Let's start with constipation, ( I was going to write "always a good opener".... and then realised my faux pas).
Last week I gave Jess and Beanie marrow bones to chew, they love them, but unfortunately Jess's digestive system is not so keen. She became more and more uncomfortable, and so we booked a trip to the vet, which involved a "SleepOver" and an x ray, and being put on a drip...
She come home with laxatives, painkillers and a rather large bill, love her. Just as well we do love her.
Meanwhile, I of course had been around the entire house and garden clearing up all the leftover bones and disposing them in the bin, and could be found at various times in the day muttering quietly to myself a little mantra. "I am never giving Jessie another bone ever again".
Without going into too graphic detail, we spent the next few days examining and taking photos ( to show the vet obviously) of piles of excrement. It's a relief to report that she is, a week later back to her normal bodily functions.
Changing the subject totally, a very kind son , with the very best of intentions bought me a gift.
No ordinary gift but a complete set of very brightly coloured shopping bags.
Steady everyone, yes, you like me were wildly excited upon hearing this news, there were four different sizes too, plus different capacities. My head was positively spinning.
Maybe my face or body language didn't show immediate ecstasy, or maybe I wasn't leaping around the kitchen with undisguised pure joy, I do believe I had a similar reaction to when another son bought me an ironing board for a birthday present, but I digress.
Mustering up my best "grateful" face, I assured him I would use them, thanked him profusely and put them in the car, where they promptly got caught up in a tangle of other bags, dog leads and all the other 'just in case I need it' paraphernalia that lives in my car on a permanent basis.
On the third trip to the supermarket I reluctantly thought I had better start using these bags, untangled them, got a trolley, then changed the trolley because I needed a larger one, immediately finding it harder to push. Entered the supermarket, zapped my card realised I had the one large trolley in 400 that didn't have a holder to put the scanner.
Quietly cursed under my breath, then remembered that I'm being calm, and peaceful and balanced and generally a 'nicer' person, one that is pleased to be able to go to a large supermarket and shop, with brand new lovely big, colourful bags my son so generously bought me.
Three deep 'yoga' breaths later I set off, narrowly swerving around a lady choosing flowers.
It quickly became apparent that the new bags combined with my poor driving skills were a dangerous force, and I could in fact have gone to war and caused a fair amount of destruction in a short amount of time.
A major oversight of the bag manufacturer (in my humble opinion) was in wanting to have vast depths , these bags had to be balanced by having fitted rather long handles that sat outside of the sides of the trolley, a bit like files in a cabinet, only these stuck out a long way.
Feeling very self conscious I gingerly maneuvered my way around the shop, and all went well for the first five minutes, but then as I was getting more into the task, I forgot that was in charge of a potentially dangerous vehicle.
Small children narrowly avoided having their vision seriously impaired, OAP's suffered inflictions such as sharp back and chest pains and I got caught in the yummy mummy's lycra 'activewear'.
As the whimpers and cries became more regular, so did my cries of "sorry" and "Oh I am sorry", and so did my haste to leave. By this point I was fairly swinging around the aisles, wiping out the odd can of beans and the in-store baked croissants.
Panting and red faced (not my usual look at the supermarket, more racquetball court), I arrived at the quick check out, clocked the scanner in, got asked the usual questions, in which one of the answers was no. My bagels were not recognised.
(Not an affliction that I regularly suffer from...)
An assistant was required, she came over cleared the screen, I started again, she went off , same thing happened, she came over cleared the screen, same thing happened. By this time she was becoming aware of the small army of disgruntled shoppers nursing injuries and pointing accusing fingers my way.
Realising that she needed to avert a potentially very nasty situation she almost threw the bagels in my trolley, and indicated that I needed to leave the shop immediately.
The saga of the shopping bags doesn't end there, believe me, it was a struggle to lift the now very heavy bags out of the trolley and into the car, and ditto when I got home.
Fortunately for them, no boys were around when I was unpacking the goods, as I wasn't in the best of moods, (cue more deep breathing and a cup of herbal tea).
Some hours later the 'son' came home.... and I regaled my shopping experience, stating very firmly that I was never, ever going to use those bags again. I have yet to go back to that shop.
Lastly chemo, that wasn't anywhere nearly as comical I'm afraid. I did however have a Brucie Bonus and not have any last week. Not because I didn't want it, but because my bloods were so low!
Not all doom and gloom though, managed to play a full game of netball, not brilliantly, but hey my opposition was only sixteen, a fact that my husband took great delight in telling me how many decades I was older than her, charming.
Also had a cheeky racquetball session, two nights of badminton, a yoga & zumba class, and a lovely game of tennis. Chuck in the odd dog walk or two, meeting up with friends and a quick lymph draining session, and that pretty much sums it up.
Had bloods taken this week on Tuesday, the port worked! They were, of course borderline, but we felt that we were good to go on Friday ( today).
Arriving at the hospital on time at 10am, the time I was definitely told to be there and no later ( so what's twenty minutes between friends? Anyway I took a box of chocolates and some satsumas as a peace offering!)plus is running late a form of exercise?
Miss Lovely Oncology nurse, after announcing to the entire ward my tardy time keeping, stuck me in the 'naughty corner' chair, (little did she know it was my favourite chair (two windows and sunshine!)
Despite previous blood tests, she felt we needed to have another one, (she knows me well), and guess what, this time the port didn't work.... two attempts, still no blood was passing down that syringe.
So the arm got the needle instead, and the port got a good telling off and a mouth full of saline and another chemical infusion that I can't remember or even begin to spell.
My litre of fluid was given ( through the now remorseful port, we shall call him Parkin ( The name Parkin is an English baby name. In English the meaning of the name Parkin is:Little rock.) he looks a bit like a small pebble, and then the blood results came back.
My doc wasn't there today so met up with the pleasant Dr RS, he looked a bit concerned as he walked towards me, so not good news I thought.
It was ok as I had a back up team ready (SW and Jack), and prepared myself.
These are my current blood results,
Hb 9.5 (normal range 12-15)
White cell count 1.6 (normal range 4.5-10.00)
Neutrophils 0.99 (minimum for chemo is 1, normal range 1.5-7.0)
Platelets 115 (normal range 140-450)
Put it this way if I was in a race with those blood counts not only would I be last, I wouldn't have even made the sub bench.
A five minute discussion, blood transfusions and GCS-F injections talked about, it was decided that I would go ahead with chemo, as I look and feel alright (!) , however I am now on antibiotics , purely preventive apparently, but with the proviso that I call immediately I start to feel unwell.
Everything else went very smoothly, and I left the hospital with a date next Wednesday for another blood test. I was, it's true a little deflated as I thought that i could have managed a bit longer before becoming neutropenic, but as always every cloud has a silver lining, my CA125 has dropped again to 113, happy days.
This blog post has taken me over three hours to write, with family interruptions, I apologise to those friends I owe emails too, I had intended to write them today but forgot my ipad (chemo brain?), and now I'm far too tired!
Finishing with a few quotes from my book..
Peter Kay
My Nan told me her friend had collapsed outside Waitrose. She said, "the ambulance men came and she wasn't breathing so they had to give her artificial insemination".
“If you want the rainbow, you have to put up with the rain.”
― Dolly Parton
Steph and Rosie in the Gallery magazine....
