Back from rock bottom

Well it has been a while since I last wrote and so I should have plenty to say. And indeed I do. There are lots of positives to be had today, over a week's worth to catch up on, plus a few other things to put all the positives in perspective.

So first things first, how am I doing? Well they don't incarcerate you in hospital for 4 days unless it is necessary, and so I'd better explain what was going on.  I was suffering very painful abdominal pains, accompanied by fever, a high temperature, nausea and vomiting and dizziness. In short, I was in a bad way. But, I am now much better and am able to appreciate the current state of affairs because I have a rock bottom to compare it to.  And rock bottom is probably the most appropriate way to describe it, as i will explain later. Mr Man came through the whole experience relatively unscarred although I'd like to think that even he would recognise and adjust his actions just in case there is a next time, and decide that taking a person with shooting, stabbing abdominal pains, nausea and dizziness to a hospital in a hard suspension sports car along some of the worst potholed roads in London is not a good idea. At 2.15am in the early hours of Thursday morning however, I did not have the energy to argue, but held onto my improvised sick bags for dear life. Luckily the car made it there unharmed, although I'm not sure the same is true for the passenger. 

On arrival at the hospital a very competent doctor assessed me and sent me for X-rays to establish a cause of the pain, and quickly concluded that a combination of my medication, the chemo earlier that day, the anti sickness drugs given alongside the chemo, dietary intake (ie lack of it) and my low red blood count and associated immune system deficiencies were causing what was essentially chronic constipation. Sorry to be so candid, but I have no qualms about talking about these things and pity anyone who winces at the thought of talking aloud about what should be a daily and integral action in any healthy human life. Poo.  For the next 4 days I then endured a series of doctors and nurses of varying degrees of capability and kindness. One or two were lovely, very helpful and actually did their jobs well by reading my notes before they met me and actually listening to what I was saying.  The rest were not. Luckily shortly after admission once the pain was more under control, I was in a better position to deal with the worst of the medical staff, but it still disappoints me that some people are seemingly too lazy to read a patients notes but would just plough in and start from scratch with the same questions, jumping to their own conclusions thus adding no value at all to the experience.  Continuity and quality of ongoing patient care are certainly areas to be improved.

So once we had established a cause, we needed a solution. This is perhaps where the frustration on my part really kicked in because there wasn't one. There were lots; any, some or none of which might work either in isolation or in conjunction with each other. Add this to the wide array of nurses and doctors getting involved meant that it felt like no one was in control and it was all a bit haphazard. I was given every possible 'let's get things moving' option under the sun including, injections, suppositories, strong tablets, natural tablets, gentle tablets, drinks and enemas. And then had to wait to see what happened. Eventually things did start to move, and by Saturday we were making progress but not without a lot of discomfort and trial and error.  Due to the afore mentioned high turn over of nurses it kind of fell to me to assess how much laxative I felt I needed, which was an odd concept but after all no two human bodies are the same and only I know how my body is feeling and responding at any time. So I got to a balance just about by Sunday and was allowed home, but more chemo to finish the course on Monday and Tuesday complete with anti-emetics further disrupted the balance, and even now a further 4 days later on, I am still not quite right, which means I need to be careful how far I stray from the bathroom and leaving the house is a bit of a brave move, so I don't intend to do so at least for the time being. 

Mr Man is away this weekend with his university friends on what could be mistaken for a fathers for justice rally and so I am home alone with the Pupster Barney and whoever may pop in for company.  I don't mind really that he has gone away for the weekend despite my delicate current state as there is not really anything he can do for me other than provide light entertainment, company and amusement and sometimes these things are not always his forte.

Most of Mr Man's university friends have been blessed to have children seemingly relatively easily and so the idea behind their weekend away is to all go away with their kids (most of whom are boys) making it a Dads'n'Lads weekend.  Obviously the closest thing Mr Man has to a lad is the boy wonder Barney, and oddly Mr Man was rather reluctant to take him along.  However, despite the lack of relevant accessory he has still gone along and will no doubt have a super time when the supposed adults regress back to make it a houseful of children, with no responsible adults in sight. I do feel for the  landlord of the beautiful looking converted windmill in Norfolk... What have they let themselves in for.

Anyway, this leaves me at home with these positive thoughts. Firstly, despite an unconventional route, it is worth noting that I am now 50% through the chemotherapy treatment programme. This is very good news as it means I'm past half way, and those bad cells must be getting a good kicking in there by now.  Obviously I'm hoping the next three rounds are more akin to rounds 1 and 2 in experience, and that round 3 was a one off.  Fingers crossed.  Secondly, whilst it has not been a nice experience over the last 2 weeks, the weight has fallen off me which some people think is a bad thing but I'm still no where near what could be considered underweight so I'm taking it as a positive. And thirdly, by the time Mr Man comes home from his weekend away he should be refreshed and have had a good break to re-energise to taken on the second half of the Project Nicola treatment challenge, and I should have got some balance back in my bowels. A long way back up from rock bottom already, I'm sure you will agree.