Tag Archives: leukaemia

Wednesday 9th December 2015 – I’VE BEEN OUT …

… on my travels today – the first time since I came back from hospital last Friday.

In fact, I was out on my travels during the night too. I was working in an aeroplane hangar and one of the jobs that I had to do was to fit a new wheel and tyre on the undercarriage of ar aeroplane. In fact, the wheel bore a very great resemblance to the wheel and tyre that I fitted the other week on my wheelbarrow. And each time I fitted it, the air pressure went down and the tyre went flat. Eventually I had a good listen and I could hear the air escaping from a puncture in the inner tube. But like a good Civil Servant that I was, I’d been told to put this particular wheel and tyre on the aeroplane, and so I did. Fixing the puncture was obviously too much like hard work.
But from there we moved on a little and I was part of an undercover police force that was investigating the theft of a very dangerous chemical from this hangar. It was one that dissolved almost everything with which it came in contact (so how did they find a container in which to keep it?) and was on the Top Secret list. And as we were searching this hangar for clues, there was a man, badly eaten away by the acid and with bits of his body like his left thigh missing and with yellow skin, trying desperately to hide from our view underneath a 50-gallon oil drum that was lying on its side. But having failed in our search, we did however know that something had been posted to someone, put in a letter box somewhere. We were all crushed inside an old Ford Y van, a red Post Office van, and we were looking at all of the letters that had been collected from various letter boxes. All of a sudden, one particular letter caught my eye so I opened it. It was addressed to a cycle maker, and seemed to be some kind of coding in a five-letter group on an old blue order form. We sent a woman with the order form to give to the cycle maker to see what happened, which she did. And a couple of days later, she was called back and gived a brand new specially-made kids’ cycle painted green and white and she looked totally ridiculous on itn being a rather large woman. But we were no further forward and so we retired to plot our next move.

And this is when the alarm went off and I had to struggle to find the phone which, in the meantime, was waking everyone in the house. And I was thinking what another good sleep I’d just had.

After breakfast and the visit of the nurse to give me my injection, I had a shower and packed my bag and then Terry and I set off for Montlucon, stopping on the way at Pionsat for fuel and my order from the pharmacy.

At Montlucon we went to the hospital for my 11:00 appointment, which turned out to be about midday before I was seen.

The good news is that I don’t have leukaemia. The bad news is that I have a form of lymphoma. There are several types of this illness, some of which are quite aggressive and others not so. It seems that I have one of the lesser kinds. There is a whole range of reasons why this might have occurred, and one of these reasons is due to something to do with an aggressive protein, and my blood count shows that there is a protein that has gone off the scale in the blood count. It’s not the “usual suspect” in this respect, but nevertheless it merits further enquiries and so I’m due for further tests.

But as an aside, two points raise their ugly head. If it is a protein issue, there are not the facilities to treat it at Montlucon and so I will have to go elsewhere. It looks as if I’ll be on my travels again in the New Year. And in the second case, I seem to be full of ganglions. Not that they are dangerous apparently, but their presence has certainly been noted and in all kinds of places too.

On the way back we stopped for a late lunch and then went to Neris-les-Bains in search of chocolates for Liz because it’s her birthday today. After that, I went back home, for the first time for almost three weeks.

We’ve had plenty of sun, plenty of wind and plenty of excess solar energy, 694 amp-hours in just 19 days and that’s impressive for a period approaching the winter solstice. I also had a good rummage around and found a spare door lock, and I fitted that onto the front door so that it can be opened from the outside. This might come in handy if people other than me need access to the house.

I hung around here for a while too because, although it was cold, it was nice to be on my own for a while and relax in the relative comfort and security of my own surroundings. As Barry Hay once famously said on the beach at Scheveningen about 25 years ago “I tell you what man, it’s good to be back home”.

I started up Caliburn, threw some spare clothes, soya milk and vitamin B12 drink into the back and set off for Liz and Terry’s. First time Caliburn has had a run out for a while of course. And I mustn’t forget Strawberry Moose who has been invited to spend Christmas away from home.

