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It’s in the bones. Part six

 Day 10 My neutraphils have dropped to 0.26 so I’m a bit of a way from going home. They need to be over 1 before that can happen Promised a picc line today. I know I’m a wimp but I have small deep veins and chemo has compounded the issue. Although an injection into the muscle isn’t a problem for me a needle into the veins is incredibly painful. The Hickman line was removed because it was believed that I would be going home yesterday. Hickman line removal is also difficult as an out patient because it requires some considerable skill. A picc line, however, can be removed by a nurse so the team have agreed to fit one for me. So the picc line team is on the ward and four have been done but not me. Resources are stretched and I’m now going to have to wait till Monday so that’s three days of painful blood extractions. Buggar! Bad night. Terrific stomach pains. Paracetamol didn’t work so on the morphine. Safe to say that I had no sleep Friday night and Saturday is a wipeout. Day 11 Sleep...
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It’s in the bones. Part five

 Day 8 from the bone marrow transplant and no real side effects. The doctor is telling me that my neutrophils are at 2.5 which is unprecedented at this stage and it’s clear that the new cells have already started grafting. Neutraphils are essentially white cells which are our immunity system; they rush to infected sites to fight the good cause. The 2.5 number represents 2,500 white cells. Anything between 2 and 5 is normal; below 2 indicates vulnerability to infection and above 5 indicates that there may be an actual infection. The hospital normally send a patient home once they’ve gone from 0 to 1so that puts my readings into perspective. Outside my room the doctor meets with the consultant. “How’s Steve doing?” “His neutraphils are at 2.5” “Bloody hell” The door opens and the consultant grins at me. “When do you want to go home Steve?” “Five o’ clock?” “How about tomorrow?” The consultant turns to the doctor. “Arrange for discharge tomorrow and to get the Hickman line removed. Hi...
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It’s in the bones. Part four

  [Rooster Cogburn (John Wayne in True Grit) confronts four outlaws across a valley]  Ned Pepper  :  What's your intention? Do you think one on four is a dogfall? Rooster Cogburn  :  I mean to kill you in one minute, Ned. Or see you hanged in Fort Smith at Judge Parker's convenience. Which'll it be? Ned Pepper  :  I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man. Rooster Cogburn  :  Fill your hand, you son of a bitch! DAY ZERO Six packs of what looks like smoked salmon is carefully lifted from a bin shaped freezer; these are the bone marrow stem cells. Liquid nitrogen escapes and I wait for jimmy saville to arrive from the pit of hell; he fails to make an appearance. There’s an intensity in the room with two nurses who will not be leaving my side during the process. I think this might be serious stuff.  I’ve had drugs pumped into me for 24 hours continuous and I’ve put on 3k over three days because of those fluids so I’ve not only been ...
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It’s in the bones. Part three

 The Queen Elizabeth hospital is about twelve years old, an impressive blue/white steel and glass structure with the appearance of a shopping mall on the ground floor and a pristine series of corridors feeding patient wards and offices above it.  I’m in room 29 on ward 625. The corridor on 625 is around 100metres long if you include the isolation ward in which my own room is located. There are signs on the walls imploring patients to stay as fit as possible during treatment so I have resolved to walk ten circuits, that’s 200 metres, three times a day, after breakfast lunch and dinner. That should deliver me 6km a day which is a reasonable footfall of 10,000 steps or thereabouts.  I came onto the ward Sunday and, after a series of tests, including bloods and covid, I start my chemo treatment on Tuesday as part of a six day course followed by a bone marrow stem cell transplant on “day zero”. Day zero - 6. Pretty uneventful day. Three hours on a drip and three 2km corridor w...
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It’s in the bones. Part two

 I broke my hand last weekend. The stair carpet is a little worn and we have not replaced it yet because we are refurbing the kitchen at some point and didn’t want kitchen fitters tramping over a new carpet. I woke at 3 in the morning and I’d basically sweat my chest line dressing off. It’s called a Hickman line and replaces the line I had in my arm. It will be used to draw blood, administer drugs and, I believe, transplant bone marrow stem cells. At least that’s my current understanding.  So it’s 3 in the morning and I’ve habitually donned my reading glasses to check the time. I’m out of bed and off downstairs to apply a new dressing to my sweat drenched chest. I misstepped on the worn carpet, fell and my hand struck the architrave of an adjacent bedroom door. Initially, although painful, I didn’t think it was broken but a visit to the hospital for a line clean and bloods provided the opportunity to check.  I was immediately despatched to x-ray and a clean break of the f...
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It’s in the bones. Part one

 It’s a been a few weeks since my last blog. After three sessions of chemo I’ve been home recovering and trying to build up for the next stage of my treatment. Essentially I have a very aggressive form of acute myeloid leukaemia and although I am currently in remission I will relapse, probably within two years and further treatment will be far less efficacious. So my only reasonable option is a bone marrow stem cell transplant and I will be admitted to the QE hospital in Birmingham on Sunday 3rd April to begin this process. I can’t say I’m not concerned. There are risks associated with the treatment including rejection but, more likely, infection. I will spend the first week at the QE being treated with chemo and anti rejection drugs followed by the intravenous administration of bone marrow stem cells. The day this happens is known as day zero and is followed by 100 days when I will be extremely vulnerable. So much so that I will need to be in fairly strict isolation to protect a b...
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You’re my life now. Part seven

 It’s been a few weeks since my last blog. Since then I’ve spent a fortnight at home and come back in to the hospital for a third round of chemo. This is a precursor to a stem cell transplant planned for mid March. My mood has been different each time. I was so ill the first time I came in that I thought I was just going to check out. I was grateful for every day when I didn’t feel totally washed out and I somehow found the means to see every day as a positive step away from the disease that had overcome me. When I left hospital the first time I was two and a half stone lighter and had the face of a wizened old man but two weeks at home in the care of my family transformed me and my second trench of treatment was accompanied by an annoyingly chirrupy demeanour which saw me sail through a relatively unpleasant but not life threatening experience. This time is different. I’m not going to be here for so long and the pattern of treatment is slightly different.  I have a double dos...
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