Either way, the last week has felt like I was an outcast, not quite locked-me-up-and-threw-away-the-key outcast but when people approach you (even your wife) sporting yellow aprons and white gloves and the catering staff take your food order from the safety of the doorway, you know it's not just because you haven't had a good wash.
So I whiled away the rest of the week on C4 - in a sideroom, granted, trying to build my strength up and get over the Norovirus, septicemia and other ailments left over from Chemo Phase 2 in time to tackle the next lot. I had, rather naively, looked at the chart and thought 'maybe I'll get a good few days at home at the end of this one'. It wasn't to be, sadly, and I have rather resigned myself to exeat weekends and days off here and there are going to be few and far between.
Stille Nacht (Silent Night)
...and rather quite days too. My ear continues to be my biggest problem. It started with a ringing in the left ear a couple of weeks ago, and that uncomfortable 'bubble' feeling when you've been swimming and can't equalise the pressure. This has now built up to total deafness in that ear, accompanied by pressure which varies from quiet discomfort to requiring painkillers. ENT confirmed that it needed sorting, when they were busy stuffing tampons up my nose last week, and suspected a slight ear infection too, so prescribed drops for that as well as drops to soften the wax - prior to being syringed. I place the latter phrase in italics because this has become the main obsession in my life since.
Eventually, in the nick of time before the whole ENT dept shut for the weekend. I was allocated a slot at 6.30pm on Friday. Presumably the last appointment so they could sluice the room down afterwards, just in case. However, a quick courtesy call from my ward sister to ENT to check that they knew I was infectious and was that still ok, put paid to that; not because they said no, but because they said they would check and call back. Yep, you guessed it - no call back. So there was I, back in quiet limbo with the whole weekend to look forward to and an ear that was now starting to cause other problems like dizziness - the kind you only usually experience after eight pints of HSB but thankfully shortlived.
One of my docs prescribed an anti-depressant because she declared my 'morale' as low. Like a good chap I took it. Coincidence or not I immediately started feeling sick and forced meals down. I unprescribed myself after a couple of days and the nausea has gone.
A positive move
I had two surprise visits during the week, both from nurses from my old ward upstairs, D3, declaring they had missed me and hadn't a clue where I had been sent when I came back in last week! It also seems, as suspected, that they would much prefer to have me back on D3 to start Chemo #3 next week as C4 only has two chemo nurses and neither of them are familiar with my regime. And they're busy and not necessarily around. So Sunday night saw me packing my stuff up yet again and being transported upstairs where, due to my 'infectious' label I am luckily back in a sideroom - my fourth on this ward. The chances of me staying here are slim, I know, but I'm making the most of the luxury. It's actually good to be back in familiar, friendly surroundings.
 |
| Prof Peter Johnson - head man |
I'm not sure whether Dr Davies, my normal head honcho, is on holiday, but twice now the docs rounds have been headed up by the big man himself, Prof Peter Johnson, who is charm personified. He quietly oozes authority (a whispered word from him gets things done that might require you or I to start bellowing). This morning, which is effectively Day 1 of Round 3, he managed to find in minutes an otoscope to look in my ears, which would have taken anyone else a month of Sundays. He confirmed that my right ear is fine and the left, whilst infection-free, 'needs gentle syringing' now the wax has been softened. Bless him, how could he know I am on the cusp of issuing a formal complaint against the ENT department for negligence? Let's hope his quiet authority extends to ENT. The back up plan is that Marie-Christine, a very caring and pleasant Belgian registrar, has kindly offered to do it herself if all else fails - today!
 |
| An otoscope - in short supply it would seem |
Skype
Love it or hate it when it works, it's great - and has been a real boon in the past week staying in touch, especially with Sally, who nearly always seems to have Rosie perching somewhere in the background, ears twitching to a familiar voice. Trouble is when Skype suddenly locks you out for no reason it's the devil's own job getting back in. Out of my three devices - laptop, iPad and iPhone, only the phone seems to let me in and I am reluctant to start messing with passwords etc in case it locks me out of that one too. I suppose I could just start a new account but then no-one will know it. I'm sure I'll find a way round it but it is quite a lifeline, as not everyone has FaceTime.
 |
| Rosie gets in on the action and recognises a familiar voice |
Keeping in touch
As well as skype there is facebook, fb messaging, twitter (@David_Cradduck) email, text and of course, this blog. Trying to keep up with well meaning enquiries from people who either are not on facebook or haven't read the blog can be a bit of a challenge so apologies if I don't necessarily respond. Sometimes Chemo Brain doesn't allow such a complex activity, other times it is awkward timing; 'procedures' such as being connected to drips, having obs done, ear drops and dinner arriving all coincide; at that point someone tries to Skype me. Sod's Law.
The Fundraiser
I am just bowled over; the one, big positive this week has been the fundraiser for The Lymphoma Association. When I launched it, only about five weeks ago, I set a target of £5,000 thinking that despite it being a tad high we have plenty of time. Little did I dream we would hit halfway point within two weeks and - Sunday night (last night of November) we would burst past the target and beyond. A profound thank you to everyone who has donated, grown moustaches, gone without alcohol for a month or otherwise put themselves out for this good cause.
So on their behalf, thank you and if you want to check the latest out, check out the Virgin Giving page.
Another great blog and don't hesitate to issue a complaint about ENT - feedback is the only way to make improvements in what appears to be a broken system. Otoscopes rare? I bet every GP has one in their black bag. Hospitals must surely have one on each ward.
ReplyDelete