As I drove back here, I remembered thinking “wouldn’t it be nice if the next round of tests were to reveal that I don’t need these twice-daily injections and the district nurse didn’t have to come round so often” and then I thought “blimmin’ ‘eck – it’s 19:00 and if I don’t put my foot down I’ll miss the nurse!” I had completely forgotten.

But I was back first and here I am at Liz and Terry’s. All ready for Round 2, and trying to work out a cunning plan about going home. I managed to take a huge load of wood upstairs to my attic without stopping, and that was certainly better than before I went to hospital, so things are looking up. I’ll see what my next couple of blood tests tell me and then I’ll make a decision.

Tuesday 24th November 2015 – NOT AGAIN!

Yes, I had another bad night.

As most of you know, I’m a night person rather than a day person, and so being awake at midnight is no big deal to me. In fact last night at midnight I was watching a film on the laptop. It’s a good job that I’ve downloaded all of those films and radio programmes from www.archive.org for when I go off on my travels.

The result of all of this was that from about 04:30 we had a new type of dawn chorus – a relentless stream of nurses and doctors performing all kinds of rituals on me. By the time breakfast came round at 08:30 I had given up trying to go back to sleep.

No blood transfusions today – just a prise de sang and a change of vitamin pochette.

After lunch, Liz came round to visit seeing as how she’s teaching here today. Amongst the things that she brought me was a form to sign from my insurance company about paying my bills, and also a vegan cheese and tomato sandwich, which was the nicest thing that I’ve eaten for a while. The mobile library came past too and I liberated a couple of books.

Later on, the doctor came by with the news. It seems that they are ruling out leukaemia for the moment and focusing more on lymphoma. This can be fatal in some circumstances but they reckon that in my case it’s not very profound and so there’s quite a bit of hope.

The plan is that I can be liberated tomorrow and go home (although it seems that I’ll be going home to Liz and Terry) for a week. And then when the results have been collated (which might be a week or so) they’ll call me back to see what they can propose for me.

The important thing is that I’m likely to be here for a good while yet. You aren’t going to get rid of me that easily.

Monday 23rd November 2015 – AT LAST!

Yes, a good night’s sleep. It took me ages to drop off but once I fell asleep that was me gone away with the fairies and I felt absolutely nothing at all. Totally painless.

And for once, no-one came to bother me during the night (well, if they did, I know nothing about it) and the morning visits were later than usual so I had a really good night’s sleep. And didn’t I feel better next morning?

I’d been on my travels during the night too. In the south of France during the war and a member of SOE had just paddled ashore in his canoe, evading a German canoe patrol just offshore (you could tell the Germans because they had 2-pronged tridents with points that pointed outwards). As he paddled along the road (yes, you ought to be used to thins right now) a Vichy patrol consisting of an old man in a Citroen H-type van silently pulled up alongside him and leapt on top of him. This is where I came in and I cracked the old guy sharply across the back of the head with a Stillsons wrench.

I had a quiet morning doing my University course but I was quickly interrupted several times in rapid succession.

Firstly, it seems that they suspect that I have leukaemia so they wanted a bone marrow sample, and that’s not something to be undertaken lightly – I’ll promise you that. And then I had a new room-mate – a guy in his 70s or maybe even older.

But what was nice was that Ingrid came to visit. She’s Dutch and lives in Biollet and came to the Anglo-French group. She works as a Health Visitor and one of her clients is in hospital here, so she popped in to say hello and have a really good chat. That was quite a pleasant surprise.

While Ingrid was here, one of the nurses came by and dropped a packet on the table. “Take this with you when you go – it’s your tea”
“When I go?”
“Ohh yes – you’re moving”
I thought that the issues that I’d been having had resolved themselves but it seems that they have resolved themselves into another direction. I’ve now been moved to a new department – the Oncology/Haematology department – and so it’s looking very much as if their suspicions are indeed lurching towards leukaemia.

I’ve a lovely little room here all to myself. Nice and modern with en-suite facilities – I’ve paid good money to sleep in far worse hotels and motels than this and for once my luck seems to be in, although the nurses aren’t quite as young, vibrant and exciting, which is a disappointment.

But you can’t have everything, I suppose.