So I had my eye check up yesterday.  There was no fear or anxiety attached to this appointment. More just a moan that I had to travel to Harley street in the rain. Don’t you just love a British summer?

My husband asked me how I was feeling?  Fine, I replied, I’ve had no flickering or flashing and I haven’t noticed my eye sight deteriorating. So that’s all good isn’t it? I’m not worried at all. And I really wasn’t. I had more pressing matters on my mind.

I told my husband that it’s been two years since I was diagnosed. Two years ago I didn’t think I would ever be able to walk into an appointment feeling relaxed, two years ago I  didn’t  think I’d sleep properly ever again. Two years ago I wondered whether I would still be here or not and was hoping just to get my youngest out of primary school. But two years later here I am.

One year ago I started this blog. I thought I’d get bored quite quickly, run out of things to say, or find no one was interested in reading it, but one year later, here I am still waffling on. “So what’s the problem?” he asked, not really following my trail of thought. “What’s the problem?!” I retorted. “I wanted to have a celebratory birthday blog, it’s a year old, I’m two years down the line, everything’s good. I wanted to put a radiant photo (with lots of filter usage!) of myself  celebrating. But some f**ker thought it would be bloody hilarious to give me a great big STYE!!! I can’t put a photo of this on my blog, it will put people off their food!” He laughed as he went back to reading some financial crap. I wanted to shake him by the shoulders and shout how can you read about the worlds’ economy when I am sitting her with puss about to ooze from my eye?! But I didn’t. I left him to it, as I sat waiting to be called into my appointment, wondering whether to leave the stye well alone  or whether to perform some home surgery on it with a sterilised needle?

When I was eventually called up to see my ocular oncologist, she smiled at me, came over and asked how I was.  I could see her just staring at the monstrosity hanging from my eye lid. It’s one of those elephant in the room moments, do I answer her relating to my cancer or do I acknowledge this mammoth boil on my face? I decided it couldn’t be ignored. “Oh good, yes, other than this stye.” I laughed although I found it far from hilarious. “Umm” She replied, her eyes hadn’t moved from the spot since I walked into the room. “Maybe with all the massage form the ultrasound it might help it,” she offered encouragingly. Great, now I was thinking it was going to pop all over her bloomin ultrasound machine and I would have to sit and watch her wipe my pus off it! I sat at her desk ready for the questions about my eye cancer, but no, it was back to the stye. She recommended something she thought would speed up its demise. She wrote it for me on a card and even had a little feel. Did she want to squeeze it? I felt a little nauseaus.

Eventually, eventually we all managed to ignore the stye and concentrate on the real reason I was here. You will be pleased to know everything is stable. There is a tear in my retina, where the scar from radiotherapy was. This was a new but pretty irrelevant development. But it did make me think, after two years the radiation is still causing mayhem to my eye, it’s pretty potent stuff. My eye sight is remarkably good considering what has gone on there. I was told I would be blind in that eye within two years and I’m not. Sight not great out of that eye, but it’s not bad. The tumour is inactive which is the most important fact.  I will be back to see her in four months so can relax and enjoy the pissy British summer.

I couldn’t  go home and celebrate with bubbles as I am trying the 5:2 diet. Me and my stye sat with a peppermint tea catching up on ‘Line of Duty’ to celebrate. Today the bugger is no smaller and as I am meeting a friend for dinner tonight and don’t want to put her off her meal and I am having a starring role at my 15 year old nieces’ confirmation on Sunday, I am off to sterilise a needle.  I could just about face my consultant with the stye, I cannot face a group of 15 year olds questioning my niece on what her aunty has hanging from her eye lid! So home surgery it is.

Until then I shan’t be sharing my radiant stye photo with anyone, instead I have shared a photo of my dog Barney as he is so handsome and doesn’t have a stye and my ignorant princess Rosie, who likes to keep an eye on what I write and the birds outside. She also doesn’t have a stye. Until next time, have a glass of bubbles for me. Cheers! xx