My inner womble

So after a few days of uncomfortable home bound containment, I today managed to leave the house and venture as far as the post office to collect a parcel.   Despite feeling a lot better today than yesterday and having managed a full night's sleep rather than waking up every two hours, I still was not taking any chances and so took Lil Sis's house keys along with me (her house is en route to the post office) in case I needed an emergency stop. Fortunately I did not, but always better to be safe than sorry.

I also took the opportunity to wrap up warm and benefit from the blustery weather and chilly temperatures which we are now enjoying. To be honest, I think just standing outside and letting the natural elements blow away the cobwebs was on its own enough to make me feel better after so long inside, but I very much enjoyed my brief walk as well.

Whilst I was out I did notice a rather disturbing amount of litter which appeared to be decorating the pavements, gutters and roads in our area today.  I also followed a woman along the road pushing her mandatory buggy complete with surf board thing on the back for the school age child she had in tow, and was extremely disappointed to observe that both she and her child just discarded their sweet wrappers on the pavement rather than find a bin (there are lots, it is a main shopping road) or put it in their pockets until they got home.  I was a bit too far back to say anything as by the time I caught up with them the bravery had left me, but I wish I had said something now, not least because the child's book back she was sporting on the buggy was one from one of the allegedly better school's in the area. She should have known better. Not only is this unsightly and potentially unhygienic I find it very sad that people in general think it is acceptable to litter.  There was an article in a magazine a couple of weeks ago about some towns in Britain which have taken a hard stance against litter bugs and quite rightly too.  It is now illegal to drop a cigarette butt on the pavement as this now counts as litter (about time too), and apparently it costs every citizen in the UK £5 a year to pay for the street rubbish tidy up services.  So next time, I see someone littering, I think I will make more of an effort to stop them seeing as it is my money they are wasting.  To compensate for my cowardice in the face of a litter bug however, I did pick up several pieces of rubbish which ironically seem to have been scattered across our road as a result of the bin men emptying the recycling today, and so I feel I have done my bit to make East Dulwich a cleaner place for today.

So, onto the positive thoughts for the day.  Well, firstly I am feeling a bit better than yesterday and have managed to leave the house, as I have already said, and secondly today I received a card from an old university friend of mine who although I do not see or speak to her very often, I think of very fondly and so was delighted that she got in touch as I had not heard from her throughout this whole ordeal and just a note to say she is thinking of me means a lot.  Thank you.  And finally, I have contributed to a cleaner society by picking up some rogue litter this morning.  It may not be a lot in the grand scheme of things but every little helps and so hopefully if we all do the same each day then those £5 can be spent on something more important than picking up litter.  It must be my inner Womble.

Home Alone

So I am still oscillating between the two extremes of gastro-intestinal function, which means I am still disappointingly rather housebound as the new week begins.  This is rather annoying on a number of levels but not least because it is now finally cold enough to need to wrap up warm when venturing into the elements and my winter woollens, coat and boots are starting to get impatient.

As I spent the weekend chez moi, I was fortunate enough to have some kind visitors to come and pass some time with me and act as intervals to my television viewing schedule.  After Mr Man left on Friday lunchtime, G came round in the afternoon and she very kindly collected my prescription from the chemist for me (this was quite an ordeal for her as the chemist in question is quite frankly inept and has clearly been helping herself to the doolally drugs for some time).  Baby A was quite happy watching Top Gear and so there was no screaming from him on this occasion, and we had a nice chat and a cup of tea. On Saturday, lil sis and BIL popped in during the afternoon to fuss Barney mainly, and then came back in the evening to watch Saturday night TV with me.  We made BIL watch Strictly Come Dancing (to which I think I am now officially addicted) and so it was only fair that when it came to choosing a film afterwards it was one that he would like.  Despite Virgin Media having access to over 300 films I can never find one I want to watch, but we went for Attack the Block mainly because it had the quite funny bloke who normally makes films with Simon Pegg in it, and having liked Hot Fuzz and Paul a lot I think my logic was that if it was only half as funny than that would be ok.  Sadly, despite having a few amusing bits in it, it was not a great film as despite being very surreal and clearly made up, it seemed to advocate kids on estates carrying weapons and mugging innocent people which are two things I am particularly adverse to due to past personal experience.  BIL however was happy enough and he had been to the shop to get me some salt and vinegar french fries to aid my recovery and so on balance it was not a bad evening.

