15th April

Hubby went to work as he had already arranged a site meeting at 7.30 am. I dropped the youngest off with the in laws and left the eldest in bed as I was only going to be an hour or so. Picked hubby up from site and then spent a lifetime looking for a parking space at the hospital - you see the same cars driving around and around all day at that place as there only seems to be parking for 5 people at the max.

Went to the ward we were told to go to - saw that its title was Surgical Assessment Unit and thought this is weird. Went to reception - oh my god! The nurse in charge went into a rant -

"you should have come up last night"
"we were told to come this morning, the GP phoned"
"this makes us act like a clinic, but we are emergencies........"

and so it went on for about 5 minutes. She eventually apologies and said that it wasn't out fault but the doctor that the GP had spoken to etc, etc, etc!

He booked in was we were shown to a side room - the door was left open and we heard the nurse shouting out the contents of the letter - "SWOLLEN TESTICLE"

Another nurse came in - "can you tell me what the problem is, I can usually make out handwriting but even this letter has got me stumped".

So hubby went through the whole story - hit by child, felt a bit sick every now and again when they were caught, lump, no actual pain, normally healthy, had to admit that he called the pub every night for a crafty pint.

A young doctor came in just as the nurse was finishing filling out her form, but as the nurse was leaving asked hubby what the problem was and so he had to go through the whole story again from the start (why medical staff can't read their own records I don't know, I'm sure that it would save them half their day).

He then needed to examine him. It was very strange for me to sit there and watch a male doctor 'ferke' around with something that only I am allowed to touch!

He then sat us down and said that he felt that the lump was not due to the injury but it felt "very suspicious" and the hubby needed a scan - he would try to arrange it for today, but if not then it would be the next day. We were told to wait in the waiting room. At this point it was already 10am so I went to phone the in laws, hubby didn't want them to know what was happening so I just asked them to collect eldest from our house because I had been held up due to a miss-communication and no actual appointment had been made, so we just had to sit and wait.

As I was finishing my cigarette (I smoke, I know evil, evil, evil woman) the doctor came out, "is hubby here?" I replied that he was in the waiting room - " he must have gone the toilet then as I have just been down there, we can do the scan now - can you go and fetch him and meet me outside the x-ray department." So I rushed to the ward (only next door) to find hubby in the middle of 3 doctors and a nurse - what was going on, had I been out for an hour, checked my watch, no only a couple of minutes. The older doctor said urgent scan, so I broke in to say that the first doctor was waiting for us at x-ray, the nurse shushed me (shushed me!) so again I repeated that the first Doctor was waiting at x-ray to do the scan. So they let us go to x-ray. Asked hubby what was going on - "think they are trainees, all of them had a check including the 2 women".

Got round to the x-ray department and followed the doctor to the ultrasound rooms - "he needs to be checked in at reception" so we had to follow the Doctor around to reception for him to say hubby's name and to be told "OK". I have never had as much exercise as I had in that x-ray department. The woman doing the scan was ready for him, the room looked quite small and the doctor was also going in with him so I said I would wait outside.

It took about 10 minutes then we all walked back to the ward and back into the side room - this time the door was shut and the doctor sat with a stern look on his face.

"I am 90% certain that this lump is caner" I tried to hold hubby's hand but he was clamping his own thigh so tight that I could only hold his thumb. The doctor continued to talk "of any of the cancers, this is the best one to have as the success rate is so high. You will need surgery and an appointment with a specialist. You will also need some blood test, but I will leave you both alone for a moment."

He left and closed the door again - we have never hugged each other so tight in the 20 years we have been together. I cried a few tears, but hubby was being his usual self - nothing to worry about, it will be OK (hes a man).

After a few minutes, the doctor came back in - he had arranged an appointment with a specialist at the outpatients the next day but they will do the blood tests and a chest x-ray whilst we were there. He also explained that the testicle will have to be removed and that they wouldn't be able to say for definite until the tissue was examined. He continued to explain why a biopsy couldn't be carries out and that hubby would be subject to a meeting of different specialists to decide on the best course of action.

