You’re my life now. Part five

Where shall we three meet again?

In thunder lighting or in rain?

When the hurly burley’s done

When the battle’s lost and won

That will be ere the set of sun

Where the place?

Upon the heath

There to meet Macbeth

It was about three in the afternoon and I found my bed surrounded by a nurse, an auxiliary and a doctor, all looking very worried.

“We’re going to have to get you in a side room” said the nurse

“When?”

“Now!”

Everything of mine visible was thrown onto my bed and I was wheeled out of the bay, down the corridor and into a side room like a student trolley dash or a 70s episode of Doctor at Large. I was quickly followed by my storage cupboard and all things excommunicated. I half expected a shout of “now stay out and don’t come back”

I was fairly quickly offered an explanation that the infection on my line, which was still to be removed, was contagious and I needed to be isolated from others. In the meantime I would have the line removed and a cocktail of antibiotics to detect which ones best dealt with the infection. This would be work done with the microbiology department. It would be based on daily bloods being taken which was how the infection was found. I was happy. The chest infection was worse and, combined with the other main symptom, had left me effectively incontinent. 

I started wearing a mask when staff came into my room until it was pointed out that I was not infectious but concerns of very high transmissions via shared toilet facilities were the issue. I had to have my own toilet facility. So there it is. I now have bio hazardous poo. I told Chris and she said she was not surprised and considered it had always been the case.

The side room is pleasant enough but the outlook is a brick wall as opposed to an academy school and coppice. Even the sky is obscured by some form of netting on the roof. The room is spacious but, with the ensuite is my only space. The only other criticism was the continually flushing toilet which I reported and the near impossibility of getting any natural light in the room which I did not.

It was a weird evening. Night staff were short in number and replacements from other wards, who were used to different equipment would try to fix a problem but  then wander off looking for someone who knew how. This meant the  simplest tasks were extended by at least an hour. 

It was early evening when I discovered continuous flushing from the toilet had become an aggressive leak and was soon to father a mini flood. This coincided with the full realisation of my state of incontinence as I stood with my pants around my ankles in a puddle of water around a leaking toilet. Pretty much my definition of a low point. Towels went down, about six, to absorb the leak and the nurse brought me man nappies to counter the other breach.

Sunday morning and estates are in the bathroom replacing a broken ballcock, line team has come in to remove the offending line followed by an ecg, my chemo tablets, blood pressure test and first antibiotics of the day. I cry out in pain as the cannula has broken down so the search is now on for someone to replace the cannula. Someone is found and cannula is replaced so antibiotics in. Now all that’s left is to call Alex and get as many underpants to me as quickly as possible.

There we have it a lousy night but hopefully a step forward today. Nevertheless I am now incontinent and going through nappies on an industrial scale. I will need help if this is not to become yet another infection. It really seems a Sisyphean task at the moment and every nudge of the boulder uphill sees it roll back over my head.  At some point I’ll get ahead of this game but cancer’s collateral damage has momentum today.