17 June 2009 - So here I sit with a freezing cold helmet on my head, an IV line in a vein in my wrist into which a very nice ward sister is pumping syringes of dark red liquid. There are four of these huge syringes and she is only on the first one. Up to this point in the day I have had blood tests, been weighed, measured, had my temperature, pulse and blood pressure taken, have been given an extremely nice and very healthy lunch, given tea and coffee when ever I want it, seen my consultant and signed a consent form, had a long talk about the process I am going through from a pregnant staff nurse, had a canula inserted in my arm, been given anti sickness drugs and steroids and now here we go with the serious stuff.
Perhaps I should back track and explain how I got here. This is the tale of my left boob.
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