Oh...what an eventful couple of days.
I had been thinking lately that I had nothing to say, nothing of interest, nothing that you dear readers would be interested in. I think the Bastard has been listening in to my thoughts. So we can add eavesdropper to the list of undesirable habits it has, alongside squatter, life wrecker etc.
I spent all day Monday at our big city centre posh hospital sitting in Ambulatory Care. What is Ambulatory care? I have no idea, well no idea until during my 9 hour wait I Googled it. Googling stuff is my favourite boredom activity. Especially when sitting in a hospital waiting room. Apparently if you were interested it is a form of 'outpatient care that is medical care provided by a hospital on an outpatient basis' (google 2015).
The things I have learnt sitting in a waiting room with my friend Google....
Anyway I digress, I had two ultrasounds that I had to wait a while for, very busy hospital, neither of which showed any blood clot but still I have a swollen right leg. They did find that my right kidney is swollen. Something is obstructing it slightly. This threatened a stay in my second home the Freeman Hospital for a potential stent change. To be frank they can take it, I don't like it, it is hurting me. But this is not good at the moment as I have booked and paid for tickets to attend a tutorial in Sheffield. So I felt upset. Then after contacting my urology team they decided they would not need to. I just need to live with the pain instead and accept 72 hours open access in case things worsen. Fine my me. I will ramp up the painkillers. Another stock of my precious days given over the NHS. I nearly said wasted then but it isn't. It isn't wasted because it is keeping me alive. So just given over. I cannot blame the staff, they were very kind, they were very apologetic in fact. Still it was given over.
Today was the first day of my second round of treatment. My chemoradiation. I should have realised it wasn't go to go well when I realised I had read the wrong schedule and missed my chemo appointment this morning. I rang and apologised profusely. No bother they said come up now. 11.30 am. Some sensible part of me made me grab a sandwich on the way in. Glad I did. More waiting. Couldn't feel bad as I was already very late for my appointment. Got on the day unit and then the fun started. My veins you may remember are not the best well today they really did me over. After five attempts nothing. nada. zip. Not a vein was to be had. I wasn't that stressed surprisingly. I would have been if I had realised what this may have meant. Kind oncology sister rang Dr Oncologist for advice. Dr Oncologist told her I would be stressing and he would sort something out. I wasn't as I said. I should have. He kindly sent me a lovely chatty radiologist Dr with his lovely ultrasound machine. Oh. They are going to scan for a vein then tell the nurse where to stab me. ohhhh ho ho no. He then proceeded to give me a dose of local anaesthetic in my arm which was not pleasant. This allowed him to really dig about to get the needle in a decent vein. I will not lie. It hurt. Might not bother others but it hurt me. My newly earnt relaxation skills care of my NCT degree course came in handy. I breathed through the pain. He finished. There was quite a lot of blood. Never mind. He got the mid line. Chemo is a go go. They duly injected me with Mytomicin which is a lovely shade of blue. I will either glow or be a smurf by tomorrow I am sure. Also a dose of anti sickness, fingers crossed the nausea doesn't strike again had enough of that last time. The they set the second drug up, Fluorouracil, in a bottle. This I carry around with me for the rest of the week. In bed, on the train tomorrow, shopping etc etc...
Bored yet? Then down to radiotherapy. I was an hour late for them as a knock on of the chemo difficulties. Met by a very smiley and friendly radiologist who put me on a very hard unforgiving table, lined me up and shouted numbers at each other whilst something resembling the star gate moved gently around me. I had also explained that I cannot have my treatment tomorrow. This does not compute. Dr Oncologist is rung again. We decide I will have two treatments on Thursday to make up for it, it is that or add them on at the end but apparently this might mean the treatment is not as effective. Unfortunately for me my bladder was too small(?) it needs to be the same size as the time I last had a scan. Bit of a precise art this like. So I am sent out to have a drink and let it fill up a bit. Back in more numbers and a scan then we are good to go. I am staring at a ceiling. Someone has had the forethought to install a pleasant scene of treetops and bright blue summer sky within the ceiling. Not that I could look at it. I had read that I should not look at the beam as it could harm your eyes. So I closed them. Needlessly I am sure.
Now. Today, today was the first day I really felt like shouting at them all. All the sympathetic faces to just leave me alone. It was the first day I really felt like a piece of meat to be prodded, poked and stabbed. Even though all the staff were accommodating and kind. I still felt it. I wanted to tear out all the lines, get off the stiff table and rip the Bastard out myself (along with the stent) and just walk away. Only that is not really an option is it? As soon as I felt it the faces and voices of my children and A came to me. This means that I will willingly lay there and let them stab, prod, poke, poison and blast me until they can no more.
Doesn't mean I have to like it.
Sorry for War and Peace there but the blog is therapeutic and it feels better it all being there purged on 'paper'. I am assured the rest of the sessions will be easier. I am sure they will be.
Just have to hope that next time the stargate doesn't send me somewhere with some hostile aliens......oh wait....
