Trout Pout

Tuesday I had some lovely visitors and these two called as well – just kidding Lorna and Mike were the lovely visitors along with my Auntie Ann and B of course.  B left the ward to walk the streets of Liverpool carrying that basket secure in his own masculinity.  I’m sure he’ll save some for me.

Lorna and Mike picked a good day to visit as I felt fine on Tuesday, Wednesday however was a completely different story.    I initially put it down to being unceremoniously and unexpectedly dragged away from my breakfast for dialysis which we’d been informed the night before would be afternoon or evening.  When I got back to the ward I had a shower expecting that would  make me feel better and I briefly convinced myself it did but I didn’t pick my knitting back up.  Plus my mouth had started to get sore. By the time B arrived I was struggling to keep my eyes open.  The doc called in to see me and it turned out I was feeling poopy because my counts had bottomed out.  As I was lousy company and couldn’t keep my eyes open Auntie Ann went home early and I was in bed by twenty to eight.  It turned out that my counts had bottomed out.

Thursday I spiked a temp, not a high one, my mouth was sorer and it was worse on Friday.  I got a new mouth wash.  A friend visited who visited on Thursday said to her husband when she got home she didn’t think I’d be home at the weekend.  I got back to the ward at quarter to midnight after dialysis and was in bed at quarter past and then the new patient in the ward started and she was seriously loud.  She kept shouting and the nurse kept saying use your buzzer other patients are asleep.  They shipped her off to a side room first thing in the morning.

Friday I felt pretty good other than my mouth but I had had two units of blood the night before.  I didn’t sleep too well on Friday night and thought that this was why I felt shattered (okay I probably convinced myself I felt tired as opposed to not well).  Then the renal nurse woke me up to take my tablets and insisted I have some breakfast as one of the tablets needed food – I mean I’d only thrown up once since I’d been there – fair enough they did give me some anti sickness but as some of us know that can have questionable effectiveness at times.  Plus the tablet in question although prescribed by renal (calci chew) in my case was a haematology tablet as I’d discussed it with the renal doctor and he said from their point I wouldn’t need it.  And although I’d said my mouth was sore I couldn’t speak loud enough to explain it felt like I’d chewed broken glass.  So my bowl of rice krispies took me about two hours.  I was right next to a draughty window so ended up with four blankets doubled on me so I put the shivering down to that. Usually I would have got back to the ward and had a shower.  I got back and got on the bed with two blankets over me as I was tired and shivering and then I asked about going home.

I then promptly threw up and one of the health care assistants whizzed the blinds rounds where they stayed until late Sunday afternoon.  I got under the sheet, snuggled down and turned my phone off ring to vibrate.  Of course then it vibrated.  It was B asking if I was coming home.  I said I didn’t know but probably.  Then Auntie Ann rang and said she’d call at the hospital anyway.  THEN one of the nurses offered me a side room so I could get some rest and I said ‘Does that mean I’m not going home?’ and fair dos he said ‘No, it would just be quieter.’ whilst probably thinking ‘I don’t think so.’  I said I was alright where I was because although they would probably have pushed me on the bed I couldn’t be bothered moving.  I was wondering by this time how I was going to get up to get dressed to go home.

Auntie Ann arrived and basically let me nod off.  Then B arrived sheer seconds before the doctor.  We discussed the temp and I mentioned the shivering and basically talked myself into staying in.  So the weekend followed with excellent nurses pandering to my every whim – ice lollies, painkillers, lavender to keep the scent of food away, by the time the lady’s visitors across the way ARRIVED the side room was long gone but on Sunday due to a possible infection, a long lie in on Sunday morning, antibiotics, more antibiotics, painkillers, slavering when I drank, dribbling when I slept, more painkillers and a 24 hour cocktail of painkiller and antisickness in a pump which is still attached and merrily pumping things through a butterfly in the top of my arm.

One of our consultant’s came to see us this afternoon and unfortunately I was feeling a bit pooped then possibly due to my temp showing up shortly after as 38.  Obviously the chemo has flattened everything as anticipated (neutrophils 0.0 on Saturday) and we wait for them to recover while giving me lots of blood and platelets whilst warding off infections.  Plus he commented that my face wasn’t as swollen.  On Friday and even more on Saturday it felt like a balloon with a trout pout – although in reality my lips didn’t look that big.

My mouth has felt surprisingly better as the day has gone on and B can now hear me – well as much as ever.  Last night was a bit iffy and Saturday was impossible.  At one point he leaned in really close over me and instead of turning his ear to me faced me resulting in me croaking ‘Don’t breath on me.’  I tried writing things down but he couldn’t read my writing, something I should have realised from the way he queries the shopping list.

I promise to blog more in future even if it’s just small, gibberish filled posts as opposed to long gibberish filled ones.  Plus let’s take a vote – if enough of you say yes I’ll post a pic of what my jim jam top looked like after my canula just slipped clear of its mooring this afternoon.  I personally thought it was pretty impressive but then again I could be easily pleased.