Kitty's 95% Problem.

Today is Monday, and as previously notified on this blog, Monday was expected to sound the knell that summoned me to heaven or to hell (with a 95% chance it would be hell.) Ever since I got the dreaded letter last Friday I’ve felt like a kitten locked in a cage with a dozen hungry but sleeping Rottweilers who will be wanting their breakfast when they wake up.

It wasn't as funny as you might think, but the day didn’t quite turn out as expected anyway. Here is a brief summary of how it did turn out:

1. The CT scan showed something loitering in one of my kidneys and the consultant is 95% certain it’s cancer, but he can’t be absolutely certain until he puts a probe in under a general anaesthetic.

2. Such a probe will be part of a surgical procedure which will culminate in the removal of the whole kidney if cancer is confirmed.

3. Before he can do that he has to establish that the presumed cancer hasn’t spread to my lungs, which means I have to have yet another CT scan on my chest.

4. If cancer does show up in the lungs, the permutations become complex and very disturbing. I prefer not to think about that possibility, so I’ll try not to.

How’s that for succinctness?

It seems the most likely scenario is the relatively simple one of removing the kidney. I gather having two kidneys is unnecessary because the body can function perfectly well with one, but I asked the most pressing question anyway: will I still be able to drink alcohol with only one kidney? ‘Yes,’ said the surgeon, ‘in moderation.’ There are times when even I am not stupid enough to request a clinician’s definition of ‘moderation.’ But there are other problems.

I was told that after such an operation the patient has to avoid any kind of strenuous activity for a period of three months, and that includes driving. So how am I supposed to live in a village for three months with no shops and no bus service and the nearest town located seven miles away? And if driving is forbidden, what about vacuuming the carpet, mopping the quarry floors, and making the bed? Etc, etc, etc. As for my country cottage garden, it will surely morph into an environment suited only to a menagerie of wild and dangerous creatures.

What really concerns me, though, is how the remaining kidney will deal with the loss of his beloved twin. Will he grieve and be very upset for a very long time? This is important.

Further developments will be notified. The wait goes on. The kitten escaped the canine jaws on this occasion, but there’s another cage waiting for him a little way down the line.