Hospital.




I’m writing this rather personal post, because  lot of lovely people were made aware I was in hospital via Instagram, I thought I’d use this blog temporarily to explain in a little more detail as to why I ended up there.

Monday 13th June, I awoke with slight pain in my left breast, and found a lump, the size of a ping pong ball, we went out and had a lovely time as a family, the pain was getting a liittle more harder to ignore. At this point I had no plan to visit a doctors, because I thought at that point it was a blocked milk duct, not being able to breastfeed A at all the first time around, I figured my breasts were working harder, & another part of me thought I’d just go away..
We got home early afternoon, & I felt so rough (achey,cold flu like symptoms) that I went to bed & fell asleep for an hour.
We had dinner at our caravan because I felt so rough, shivering into my pasta, I barely ate anything, I didn’t feel hungry & felt quite sick. I decided to lay in bed, I took my bra off and then the immense pain came, non stop all day, now it was unbearable, cold compress didn’t help nor did a newly brought hot water bottle.. I noticed the lump had grown, & was now a little larger than a cricket ball.
Dean pursuaded me to go to non accident, I really didn’t want to bother anyone, but the pain was so great I couldn’t sleep anymore, get into any position to help.

At a little after 7pm, Dean drove us to Weymouth health center, sobbing to the lady at the front desk, I gave her my details, with no bra on and just my t-shirt, cardi & jacket we waited.. the worst part was seeing the looks on A’s face, he is a worryer, just like Dean & I, reassuring him that “when he has a poorly we make it better, but today someone else has to make muma’s poorly better”.
I saw a very helpful female doctor, she examined me & would not stop pushing and prodding my breast lump, which brought me to tears, I was fighting them back because it was absolutely excruticating, seeing my sons face on mine broke me, still I made all the effort I could to make him feel reassured.
She gave me  piece of paper and told me A&E Dorset county hospital will be expecting me & to go straight there, before she handed it to us, she had a big job of getting us the help, at now was 8pm ish, what didn’t help was she kept saying “cancer” luckily A is too young to understand such a word, but Dean, now distraught was understandibly worried, I shook my head at him and told him, it’s not cancer, it cannot be & lets not jump to conclusions, semi worried myself also, I’m 22 weeks pregnant I kept telling myself, this is not cancer.

It took us 15 minutes to get to Dorset A&E, we waited a period of time which is unknown, and two lovely ladies took my blood pressure, pulse & temperature.
They had asked me what I’d taken for the pain, I explained I hadn’t taken anything, that because I was pregnant, I’m extremely awkward about taking anything, they were shocked and stunned I’d gone without pain relief for so long, feeling desperate I explained I was willing to take paracetamol, but that It of course had to be a safe dose for my unborn baby.

I took the paracetamol & the pain eased slightly, “we’ve got you a bed upstairs, which is more comfortable than A&E, a consultant will see you there and go from there”.
A porter then wheeled me in a wheelchair upstairs, by that time A was very concerned, his Muma, was being wheeled in a chair in a hospital, goodness knows what was going through his mind.. I tried to turn it into a race, the porter chatted to us whilst we were on our way upstairs & I turned A’s hurried pace into a little race, my efforts were weak, but all through this I was telling him I’m ok, & baby is ok & everything Is going to be ok.
I was shown to a bed & told a consultant would see me asap, this time it was just turning 11pm, I explained my young son & husband was here also, they had to go back without me, that part was the hardest Ive ever had to deal with, all the buttons and tubes on the wall behind me (none of which I needed!) scared him, and I could tell, I told him that they were just buttons and things & muma didn’t need any of that, two women in the same ward watched & smiled weakly, they were mothers themselves, at how I was quietly trying to explain I was ok, & that it’s so late that he & Dada was going back to the caravan to sleep & come get me in the morning.
At this point I was led to believe that I was staying overnight.
Dean & A went back, & I said to A to look after Dada (who I knew was having a hard time at this point) and that he if he wanted could sleep with Dada in the “big bed”.

A little after midnight the consultant & another guy, examined me, by this point the paracetamol was wearing off, he was surprised at the size of the lump & finally explained I’d be given Anti-biotics and rushed on the list to have the lump drained, an ultrasound on it first then drained..
I was told It was mastitis, something I’d thought earlier on in that day, simply because all the symptoms fit.

I was told I may as well go back, that there's no point in me staying overnight because I’m simply waiting for an appointment.
So a little after midnight, Dean & I picked me up & we all went back to the caravan together, A’s face was so wonderful to see, his joy I was back.
I got him snuggled into his bed, read a story (to his request) & he went straight off to sleep.

So this is the place I’m at now, I’m currently waiting by my phone for an appointment for this draining & ultrasound on it.
I’m taking the antibiotics and I’m still in a lot of pain, but hopefully I’ll get a phone call soon and be able to continue our holiday hopefully pain free..


I want to take this opportunity to thank all those who commented on Instagram  & to my parents,and my husbands family for all their well wishes & messages of love.
I hope I didn’t worry people too much, I thought explaining here would be easier than Instagram.