Hello! Do you remember me??? I have vague memories of posting blogs posts on here what seems like in the Prehistoric period.
I suppose I had better attempt to explain what has been going on since I last blogged on here. I say "attempt to explain" because - to be perfectly honest - my head has yet to stop spinning enough to understand some of it myself.
In the beginning of June I had a lovely few days in Holland - a great time of rest and relaxation.
Then the wheels came off big time.
I had been put on two different types of tablet - Letrozole and another one beginning with R (the name of which I cannot remember) and thought I was going to go through the cycles of the one beginning with R without any problems.
My cadaver had other ideas. It protested!!! Luckily it kept its thoughts to itself until after I got back off holiday otherwise I would have been really upset. I had really been fighting to go to Holland anyway (a small matter of a lung drain wouldn't stop me).
Anyway - as I said - when I got back from Holland my first appointment with the Oncologist wasn't quite what I had hoped it would be. My white blood cell count was lower than the Medical Professionals were totally happy with. So the next cycle was postponed (indefinitely as it later turned out). I had to repeat the blood test and go back to the Oncologist the following week for another check.
When I followed these instructions I was told the white blood cell count was still low and ordered to ring the Emergency number (which I had not yet been given) if I ended up having symptoms of anything like a cold.
Well, that was on the Tuesday. The Thursday of the same week saw me going round to my neighbour to ask them to ring an ambulance for me and being admitted into the Leicester Royal Infirmary via a "Blue Light run". Yes - I was officially an Emergency Situation.
It turned out (after Leicester Royal Infirmary winning the argument between themselves and Glenfield Hospital) that my cancer had got worse. On top of that - two other things had joined the fun - pneumonia and an inflammation in the bottom of my lung. So much for their original ideas of either a blood clot or fluid in the lung. (I knew it wasn't fluid in the lung because I felt light-headed - fluid in the lung or chest just makes me feel generally heavy. Including my head.)
So I spent a couple of weeks in a lovely ward in the Osborne Building of Leicester Royal Infirmary. Seriously - the ward really was lovely. It was a six bed bay. The staff were friendly.
Not so lovely was the news that I was going to get chemo (apparently whether I actually wanted it or not. That was the thing which scared me the most. Going from being told by both an Oncologist and a Cardiologist that I didn't have the reserves in my heart for chemo to being told it was now last resort time was not pleasant at all. Especially when the Oncologist refused to consult the Cardiologist before she put me down for it.).
I had my first dose of chemo as an inpatient. It went better than I expected. Well, to be honest, it couldn't have got any worse than I expected - thanks to one Dr helpfully telling me I could die during chemo and, in the next breath, enquiring whether or not I wished to be resuscitated if anything did happen like that.
(One of these days I hope someone somewhere is going to teach Drs that I don't deal well with "it could be this or that" and I certainly don't deal well with being told the worst case scenario if I feel like I have been deprived of a choice first.)
I have now had three sessions of Chemo. I haven't had any major side effects yet. The hair is slowly coming out - and the chemo does tire me out but no sickness yet.
The most annoying thing is - I am now on home oxygen. My sense of humour has really come into play with this subject. As I sit in my chair typing this blog post I am attached to what I call my Snail Trail (a tube that connects me to an oxygenator - or compressor - in my hall) if I am attached to the tube all you have to do is follow it to find out where I am. The other thing I have got is what I call my Walking Tank. This is useful for when I am out and about. It is smaller and lighter than a hospital oxygen cylinder (thank goodness). It is still annoying though. If the chemo does its job I won't be on the oxygen for a very long time. My breathing is slowly getting better but I am taking my time with my recovery.
I will try to blog on here more frequently (as much as I can anyway). It may give me something to do whilst I am waiting for the chemo to percolate through my system for a start.
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