Whilst we were waiting for the blood tests, the gaggle of doctors from earlier came back round to the nurses desk and was questioning the first doctor about what was happening and if the news had been give. The older Doctor then cam in "you've been told the news, the specialist is currently in surgery and we are getting a message to him, it may be possible to remove the testicle today so you need to stay nil by mouth".

A student nurse came in to do the blood tests - now this is where I have to pretend that the hubby is one of the kids. He has even had a filling done without anaesthetic as he is scared stiff of needles. She was very good though and put him at ease whilst I held his hand and made jokes to keep him from looking and passing out. Hubby thought that they had taken 3 pints of blood whereas really I have bled more from a paper cut - but you know how men like to exaggerate size.

So there we were, sat in a waiting room in shock - we only went up to confirm a twisted bollock and we were facing the dreaded C word. The waiting room was only small with about 10 chairs and a telly. Daytime TV was on which I don't mind - it was driving the hubby nuts (excuse the pun) as the hospital had not upgraded to Sky and so he couldn't sit and watch sport news going over the same stories over and over again (I am thankful for small mercies - there is only so many times you can watch it without wanting to slit your wrists).

Hubby called his boss, and if you had listened to the call you would have thought that he was just having a splinter removed as he was so matter of fact about it

"Doesn't look like I will be in the rest of today or tomorrow as thy think its cancer, but just keep it to yourself. Speak to you later mate"

The room filled up quickly with patients and the people with them. Every time someone medical came in we all looked up with great expectation that it would be your name called, just to be let down when all they were doing was getting a drink of water from the machine in the corner. Occasionally someone was called, but a minute later, they were back looking even more bored.

We had been at the hospital about 3 hours when we thought it was best to call hubby's parents. They had after all had the youngest since 8.30 and gone to collect the eldest 2 hours earlier even though I though I would be back home around 10.30.

This call is where it hit home to hubby the seriousness of the situation. As he he explained to his Dad that they though it was cancer and not to say anything to the kids as we will explain to the eldest ourselves later tears appeared in his eyes. This is where I felt hopeless. I am always the one in control of a situation, taking control of everyone and everything and yet here I was, watching my husband, the father of my children and my best friend for the past 20 years in tears and all I could do was to hold him. I couldn't take it away to make it better; all I could do was to hold him.

After a quick face wash (after all it can't be the done thing for a man to have evidence that he has cried) we were back in the room of boredom. However, this time only for 1/2 hour before we were called - a porter was there with a wheelchair to take hubby for his chest x-ray. From the look on hubby's face as soon as he saw the wheels, the porter quickly realised not to offer it to him! He took us around and told us to make our own way back as the ward was only next door to the x-ray place.

Following another hour in the dreaded waiting room, which by now was packed, a female doctor fetched us out. She had spoken to the consultant and the operation would not take place today but we needed to wait and see him, hubby's name had also been added on to the list to be discussed this Friday. "Did we have any questions, and she explained everything?" Now normally, I would spend hours on the Internet, write down a list of questions and demand that all of them were answered. However, I had not been able to do anything other than listen to all the news and sit in limbo in the waiting room so we both just stood there shaking our heads. She then said that she needs to sort out a bed and went on her merry way.

This left us even more confused - were they keeping him in? Why were they keeping him in? I would have to go home and fetch him some things, but he doesn't even own any pyjamas as he sleeps in boxers - oh god that means I will have to run to a shop and buy some, he will also need some new slippers as his are a bit wiffy.

As he was no longer nil by mouth a tray of food was brought to him. Now in a surgical waiting room, most of the people there are not allowed to eat in case they need to have an operation so it wasn't very nice for the a tray of food to be brought in and for them to sit and watch someone else eat. They need not have worried from the looks of it. Roast chicken, stuffing, anaemic looking roast potato and instant mash. But shock of shocks for a hospital with posters everywhere about have 5 a day (hubby was even sat underneath one) there was not one vegetable on his plate. Hubby left most of it, he did say the rice pudding was alright once he managed to break the 3 inches of skin sat on top of it.

So once again we sat and waited. Every time we wanted a walk, get some fresh air we had to tell the nurses where we were going and how long we were going for - the kids at my school have more freedom.

