Ambulatory Care

Howdy Partners. Today is officially known as Day 3, for I had my transplant three days ago. Lest we forget. That equates to five days in Ambi Care. Welcome.


Today, I feel worse than I did yesterday and yesterday, I did not feel particularly sprightly. Sure, I have made myself go to the Clinic and sure, I got in a taxi and attempted lunch out, and sure, I finally did a number 2, but, with all that said and done, I know I am on a one-way ticket to the hospital. I have been in bed, staring into ITV for the last three and a half hours. It may be tomorrow, it may be Monday, but I can sense my days in Ambulatory Care are numbered. Things that did not hurt yesterday, are hurting. Here’s a tip, if, for some ever reason you find yourself in a similar position to me in your future, do not wear control knickers. You do not need anything drawing further attention to your stomach.

Soon, I will not be sitting with up to five other people with PICC lines in their arms. Soon, my observations with not been done daily, but every four hours. Soon, I will not have to look out for the side effects, because I will be in them. Soon, I will struggle to drink. Soon, I will look like this all the time and not for a majority of the time.


‘Incredibly well’ my arse.

I wish I could make all of this smell of roses.