Carry on Cancer (I've got my cat)

Fast forward to November 2017 - 7 days incarcerated A trip to hospital for a surgical procedure is generally planned to at least a certain extent. You know in advance when you'll be admitted and the expected duration of your stay. Unless you're me. After a whirlwind diagnosis of partial spinal cord compression and a crumbling vertebrae, my life suddenly went mad. Phone calls and emails between medical personnel were obviously made, yet they somehow failed to include me in these communications, leaving me in a state of stress knowing that I had something seriously wrong with me, but not what and when something was going to be done to fix it. There were certainly hints at procedures and timescales, but nothing concrete was forthcoming. All I knew was that I felt a considerable sense of urgency. If something wasn't done SOON, there was a high chance I could become paralysed from the waist down. After a week of going back and forth on the phone with various doctors, nurses