Essex Girl came over yesterday afternoon, leaving CS at home alone in charge of the children and with sole responsibility for a roast dinner.  I dare say CS is hoping I get better very soon not least because then his wife won't have quite as good a reason to abandon him at the weekends and he can spend his Sunday's not being harrassed by a three and half year old who from what I understand is not averse to grassing up her own father for eating his dinner on the sofa in front of the TV when Essex Girl was out one night this week!  Poor CS.  Essex Girl brought with her entertainment in the form of Bridesmaids on DVD which we watched and gasped at in horror at various places, but overall found it very amusing. We decided that the main bridesmaid character was too thin, and was wearing clothes which did not suit her age or her figure, and we also decided that the Irish Policeman was actually very nice and was quite a catch for the afore mentioned bridesmaid long before she realises this for herself.  (She is American - they are not reknowned for being the smartest especially in films are they?!) We were confused by the presence of Matt Lucas, and unconvinced that the main bridesmaid character had ever in fact eaten one of the cakes she was allegedly so good at baking, but overall impressed by the film. I was kind of expecting a stereotypical cutesy American chick flick type thing but was pleasantly surprised at how un-sugary it was. If you haven't seen it, then you should.  It is funny.

Mr Man returned earlier than expected from the Father for Justice event with his friends, although his physical presence yesterday afternoon was earlier than expected, it took a good six hours for me to get any sense out of him as he was quite cabbage like in appearance and vocabulary, and so to all intents and purposes he may as well have not got home until about 6pm which is when I was expecting him back to start with.  I have interpretted the nods, grunts and odd syllable to mean he had a good time, and the brief stories of vomitting, escaping goats and inability to recall what was served for pudding to indicate that the good people of Norfolk were on the whole relieved when the group left the area on Sunday morning.

So, despite the enforced homestay, my weekend was punctuated by various positives including good friends, humourous entertainment and the safe if pickled return of my favourite cabbage.  Now all we need is to get the balance right internally so I can get out there and start making the most of the winter wardrobe. Standing on the decking a couple of times a day and taking a deep breath is not quite the same.

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. 

Positivity reigns supreme

So it has been a slightly different version of chemo this week. After day one which consisted of spending 9 hours in an arm chair on the day unit I then had to be rushed into hospital at 2am on Thursday morning due to chronic abdominal pains, the strength and duration of which I had not experienced before. This was accompanied by feverish sweating, a feeling of nausea which eventually lead to me being violently sick and a spot of dizziness for good measure. All in all it was not very nice.

Since I arrived in the inpatients ward at the hospital though I have been well looked after and they are sorting me out. It's taking a while but we now know the issue and are just waiting for things to progress so we can get back on track with the chemo programme. I had the blood transfusion yesterday which went well so hopefully now I have a full stock of red blood cells I can fight off the impact of Wednesday's chemo to make it focus on fighting the bad guys. Once we have sorted out the abdominal pain we can crack on with what should have been Thursday and Friday's short bursts of chemo and then I can go home and get on with the business of being asleep.

The key positive to come out of all of this is that not only is the abdominal pain being sorted and hopefully will be better managed once and for all, but I now know for sure what my blood group is. Despite all of these tests and procedures I have never know what type and I was curious. And what do you know. It's A+. How much more positive can we be?

It is better to give than to receive

Today was the start of the third cycle of chemotherapy which means I have done 50% of the long days on this part of the treatment programme.  This is very good news as it means we are half way to beating this disease on stage one of the battle of the abdomen.  Given how fast time seems to be flying, I am sure it won't be long before we are on the last cycle.  The only fly in the ointment on this cycle is that apparently for some reason my red blood count has not recovered as much as it should have since round 2 and so in order to ensure that I can cope with the chemicals in round 3, I have to have a blood transfusion tomorrow which is not a thought I relish.  My Dad used to give blood, and was always telling us that we should also give blood but I am afraid to say I have never been able to do it.  I am still not so good with the needles, and so the idea of giving blood voluntarily made be have the involuntary reaction of bending my elbows to protect them from any invading needles.  Obviously now I am not able to give blood so was relieved to hear that Lil Sis goes regularly and so the family account is in credit.  I also saw a friend, Nice E, for dinner the other night who goes regularly as well to top up the country's blood bank and she said she would also be happy for me to have her blood and so I feel better about the fact I have never been, but am going to be taking on this occasion.

