Chapter 13 - The Great Escape

The late, great Steve McQueen in The Great Escape.

Lots of good-natured banter around the subject of my 'escaping' for the weekend - providing my body is behaving itself so lots of finger crossing and touching of wood laminate. The idea is (or was) to have my antibiotic (for my swollen arm which is now a lot better) and then make my escape around midday, armed with medication required for the evening including an injection in my tummy - the anticoagulant that is hopefully, gently sorting out my clot.

A Waste of a Good Satsuma
Apparently practising injections on tummies is not a good idea without having a stab (!) at a satsuma first. Grab a wadge of satsuma which resembles in size, texture and everything except colour the male human tum, and practise on that instead. Surprisingly easy really, but it's not recommended to eat the satsuma afterwards. Tried it out on the real thing too - and I am now fully qualified to give myself the dreaded injection each night at 6pm.

Sally wasn't able to pick me up much before Friday midday in any case and I was ready and eager to get out when she did arrive. A quick detour to pick up a bottle of Hendricks Gin for our long suffering friends and helpers Sian and David (perhaps a bit cruel on Sian as she is on 'Dry November' as part of the fundraiser) and it was Home Sweet Home once again.

No caption required.

The good news is that, apart from going back in on Saturday and Sunday mornings for my antibiotic, I am free to stay overnight at home. Brilliant news. The bad news is that as well as the antibiotic they also want to give me two blood transfusions on Saturday - each one taking two hours! So we re-arranged for me to go back in at 8am instead of 10am, though even then it would take five hours without any delays.

The family arrives
Travelling separately, each from work, Lizzie and boyfriend Matt arrived home - only for the evening as they are off early on Saturday morning. But good to see them nonetheless. My appetite, helped along by the temptation of real, tasty food, has returned and a chilli/Bolognese with tortellini and a warm bread roll was ideal, washed down with lime and soda water while we watched The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel on DVD. A lovely, gently amusing film, a bit like Quartet in some ways and again featuring the older set of great actors - Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson, Penelope Wilton. A roaring wood burner, the dog, the family around me and a comfy sofa; what more could a chap want? Actually I remembered later - a soft bed and fluffy duvet!

Back on the road again, early in the morning.

An Early Start
Far too early, really - no time for any proper breakfast, just a quick shower and off back to Southampton. Of course it was rather inevitable that I was greeted by "We weren't expecting you 'til 10!" and other various comments about antibiotics not being written up for the morning, not mixed up, blood somewhere but not sure where etc. and an extremely frustrating hour and a half delay before I was hooked up to Horace. At this rate I could see me being there 'til mid afternoon.

The other inevitable news is that, for the third time, I have lost my side (private) room. Having anticipated this I had suggested perhaps that I pack my stuff up in readiness - take cards off walls etc and remove any surplus stuff - but was advised against this on the grounds it might actually invite such an eviction. But it happened anyway because of 'an emergency' so somewhere, locked in the Sister's office, are copious carrier bags with all my belongings, which I feel rather guilty that someone had to sort and pack.

Still feeling demob happy, I wasn't really too bothered about the loss of the room. At this stage of my treatment I am reasonably healthy with a good immune system (red cells are down a bit hence the transfusions) and determined to make the best of the respite before the chemo starts again on Cycle no. 2 on Monday. My main concern was 'escaping' again and not letting the morning eat into the rest of the day. The compromise reached - thanks, Sister Naomi - was to split the two blood transfusions across Saturday and Sunday, which then meant I could get out at a reasonable time, around midday, both days.

Blood!
Sitting there receiving someone else's blood, I couldn't help wondering whose it was - and whether I might start adopting their characteristics. So long as they are not some kind of psychopathic weirdo, that's all...

I am, of course, grateful beyond words to whoever it was who gave up their valuable lunch time to give their armful of red stuff in exchange for a cup of sweet tea and a couple of ginger nuts. But guilty I am not. I gave over 50 pints of my own over the years and would have given a whole load more if I hadn't developed hypertension in my 50s. Many pints over many years and hopefully they all went to good homes too.

