Gynaecology or Surgical? | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Gynaecology or Surgical? | Previous Challenge Entry
By Anne Linington
01/10/08
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Gynaecology or Surgical? she heard the doctors discussing beyond the curtain that screened the cubicle. Lying on the trolley in Accident and Emergency, under the bright lights, a decision was being made as to which specialty she would be referred, and which team would carry out the surgical procedure which had become necessary.

Earlier that day she had visited her General Practitioner after a sleepless night during which the swelling and resultant pain had escalated at an alarming rate. She was scared. Insisting to the receptionist that she needed to see a Doctor that day, she returned at the end of the scheduled morning appointments.

She related how she had foolishly ignored a tiny, less than pea-sized solid shape which she had felt with her fingers for some weeks, could it even have been months she wondered?. Shutting her mind to the possibilities, now she was forced to address the problem. In just twelve hours a swelling had developed, and was growing apace, with some discomfort and a lot of pain. But that was nothing compared to the pain to come. Armed with an accompanying letter she travelled the fifteen miles to the Hospital and entered with a walk akin to John Wayne.

Her biggest fear of course was the dreaded “C” word, Cancer. And if it was, and if it had spread in the intervening weeks, she had no-one but herself to blame. Thoughts raced through her mind, until she had herself almost dead, buried and the funeral service arranged.

“The Surgeons will be taking care of you” she was told after their deliberations. This would not involve a transfer to another hospital, and she would be added to the Theatre list already in progress. At least she was going to find out what exactly was happening, and this brought much-needed relief.

Back in her hospital bed she awoke to find a nurse gently refreshing her mouth with a citrus-flavoured swab, which would remain one of the nicest tastes she could ever recall.

Shortly afterwards a handsome member of the Surgical team came to let her know their findings.
They had found a nasty abscess, which they had drained, and at the base had been a very small polyp which was removed. The wound could not be stitched, but would have to remain open in order for it to drain further. This necessitated packing with dressing, the changing of which was so painful she needed gas and air. This wound would have to heal from the bottom up to avid re-infection.

As he left, he quipped that she should a more appropriate site in future!

The tiny polyp, unattended, had caused worry, pain and a surgical procedure involving a three-day hospital stay. Fortunately for her it was not cancerous, but she had learned her lesson, and would never again leave something unattended, festering, either in body or mind.

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