Yesterday was a bit of a roller coaster emotionally....who else would insist on having chemotherapy despite almost being in too much pain to get out of bed! We shouldn't be surprised...this is a woman who used to delay her chemo appointments so she could play tennis first...a woman who used to try to persuade fellow radiotherapy patients in London to "come for a swim at the pool down the road after we're finished".
Anyway....once we had got through the practicalities of oxygen in the bathroom we headed (after repositioning the drain....ouch!) for Oncology. The port was playing up again...over an hour to get it working...but eventually we (well Brian, or dangerous Brian, as we call him) managed to "clear the pipes" and get started. Then back to EAU for the first unit of blood. There was much discussion about painkillers because, once the fluid has drained, the drain itself can then touch the lung wall...causing just a little discomfort! The problem is that the prescribed painkillers work to relax the inflammation, but that's the same inflammation that one needs to get the talc to work. Once again, that catch 22 situation where one drug does one thing well, but works against another drug being taken for another reason.
The answer is probably to go home with the drain in, and I know that jill is keen to get home again. Any plans involving drains seem to change continuously, and never quicker than expected. The best we can hope for now is that (once the second unit of blood has finished) and the talc has been put in. There's another few hours of procedure after the talc, so if we wait then it will be too late for home....so better to go home and come back tomorrow (or whenever). We've coped with most things at home so far, so a lung drain shouldn't be an issue (he said, optimistically).
Brother Tim has just left...back to deepest East Anglia....but he, and all the other family, will be back again this time next week for the big wedding. Sweet Pea production in the vegetable garden is in full flow at the moment, picking daily, because, as we all know, the more you pick off the more you get. Hopefully all the various flowers we planted will look like Chelsea Flower Show this time not week.
Handing over to the one who must be obeyed now......
By Jill
A short story .
* Names have been changed to respect privacy.
Once upon a time there was a Grandfather let's call him Cyril and a grandson called Jack . In Jersey where they live they have certain traditional rules , and one of them is to have the hedges and verges cut twice a year . This is called Branchage. Often large tractors are used to chop down the vegetation quickly ( but often a little too brutal ). All land owners have to be compliant and ensure that they don't have any shrubbery / hedges or long grass overhanging the road .
This was a job for two experienced , highly professional men, but Cyril and Jack knew they were up for the task. Some apple trees needed pruning , the only way to do it was from the road side with a ladder. Jack takes the ladder out armed with his pruning saw, Cyril follows with his secateurs . They made quite a sight, entertaining the coaches of holiday makes that were passing and the local neighbours .
Of course they had covered every angle of Health and safety , hard hats and high vis vest were worn ( well , Cyril had his in his pocket , having had trouble to find a large enough one to fit .)
Jack goes up the ladder and starts the task in ernest, meanwhile Cyril does what he can with his secateurs . Progress was good , until Jack heard ( imagine a strong Jersey accent ) " Awh , hell" Jack obviously concerned calls out " everything alright Pops", and hurries down the ladder.
He was greeted with Cyril standing in the road with his trousers down by his ankles and the wind billowing his large white boxer shorts.
Jack trying his upmost not to laugh , aware that a lorry was passing and also of his grandfathers dignity , covered him up as quickly as he could.
Strangely he didn't seem that perturbed .
In turns out the exact same thing had happened to him in Waitrose at the check out a few days before , now I know he likes the cashier , but that is no way for an elderly man to attract the ladies surely.
When Jack regaled this story to myself and Tim last night I was so pleased that I had been given medication to numb the pain from the drain, as it was incredibly painful , snorting, coughing and spluttering and trying not to guffaw with real laughs.
Bless him, he doesn't mind me sharing this with all my 4 readers, after all it's celebratory status .
BY the way anyone going to Diamond club tomorrow- take him please, he's nearly a St Martinais.
Waiting for drugs from pharmacy , car with oxygen on standby , IM GOING HOME ( at least for 24 hours ) .
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:EAU
Home sweet home.... Xo
ReplyDeleteSo glad you’re going home. Sorry I was laughing about the Cyril story ! X
ReplyDeleteGlad you are getting home again. I too, chuckled at the branchage story. X
ReplyDelete