Don't Be An Ostrich

We all have special dates in our lives and today is mine. Three years ago today, I received a call back to my then GP, after being for scans the day before as I had pains and sickness. To get a next day call in is never good news, especially at 8.30 in the morning. I turned my car around, as I was on my way to work and did as the doctor had told me and went to see her straight away.

Not knowing what to expect but knowing it would not be good, I sat in a bit of a daze in the waiting room. She came out to greet me personally, rather than being called in and asked if I had anyone that could be with me? Now the panic really kicked in, as I explained that no, it was just me.
She was very good and came straight to the point and told me that the scan had picked up a tumour on my pancreas but it was not big, in it's very early stages and with treatments and probably a stent, it could be managed. I thanked her and nodded when she said that she would arrange everything. I went out to the car park, lit a cigarette and my only thoughts were how I was going to tell people.

I could not face work, so wandered around the antique shops in Lechlade (Cotswolds) and bought myself a Celtic Ring that jumped out at me. I sat in a tea room and just gazed into space, managed to drive home, without even remembering doing so and then I became an OSTRICH.
I denied to myself that there was anything wrong, and as I did not know about what a pancreas did, convinced myself that it would heal naturally.

Over the next few months, I ignored letters, phone calls and even a knock on the door from my doctor. I told nobody and just let myself carry on until the pain got so bad that I collapsed and ended up in hospital. The Doctor in A&E looked at me in disbelief when I told him what the problem was, put me on a drip and told me he did not think so, as I was too young. It was several hours later when they had got hold of my notes that the shame faced doctor came back and apologised. I was booked in with the specialist straight away and a course of treatment agreed. After 3 weeks of aggressive treatment, I felt much better and low and behold became an OSTRICH again.

Oh, how I wish now that I had continued with the treatment, listened to the experts and confided.
I have now fully accepted my treatments, interventions and prognosis but a couple of years too late.
Moral of my story, Don't be an OSTRICH, it does not go away.