Sunday 17 January 2010

Yesterday was spent mainly sleeping and in the moments I was awake I was not inclined to write. Late Friday I started to get a sore throat, it worsened through the day yesterday and come this morning it felt like I was swallowing razorblades. A doctor who came to see me on Saturday had a look but did not seem overly concerned. "The inside of your throat is a little red, but there's no puss." he offered cheerfully. Before then adding that I couldn't make puss even if I wanted to.

The throat is now calming down and the used cannula holes in my arm that yesterday lay dormant have now swollen a little and itch like buggery. I'm hoping that these are all signs that I have an immune system that is waking up. That neutrophils are being made and that they are slowing swilling round my body doing stuff, fighting infection, repairing wounds. I could very easily, of course, be wrong. I have no medical training. No idea about molecular biology. I am merely clutching at straws, hoping that tomorrow they'll find cause to release me back into the wild.

In the absence of any hospital solution my water is now being brought in by my wife. Glass Perrier bottles containing cool, but once boiled, tap water. I simply couldn't stomach the sterile water they were giving me and am sure that it had enough plastic content to induce something even worse than what I have already. To not drink anything could damage my kidneys as they try to dispose of a gazillion dead hairy cells and a noxious concoction of anti-viral and antibiotic drugs. If your pee starts looking like coca cola it really is time to hydrate some more.

My brother has sent in his PSP so what with the laptop, camera, audio recorder, phone, broadband stick, and Bose headphones I now have enough kit here to start up a small electrical retailer. Given that I cannot leave the room I am pretty confident however that none of it will get swiped. If I was on an open ward I would probably be sleeping with it all under my blankets. Having moved into my room in a small rucksack I think I am going to need a suitcase when it finally comes to moving out.

Lack of stimulation then is not my real cause of boredom. It is lack of connection, connection with the outside world. I watch people pass in the car park below yet feel no association. It has snowed, rained, and been sunny whilst I have been in here and yet my room remains at a constant temperature. The only means of escape I have found is to slowly compile a list of the things to do when I get out of here. The top ten simple things.

2 comments:

  1. Hi Rich,

    I also had setbacks, but the overall trend was upwards toward a remission that has lasted now for two and a half years and counting. I am living and enjoying life.

    I think you should tell an empathetic physician how you are feeling, that you feel disconnected. A degree of stress, anxiety and depression are the order of the day for anyone undergoing the ordeal of a protracted hospital stay. However, I firmly believe that for those of us treated with Cladribine these feeling are exacerbated in the short term by having been administered a chemotherapeutic agent that has at least some degree of neurotoxicity. Actually, it would seem to be a triple whammy: hospital stay; emotional roller coaster and drama of dealing with neutropenic fevers; as well as dealing with what some people refer to as “chemo brain”. Who wouldn’t feel absolutely awful? My sense is that the hip replacement patient isn’t looking out the window feeling some sort of a dissociative (or whatever is they call it)state of mind. These doctors should really treat our minds too, or refer us to someone who can, while they are treating our bodies for HCL.

    Anyway, that’s my humble opinion. Others may differ. I have no medical training either. I will say though that feeling psychologically better was more a function of time than location, though I was of course thrilled when I got to go home after thirteen days. Everyone is different, but for me it took a couple of weeks to feel mentally better and about eight to ten weeks to feel physically back to my old pre-treatment self.
    You will feel better. Many of us have been exactly where you’re at now.


    Vincent James

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  2. Just played catch-up with your week. I can only imagine what you're going through - I struggle with being home-alone with my side-effects for a few days - I'm not sure I could cope with being in the hospital for that long.

    Hopefully you'll be out of there real soon and on your road to recovery.

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