It was quite a long day today and tomorrow promises to be long as well as each bag of blood (and there are two of them) takes two hours to filter in, and so I am off to bed soon, happy in the thought that my A+ blood is going to be topped up by such kind souls as Lil Sis and Nice E.  Thank you both and all the other good people who give blood.

Remember you're a Womble

In the early 1980's before the birth of the M25, the easiest way to get from West Sussex were we lived to the outskirts of Manchester where my Dad's family lived was to go through London.  I was only little and so don't recall the whole route, but I always remember two landmarks very clearly; one was Hammersmith Bridge which was my favourite bridge at the time before some local authority or other decided to paint it murky green rather than its previous majestic pale blue and gold, and the other was Wimbledon Common where we would have all eyes to the window in the hope of spotting a Womble or two. I think we did see some of the Wombles on several occasions, although I cannot be sure if it was Orinoco, Wellington, Tobermory or Tomsk, they were definitely there. You see the thing with the Wombles, as with Father Christmas, Christmas Elves and the Tooth Fairy you have got to believe, otherwise they don't show themselves to you. And just ask anyone who has ever spent any time with me in December and they will tell you that I DEFINITELY believe.

So today you can imagine how pleased I was to read in the Metro that the Wombles have revamped their band as the 'W-Factor' and are re-releasing their 1974 number 2 hit record Wombling Merry Christmas, as a contender for the Christmas number one spot to challenge the X Factor. Uncle Bulgaria was quoted as saying  "I hear The X Factor is jolly popular. However, W comes before X."  He seems confident that a proper Christmas song would prevail this year and the Wombles are ready to do it, and so am I.  How fabulous would this be?! The Christmas Single is due to be released on 12 December, and the whole reworked album, The W Factor - 20 Wombling Greats is out on 28 November. Put the dates in your diary.

So, with these two very exciting things to look forward to, I am sure my next round of chemo treatment which starts tomorrow will fly by. Bring on the chemo and bring on the Wombles.

Stand and deliver

Well as we are now officially in mid November it is acceptable to have started Christmas shopping. And so I have. The beauty of spending so much time at home is that I am in to take delivery of anything I should buy on the Internet. I have of course got a list of people and presents although I still need to think of a few more suitable presents for some more tricky recipients.

My next round of chemo starts this week and so I have had a recent flurry of deliveries to make sure I don't miss any knocks on the door when I revert to my hibernating state which is due to ensue for about a week after the treatment finishes. Today, being the last day when I don't have to go up into town (tomorrow I need to have a blood test in anticipation of Wednesdays round 3, to make sure that all the relevant cell counts are back to normal) was therefore quite hectic but by 4pm all expected arrivals had been counted in. This is especially good news as unless the delivery drivers are able to leave with a neighbour, to recover a parcel from the majority of these delivery companies can be quite challenging, involving either a drive to the local delivery centre, dubiously located on an industrial estate which is at least 45 mins drive from my home so hardly local, or dealing with an automated call centre to try and re-arrange delivery using only yes and no voice commands and pressing the numbers of the keypad.

So, from now until the next awake phase scheduled for around 26 November, I will be merely browsing and bookmarking my outstanding purchases ready to order in time for Christmas and delivery in my next awake window. Plus it gives me a chance to have a good think about what to get those tricky recipients mentioned earlier.

So the positive thoughts for today are that I'm feeling very pleased with myself for having made such a cracking start to my Christmas shopping, I am also pleased to have got through my latest awake stage without being too bored, and I've got a week full of visitors for all three of this week's chemo sessions lined up and booked in. Bring on round 3.