The Great Escape Act 2
So once I had been given the red stuff, received my meds for the evening again and bid my find farewells to my warders, I was off again. Poor old Sally, she has doubled the mileage on her car recently. Again, as we approached Cheriton from the A272, I felt a great wash of relief pass over me and we got back in plenty of time to get snuggled down for the afternoon and light the fire etc before dear Zoe turned up (in her brilliant new Golf) for the afternoon. A foul day so no guilt at adopting the reclining sofa position again. Tom, who had been at a brewery tour at Ringwood Brewery, arrived around tea time sporting takeaway beer and homemade cupcakes - and my belated birthday presents of smart new Crew legging sweats and warm PJ bottoms.

A sofa afternoon. So far, so good.

No pics, I fear, but we even made it to the Flower Pots at 6pm for another dose of normality and a ginger beer shandy. Jo Bartlett is joining Sian in 'Dry November' and putting the proceeds into a pot for the Lymphoma Association fundraiser - thanks, Jo - and Paul T is now sporting eight days of (grey) moustache for which he has already raised £100 to go to the same place. Good on you, both.

The usual 'Friday night' crew appeared, probably because it was Sue Masser's birthday on Sunday. There was the Masser family, the Kingsfords (Nick has joined Twitter but has only ONE follower! Please follow him if you're on Twitter - @Nick_Kingsford), The Bishop family and John Hankin, whose lovely wife Jane is suffering from bone cancer. We made our way home about 7pm. Zoe dropped us back (mightily impressed by her car - so quiet!) and she went on to her house. Tom stayed with us and overnight; another great meal - chicken breast wrapped in bacon with cheese, wedges, and sweet corn. So tasty. Add two hours of Lewis and another lovely, simple evening at home appreciating the simple pleasures that Home offers.

Sunday morning - recapture and re-escape!
A much more leisurely and civilised start, even allowing time for some bacon and scramble egg. More organised this morning and blood/antibiotic done, I was out of there by 12.15pm. Lots of facebook jokes about tunnels and "did they find the glider, made from old lollipop sticks, under the bed?". Sally and Tom had spent the (sunny) morning at her parents, scraping moss from a roof and various other jobs. Of course it started raining once I arrived; thank goodness for that, I'm not sure I'm up to cleaning roofs and gutters right now.

Sunday lunch at Wellow means at least two things - excessive warmth from roaring wood burner and excessive but always delicious food. Today was no exception: roast beef, Yorkshire pud, roast potatoes and and all the usual vegetables. Really, very tasty and hardly time to squeeze in tea and crumpets at 5pm before recapture at 6pm to give Pam and Ted time to recover (they do get tired easily and so they should at 86 and 87) and Sally the chance to get home in reasonable time. Tom had departed at 4-ish back to London - the drive took him nearly three hours, always a really slow journey back on a Sunday evening poor chap. But he did have time to give my hair a grade 2 - meaning that I

Tom finds new skills as a hairdresser.

already look pretty bald so as I lose the rest of it it won't notice so much.

Back in clink
So it's back to hospital and attempting to sort all my bags of stuff from my old side room. I have decanted three bags of DVDs, books and various stuff I really don't need and haven't got room for and hopefully they can go back home with someone before Sally comes in on Wednesday. I am on the same open ward as before - but the middle bed of three. There is no daylight and no room, just a bed, a locker and a seat. A reasonable night's sleep (although I do still seem to be getting up for a lot of wees). Made good use of blindfold and ear plugs.

R-IVAC
The next set of chemo has just been explained to me by Marie-Christine, the Registrar who amongst other things administers my lumbar injections. She is Belgian and very sweet, explains things thoroughly and is very patient with me and my lack of medical knowledge.

I won't go into detail but the bottom line is that the chemo involves three main chemo drugs plus a couple of others which protect certain areas like the bladder, from infection. The side effects will be much the same as the first lot, with possible conjunctivitis and rash thrown in.

What is different is that they might chuck me out next weekend (day 6/7), for the rest of the 21 day cycle. In other words providing I am not really poorly I might just as well be convalescing at home in comfort rather than being in a hospital surrounded by potential infectious hazards. So fingers crossed.

Sounds good to me!

So long, Dad, see you next time you escape! R.