Hospital visit.... Hmmmm!

"That's an improvement". I thought as I partially stripped and donned the two 'bum exposing' hospital gowns. The two worn together render you decently adorned. Last time I was in hospital for treatment you only got one and exposure of rearward facing body parts was unavoidable.
The waiting around is always nerve wracking and however nervous you are about a procedure facing you I always find it a relief to be called through and led once again through the tick box filling of confirming I am who I say I am.
Next moment I am lying on my left side having the Gastroscopy details explained to me. The back of my throat is spray anesthesised while teeth clamp a plastic protector. For me the discomfort of having the little finger sized camera probe thrust down my throat is easily overcome as I follow the nurses words encouraging relaxing and slow breathing. Regular meditation practice has its uses, this being one of them.
What really discounted any nervous discomfort though, was the amazing and full colour pictures that appeared on the visible screen in front of my eyes. To travel a highly visible journey down your own throat is different and to me, fascinating. To see the scope slow down and hear the highly skilled doctor pause her verbal discourse as a large pink cauliflower blockage is encountered was to me, both expected and confirming while at the same time disappointing and life changing. I could'nt speak with mouth clamped and throat full of Endescope but mind eloquently and silently summed it up with "Shit, that there cauliflower is big trouble!"
I continued to observe as wee snippers were fed down the Endescope and tissue samples taken for biopsy. All in all a fascinating and highly professional video show experience the reality of which I have never before experienced.
What followed, though still highly and compassionately professional, was more familiar in that it had unnerving similarities to a previous, long and difficult journey with my late wife.
The quiet professional voice, the outlining of the next stage, the checking in on my mental state and the gentle enquiry as to support structure etc.
To put it bluntly a 90% indicated certainty of Oesophagal cancer was, despite all the positives of the experience, not conducive to me resuming my day quite as positively as I had hoped and wished for.
The mind races, it storms, it rages and it works through every scenario of possibility or impossibility. It is exhausting. The storming journey has to be travelled though before a different normality can be resumed, which, temporarily and thankfully it has. A normality of acceptance has been reached which is to make no major decision until all information gathering is complete, and there is a few more weeks to go on that one yet.
I have decided, for now, to accept the 'don't know' of it all and to take extra good care of myself.
Which,
right now,
means clear away the breakfast and head off to Strathclyde Park for a good Tanya walk in the sunshine before the rain returns as per the forcast.

NB- Apologies if this is a bit of a shock to you dear reader. But I have made one other decision. Writing this Blog helps and supports my mental wellbeing. It allows me a different perspective and, I hope, is readable/acceptable to you. If that should be the case then I am happy. Thanks.