Friday, 5 June 2009

It Slooshes When I Walk

Nick gives me a cuddle. I turn over to snuggle up to him and I hear it: a kind of sloshing, like water inside a bucket, but muted. ‘Shh,’ I say. “Can you hear that?” “Hear what?” says Nick. “It’s a slooshing sound. It’s coming from inside me,” I whisper. “I think you’re imagining that darling,” says Nick.

Nick brings me a cup of tea. If there is one thing in the world that is guaranteed to make me feel loved it is being brought tea in bed. I sit up to accept the cup. “There it is again,” I say. “I can’t hear anything,” says Nick. “It’s coming from my breast,” I say. I’m quite alarmed now. Nick looks at me, wondering how far to indulge this anxiety. “It must be your stomach,” he says. I’ll get you some breakfast.

After breakfast in bed I finally haul myself up and into the bathroom. As I walk down the corridor the sound is more pronounced. “There!” I gasp in horror. “You know, maybe there is something,” says Nick. I phone the hospital immediately and get through to Honoria, the breast care nurse.

“I was just about to call you,” she says, “how are you getting along?” “It slooshes when I walk!” I squeak, realising how mad that sounds. “Oh, that’s quite normal,” she replies, “it’s fluid build-up in your breast.”