I had to go and put another parking ticket on the car - its very expensive this hospital business at £2 a go for 4 hours. During my walk to the car I called my girly best friend. We met at university 7 years ago and have grown very close. I held her hand as she and her husband split up, hubby gives her daughter the stick that only a man can give and get away with (whilst the eldest looks on with passion in his eyes for his first true love - the daughter, not his dad). We are all going on holiday together this year and hubby is going to have to cope with 2 women, 2 teenagers and the youngest (I think that he is going to need tranquilisers by the end of the fortnight). This is where I broke down and cried my eyes out. All the emotion of the day so far poured out in one short phone call whilst smoking 3 cigarettes at once.

No matter how close I am to hubby, a girl needs her girl friend. A girl friend knows when to listen and when to offer support and this is exactly what she did for me in those precious 5 minutes. I was able to say everything that I wanted to say but was too scared to in front of hubby as I was supposed to be staying strong for him.

Back in the room we waited again for an hour when a nurse called him to a bay to take his blood pressure and temperature, asking him if he was in pain "never been in any pain" was the answer (once again, notes not being read). "Just waiting for a bed, shouldn't be too long". Again, we were left wondering, is he being kept in, why? In hindsight we should have asked the question but neither of us was thinking straight. So we went back to the boredom room.

I have never known time pass so slowly. So we didn't have to keep telling the nurses our every move, we took it in turns to have a walk. I was smoking so many cigarettes that I only had a couple left and although the hospital doesn't serve veg with its meals, they are the one thing that you can't buy from the shop who charges more for a bottle of water than the Ritz.

I went out again, smoking one of my precious last cigarettes whilst on the phone to hubby's mum. I would be coming home to collect some things for him and I will drop the boys off with my mum so they could visit him. All of a sudden hubby appears "they have said I can go home". Apparently within 2 seconds of my leaving the room he was called in by the first doctor and told that he could go home, not bother with the appointment made for the next afternoon and wait for a phone call following the meeting on Friday. He did apologise for the wait.

I was left even more confused - what was happening, one moment he was being rushed into a scan, bloods taken, x-rays, talk about surgery that day, talk about finding a bed and all of a sudden we were sent on our merry way and told to wait for a phone call.

We drive home in silence and called the pub for a quick drink - told the locals that hubby didn't have the van and I had to pick him up from work (we had to explain why we were in so early and had no children with us).

At hubby's parents house, we spoke in a whispered code so the eldest wouldn't pick up on what was being discussed. Hubby's dad asking him how long he had the lump and not had it checked out - but to be honest, as soon as he noticed it then he did ask me to make an appointment.

So we went home with the boys. We decided to tell the eldest that his dad had to have a testicle removed but not the reason why until we had more information, confirmation. So we took him into the kitchen and told him. His face was a picture - as you can imagine a teenage boy would not think this was so cool so as we explained that the incision would not be on the scrotum but on the groin. He seemed to take it in his stride after this and just asked what was for tea. Didn't feel like cooking so I went to the chippy, I ate one bite and left the rest, hubby saved his for later - the gannets ate every morsel of food on their plates.

Jase went up to the pub for a pint so I called my mum and told her what was happening and I ended up shouting at her - the relationship between my mum and I is complicated, as much as I love her we end up shouting at each other. As soon as we talk to each other, it quickly escalates in volume that would match the sound of a plane taking off. I sent my dad a text, asking to apologise to her for me then I called my sister and best friend. It is defiantly a woman thing to have to talk to everyone, no matter how often you have to repeat the same story. However, I think that some female traits are rubbing off on hubby as he called a close friend from work to tell him, but the conversation quickly turned to work and what jobs were on and who was going on each one.

Whilst hubby was up the pub, I did what I usually do when faced with something and went onto the Internet, looking up everything that mentions TC whilst also having a nosey around facebook (my latest online addiction). Hubby's mum was online, so checked that they were OK and had a little chat whilst watching the match. Seeing the beautiful man score the most amazing goal against Porto made me realise that life carries on.

Hubby came home, he had told another good friend who was in the pub about the day and whilst he was looking into the TV (pretending to watch the match but not taking anything in) he spoke quietly but thoughtfully about his feelings. This was a bit of a breakthrough as I was concerned that he was going to do his usual and bottle things up.