Scan time

This week I've felt a bit rubbish. I got a chest infection and my temperature shot up. I went to the docs and got some anti-biotics, which started to do the trick. The plan is for us to nip away this weekend and I don't want another bank holiday spent in hospital, so I checked in with the clinic and they told me to come in for a blood test. Anyway, wind back a bit, it's been a bit of a busy day, involving visiting 2 hospitals, getting a scan, a blood test and a shot.
I had a scan scheduled for today. The idea was that I'd then have the results in for my next chemo appointment (a week on friday). The hospital rang me on monday to say they detected elevated blood levels that indicated a possible infection. I had just been to the doctors and got some antibiotics, so I knew what they were talking about. During the week, I'd still felt rough and my temperature had jumped around a bit, so the plan was that I'd give a blood sample at the hospital I was getting the scan at, prior to having the scan and then go to my usual hospital after the scan and get the results, to see if I would be okay for the weekend.
I got to the hospital in good time (thanks to Mr. SatNav), gave a blood sample. The blood was taken by one of the nurses who usually takes it at my local hospital, which was a bit strange, but apparently they go around all the hospitals doing their blood thang.
I got to the scan appointment early, but they were running late. I got brought a big old jug full of a frothy looking clear liquid, which I had to drink over an hour. I had had a scan previously, during diagnosis, so knew what to expect. The main difference was that the drink I got at the hospital during diagnosis (private appointment, thanks to medical insurance) was mixed with squash and tasted good, whereas the NHS version tasted like aniseed and was foul. It took the hour to get through the foul stuff this time. Yack. Not nice. Next time, I'll take my own squash along!
Anway, after an hour they came and took me through to get changed. You get to wear one of those "open at the arse" backward fitting hospital gown efforts. I'm pretty sure they are only for comedy value, to keep the spirits of the nurses up. With my "outfit" on, I was led through to the scanner. It looks like a big, humming doughnut, with a flat bed at the end, that passes through the hole. I layed on the bed and someone came to stick another needle in my arm. They didn't do too great a job of it and sprayed my gown with a touch of the old claret. Anyway, you lie down and they leg it out the room and the doughnut tells you to "breath in and hold your breath". You're then fed through the hole slowly, getting told you can breathe normally, just before you have to anyway. Then they feed in some contrasting dye stuff through the needle in your arm and its time to go through the 'nut again. Finally, they get you to hold your arms above your head and its repeat the drill. Then, that's it. Needle is taken out and you're out of there.
I drove over to the clinic and after waiting a few minutes got to see my consultant, which was cool, as I'd not seen him for a while. He went through my bloods and told me that the infection markers had come down but that I was neutrapenic, which means that the neutraphils in my blood were below 0.2 (where normal is about 3). The neutraphils are the little dudes that make up the majority of your white blood cells and are responsible for fighting infection. So, obviously, when there arn't many around, you're pretty open to infection and more worryingly that can lead to sepsis, which can be fatal. Whilst I was there he was able to show me the scan results. He said they're not officially released but hey, I was happy to see. He showed me the original one, with the chest monster sat there. There were parts that measured 13cm across! It still freaks me out to think about it. Then, he showed the current scan and there was not much left of that big mutha. There are still abnormal cells but no big mass! I was well chuffed. He was very pleased and said I was showing an excellent response and was on track. All good. He was then able to check my lungs and sinuses for infection, which was a bonus. There was a very small amount remaining in the lung but not a lot and the sinuses looked clear now too, which was cool. So, with the antibiotics, he thought I'd be okay to go away, but just to make sure, I was given an injection of GCSF (this stuff stimulates the bone marrow to make white blood cells).
So, all is good. I feel much better today and my blood count should be building up. I just need to check my temperature regularly.

A & E Tour 2008

For the Easter bank hols we decided to get away from it all a bit and shoot off to Devon. No problem there. The kids were excited about going to the seaside and so was I. We got there okay (3 hour drive, but traffic was ok) and our hotel was alright (appart from being really cold). We went out for some dinner to a restaurant called the Pier Point, which is on the sea front.
It was a nice evening and my son Harry was reasonably well behaved and was happy to crash out in his buggy for the walk back to the hotel. All good.

Now, Saturday, I started to feel rough again. I hadn't been feeling 100% anyway, but thought I was on top of things. After lunch, I needed to go back to the room and crash. I felt my temperature rising and my head was banging. A bit less than ideal. I didn't get up again until Sunday. Sam took the kids out and then nipped for a quick drink in the bar while I slept on. I woke up several times and just felt bad. In the morning I gave in and rang the unit back home and they told me to go straight to hospital as I could be suffering from Neutropenic Sepsis. Lovely. My wife drove me over to Torbay hospital A&E, where we queued up for a surprisingly short time (the queue beating power of being a chemo patient). We then were sat in a little examination room for a while until a doctor came along, asked the same old question, stuck a line in my arm and then shot off again. After a while, I suggested that Sam and the kids carried on with what we were originally going to do today, which was go to "The Living Coast". Looking at the picture below, you can see the netting above it. One reason its good fun for the kids is that they have penguins and other birds running around amongst you as you walk around, which is quite amusing.

Anyway, they left and I was meant to ring them as soon as I was leaving, so I could catch up with them if possible. It wasn't until the next doctor arrived and informed me that they wanted me to have IV anti-biotics and to stay in under observation for a couple of days, that I realised my holiday may have come to an abrupt end. I rang Sam and told her the news, she couldn't believe it and I think she realised that I hadn't just been whinging about headaches and things for attention!

Next, I received two different anti-biotics by IV. These were described as being Demesdos strength, by the doctor, which was a comfort!

Then I played the waiting game, interrupted only by several different people popping their head round the door to tell me someone would be taking me to the ward soon.

Instead, I ended up getting a chest x-ray first. The radiologist (quite a jolly chap) informed me that I have "long lungs" and if I have any x-rays in future, letting the radiologists know will make their day (not sure if I believe him, but I'll remember).

Finally, someone came to get me. I was taken to the ward by wheelchair, as for some reason you're not allowed to walk by yourself. Seemed a bit bizarre, but hey, chaffeur driven is cool.

I had my own room, in the Turner ward. It was quite nice, as wards go and the nurses were all friendly. In fact as soon as I got there, I was brought lots of food (always good).

My stay was pretty uneventful. I got anti-biotics and blood tests and then on monday they released me back into the wild (wahoo!). On the plus side, I saw from my discharge notes that the x-ray showed a mass of 5cm, whereas the original mass was nearer 10cm, so that looked pretty good to me. I'll see what my consultant dude says about that on Friday (chemo cycle #3, blimey, doesn't time fly)