin) at the Purbani in Botley.    

Earlier in the week:

Saturday – Monday 5^th Dec.

The weekend was a good time to let the whole situation settle in our minds and gather questions for the surgeon.  I spoke to an ex-patient waxing lyrical on how good the surgeon is, her progress over the last three years and what I should expect to go through. A huge help and reassurance.

 On Monday Sarah and I met up with the surgeon, Mr Mo Abu Hilal, to talk through our questions and understand more about the Whipple procedure.  Both of us gained a great deal from the meeting and felt much more comfortable with the procedure and outcomes.

Wednesday 7th December

A great day in London. It started in Costa coffee with Dave, Dave an Keith.  A more unsympathetic bunch you couldn't wish to meet -  we had a hoot.   Lunch at the top of the Gherkin with Jeff Johnson and the whole Azure leadership team (picture at top).  I continue to say this but I do work, and have worked, with some amazing people that are so genuine and supportive.  I’ve truly been taken aback by the support and kindness everyone has shown, it certainly will help me on this journey.

A quick drink and catch up with Catherine and Barrie before the train home.  Great to recount the wedding of the decade in Buncrana, Co. Donegal, Ireland. 

Catching the train home from Waterloo.  I had 10 minutes before departure, the girls had asked me to buy them something in Lush (bath bombs etc.).  I ran into the shop with my list prepared by Roni,  just so I didn’t forget.  I saw the shopping assistant, list in hand I pounced and barked, “I’ve got 5 minutes and this list can you help me? Two of everything.”  She could and she did in double quick time.  While waiting impatiently for a woman to decide on her purchase I kindly advised, “it’s only a bath-bomb (£4.95), just buy it, you’ve got bigger things to worry about I’m sure.  Life is too short.” She turned and looked at me and said “You’re right, I’ve had some terrible news last week and found out two friends have been diagnosed with cancer.  Life is too short to worry about the little things” I turned and smiled, “I’m sorry to hear your news, I wish them all the best. Let’s worry about the big things”.  The shop assistant had by then rung everything through the till “Here you go sir that will be £48.50 in total.” I nearly collapsed, £48.50 for bath-bombs!

   

Sangfroid – A word not commonly used but I was reminded of by a good friend, Mr Joyce.  Apparently, I have the ‘sangfroid to kick this in the nuts’.  I like the word and the sentiment and hence the title of this blog update.