So in my usual stubborn attitude I got myself out of hospital as soon as possible. Like a little kid on the back seat of a car asking "Are we there yet" I was asking (probably more demanding) "Can I leave yet" One of the best pieces of advice I've received from a doctor was right at the beginning of my treatment was if you act like a patient you'll be a patient. When ever I've stayed in hospital I've always woken up had a shower and got changed into my won clothes. I never stayed in bed and always tried to leave as soon as possible.
Again Heine sight is a wonderful thing... the combination of chemotherapy drugs mini BEAM which is administered for Grayzone Lymphoma (Grey Zone Lymphoma) as an inpatient over the course of 5 days was so much stronger than the R-CHOP. With my brazen viking confidence combined with my yogi zen like state I managed to get discharged a few days after the treatment had finished.
Strictly following the neutropenic diet and resting I felt I was on the road to recovery, no such luck. A week after I was discharged (when normally you should still be in hospital) I was due to go back for some blood test to check my blood count specifically neutrophils which are the cells which help fight off infection (essentially your immune system). I'd woken up really tired but I'd put it down to chemo fatigue. You know that general feeling of no energy, so I went back to sleep and delayed my appointment from 11am to 1pm. My girlfriend who has more of an intuition for this knew something wasn't quite right so called my mum to keep an eye on me.
1pm came around and I was even more tired so my mum bundled me in a Uber (don't judge Londoners!) and he rushed me to the chemo day unit.
As soon as I stepped out of the uber my legs went, my mother, god bless her is not the most agile of individuals managed to drag this big bearded hulk to the front door to the day unit. I'll never forget the faces of the nurses, I was slipping and they knew it, it was defcon 1. Immediately I found my self in a chair seeing my vitals slipping dangerously low. My heart beat was slowing my blood pressure was non existent (and I have naturally high blood pressure). My arms were full of cannulas pumping me full of blood transfusions, antibiotics and platlet transfusions. I just remember saying to my self "Keep your eyes open Tom, keep your eyes open. This isn't how it ends" I could see my mother through the corner of my eye "I'm not letting my mother see her own son die"
This is why I will say and keep saying that half the battle is in your mind I could feel ebony tendrils of death looping round me waiting to drag me over the Styx but you keep your eyes open and say "fuck cancer" - "I want life, life!"
Within which what seemed like a life time but was probably only 45mins I stabilised I was taken upstairs reluctantly in a wheel chair after protesting I was going to walk up. And started the darkest week of the whole treatment. Neutropenic Sepsis... it ain't nice and certainly not cheeky, my chief nurse (the fantastic Arvin Panes) said 20 more mins and my organs would have started to fail. I'd dodged a bullet. By the end of this all I've dodged more bullets than Neo from The Matrix...
