Monday July 4th
An appointment at the hospital to find out the results of the biopsy on the tongue. (A small piece of tongue was removed for analysis. It was then stitched. I was tongue-tied — literally.)
The logical part of me knows it it likely to be good news, there’s nothing wrong. Although I was told to expect six to eight weeks for the results, going the full eight has to be good, the NHS prioritises serious cases, so it is being called in early that is worrying. It’s been a long wait, which has to be good.
The worrying part of me though starts taking over. Especially as it is a household double medical booking, my wife, Linda, had already set out for a hospital in Bradford for a breast scan. Routine, but still worrying.
But the logical side is winning, I’m calm.
We communicate by text message:
Her: More ducklings in the park. First X-ray done. Been checked by doctor as it’s first time checking from original.
Me (an hour later): Is it done yet?
No. Waiting for biopsy now, found 5mm of calcium.
Me (later): Any news yet?
Just finished. To come back next Monday for results.
Before she returns I go for my appointment. I arrive early. After one hour of waiting I see the doctor: I was right, it’s nothing. Merely inflammation caused by the tongue rubbing against a molar that is growing at an angle, inwards. I have to see my dentist to have the tooth smoothed out, and the next dental appointment in August will do.
So that’s it. I’m fine, and the waiting for results has transferred to Linda. I will update when we find out.