I turned up at the Royal Gwent Hospital on Thursday morning
with my bladder comfortably full as requested. First job was to provide urine
sample which fortunately presented little problem Others not so fortunate in
the waiting room were having to drink water to try and deliver the required
liquid. We sat, a disparate bunch, suitably masked at the requisite two metre
intervals. As it always seems to be it was far too hot.
After around half an hour I was escorted to a small cell of
a room to answer some questions about my general health. My answers plus the
results of the urine test meant that I could proceed to the next stage – the
biopsy. Before that I was given what seemed to be a pretty heavy duty dose of
antibiotics to ward off potential infections. Then it was back to the waiting
room with a biscuit to accompany the antibiotics.
Another half an hour passed before I was led to another
room. This was where the procedure would take place. It was cramped
particularly as I would have three people in attendance – the consultant, the
radiographer and a nurse. The consultant gave a brief explanation of what was
about what was going to happen which went in one ear and out of the other. Then
without further ado my trousers and pants were around my ankles and was lying
on my side on a bed.
The nurse was not quite holding my hand but was strategically
placed to allay my growing anxiety.
Before very long it seemed as if a drainpipe was being inserted into my
back passage. Not very pleasant I have to say although all you can do is b=grin
and bare it in all senses of the word.
I was warned that the biopsy was about to begin and it felt
as if a nail gun was being used inside the depths of my body. Despite some
local anaesthetic it still gave a certain amount of discomfort as the samples
were taken from that pesky prostate. Mandy the nurse and I talked about
holidays whilst all this was going on in my rear end. It is rather incongruous
but it was soon all over. My pants and trousers were raised to their proper
position and feeling a little strange it was back to normality. I am not quite
sure what I expected but I was told the results would not be available for
three to four weeks.
I returned to the waiting room and was brought cup of tea
and a biscuit. Another nurse took me through what aftereffects I might expect
and also doled me out a course of antibiotics. The thought of blood in my urine
etcetera was quite disturbing. I was then presented with another plastic jug
for another urine sample. So it was back to waiting along with my fellow
sufferers all sat with their plastic jugs waiting for nature to take its
course.
Fortunately for me in my case this did not take too long. I
duly delivered half a jug full about ten minutes later. As it turned out the
nurse was not interested in the actual fluid but more that I was able to pass
water. I felt quite disappointed when I had to flush it away and put the
plastic jug in the bin.
This was the last act and I was now free to go. Since I was
not allowed to drive and not allowed to use public transport, I has told the
nurse I was going to call a taxi. She was not keen on this as it counted as
public transport. She wrote me a letter to give to the driver if I felt poorly.
In the mean time I had decided I was going to walk home. I had worked out if I
took the lift up to fourth floor I would emerge from the hospital well up the
quite steep hill that I need to climb to get home. From there it was only a
fifteen minute walk and I felt fine. It would be almost as far to get to a
taxi.
So this was exactly what I did and I was at home having yet
another cup of tea before 11.00am. It probably was not a sensible thing to do
but I felt none the worse.
As I reflected on what was a far from enjoyable experience,
I thought just how pleasant everyone had been. Just imagine what spending your
day peering up various back passages must be like. Hats off to them all.
As to the aftereffects of the procedure, I guess I must have
been fortunate. So far, apart from a few spots of blood in the urine there
seems to be little to worry about in that respect.
Of course, the big thing to worry about is what will the
biopsy uncover. There is that agonising three weeks or so of not knowing the
outcome to contend with. I guess I need to push that to the back of my mind if
I can as worrying about it won’t change anything. What will be will be.
This is certainly easier said than done!
