Devastating True-Life
I was suddenly dealt the unluckiest hand in my life yet…
Carrie Henderson, 40, from Balloch
Gathered around the living room table, the games were in full swing.
Kicking off our weekly games night with my children Mark, 23, Chloe, 21, Lee, 20, Mandy, nine, and my partner Kevin, 52, it was our favourite day of the week.
Of course, it was complete with sweets and popcorn, too.
While my son Paul, then eight months old, slept, we were waging war on the Monopoly board.
Shifting my silver token, I collected £200 for passing go. Only, I noticed Lee was holding a wad of cash behind his back.
‘Lee, I know what you’re doing!’
I laughed.
‘I’m not cheating!’ he yelled. Roaring with laughter, Lee threw his usual tantrum – he was always the most competitive.
While Monopoly was our favourite, we switched it up each week – playing Wet Head, Dobble and Monopoly Cheater’s Edition.
For years, I’d dedicated myself to being a full-time mum. But I’d recently started a part-time beauty therapy course.
Only, there was one thing holding me back.
Since having Paul, I had constant urine and ear infections, as well as leg pains and pelvic pains.
I was exhausted and struggling to keep up with family life – it was especially tough, tending to baby Paul, too.
I hadn’t experienced anything like it before, but I put it down to post-partum symptoms.
Maybe it’s the baby blues? Even on our family holiday to Sandylands Holiday Park in August 2022, I lounged on the sofa instead of playing Monopoly with the kids.
And a few weeks later, things got even worse.
Running to the toilet one day while chilling at home, I thought I’d wet myself.
Staring down into the toilet, I was horrified.
There was blood everywhere. When I wiped, it was thick, black and tar-like.
‘Kevin!’ I screamed. ‘I’m not imagining this, am I?’
Rushing into the bathroom with Mark and Chloe, they froze.
‘Mum, that’s not normal,’ Chloe warned me.
Alarm bells were ringing.
I’d been getting blood spotting after sex, too.
Heading to my GP the next day, I was so nervous.
‘Let’s do a smear test,’ my doctor said.
I can’t have one of those! I thought.
Being a bigger girl, I was afraid of smear tests. I wasn’t confident enough to get undressed.
So I always put them off. I’d had letters to remind me, but I always told myself I’d book them later.
The blood was thick and black
The last one I had was afew years before Paul was born – even the GP said I was overdue. Laying down, I braced myself. During the test, there was blood all over the table.
Fear flooded throu
