Tag Archives: lymphoma

Thursday 11th August 2016 – NOW HERE’S A THING!

Yes, having had blood counts recently of 9.4, 10.0 and 10.5, today’s blood count is … 11.9. And that’s without any medication whatever. It compares with the “normal” figure of between 13.0 and 15.0, and the count that I had when I was first diagnosed with lymphoma – namely 3.8.

In fact, the hospital was so impressed that the doctor refused to give me the blood stimulator that I have every visit, and I was thrown out without having even a pretence whatsoever of medication.

This is astonishing, as far as I’m concerned. And so is the hospital. The doctor has said that I’ll have just two more sessions of Mapthera and that will be that. The next session will be next Thursday – and they will keep me in hospital overnight to check for side-effects – and again three weeks after that, and then I’ll be done. If things go according to plan, I’ll just need a regular follow-up to check my immunity situation and that my blood count is holding up.

And this is causing me no amount of issues. Had I still had my spleen and my immune system, I’d be half-way home by now so you’ve no idea just how depressed I am by that. I’ve said before that it’s not going to be the lymphoma that will kill me but something that I will pick up that I can’t fight off. I can’t even vent my spleen about that.

And not only that, the time scale is all wrong. They don’t know how often I will need following up and the second helping of Mapthera coincides with the date that I leave here. So do I risk renting a studio for 10 months and waste the money by being allowed to go back to France? Or do I bank on going home and then have to come back every week or fortnight at whatever the expense of the journey might be?

But nevertheless, it’s a major step forward and you’ve no idea just how pleased I am by my news today.

Last night I had another miserable night – still awake at 02:00. I was up though at 07:30 for breakfast (and still no muesli) and even had time to go for a shower before setting off for the hospital – on foot af course because I’m feeling better. I picked up my injection, but didn’t need it so the hospital nurse took it back to the apothecary.

But as for the nurse who saw me, she was quite brutal with my catheter and I can still feel the pain even now. Ohh for Tara – the pretty little nurse on the ward where I stayed who was so gentle with me.

Back here in time for lunch (and yet another brisk walk in the rain) and then after a good chat with Liz I crashed out for an hour or two – properly too. I was well away.

Tonight, I finished off the pastries and potatoes and veg and it tasted just as nice as last night. I shall have to look into the idea of making my own vegan pies some time.

So tonight I’ll try – yet again – to have an early night. And hope that I’ll be on my travels again. I was off during the night and I was in the company of the girl who has been described on many occasions as “The One That Got Away”. She didn’t get away last night either – we were planning on visiting the north coast of Norway or Russia, but ended up on a snowy island like Svalbard where we spent most of the night encountering polar bears. And it was another night where I awoke in the middle of it all to go off down the corridor and then went back to bed, and to sleep, right at the very position where I had left off my ramble. That’s been happening a few times just recently.

But Ironically, just as last time she featured in a nocturnal ramble, there she was on the internet having sent me a message just about the time that all of this was going on. This clearly signified something, but I’ve no idea what it might be.

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Monday 25th July 2016 – IT REALLY COMES TO SOMETHING …

… when you arrive at the hospital day centre and the nurse takes one look at you and says, in a horrified tone, “But Mr Hall – you look dreadful”. But that really is an understatement of just how I’m feeling at the moment.

I didn’t sleep too badly last night, I have to admit, and round about midnight I was feeling reasonably lucid which makes a change from how I was feeling when I went to bed after my pizza. I was soon back asleep again though, with one or two of the usual interruptions. I’d been on quite a few vivid voyages too, but the only one that I can remember concerns two extended-cab pickups. One was red, rather like a Ford Cortina estate but a pick-up, and the other one was a real pickup coloured a sort-of light lime green and with a black interior. Although I had arrived at this spot in the red one, I found myself spread out on the rear seats of the yellow one, half-asleep, with someone whom I didn’t recognise at all in the front.

The alarm went off at 07:15 but there was no way that I was going to leave my bed at that time of morning. In fact I went back to sleep again and awoke at 07:30 when the second one went off. I crawled upstairs to the kitchen and made myself a small breakfast as I’m still not all that hungry, and then off for a shower. If I’m going to have nurses poking and probing me, they would expect me to be clean and tidy.

For the next half hour we played “hunt the keys” for Caliburn. I didn’t find them but by this time it was far too late to do anything about it. I staggered off for the bus (remembering on the way to the bus stop that my keys are in my sac banane) and off to the hospital.

While the nurse took my blood sample I poured out my woes to her and repeated the story to the doctor. Not Hermione though – the one who replaces her when she’s not there. The Social Services girl came to see me and I told her everything too.

The doctor came back to see me a little later. The good news is that my blood count is still 10.0. It’s not gone up any for the last four weeks, but it’s also not gone down any and considering how ill I’m feeling, that’s really quite remarkable. It’s also quite remarkable that I haven’t had a blood transfusion for … ohhhh … weeks and weeks.

The bad news is that I have a raging chest infection. They packed me off for an x-ray (I’ve not had the results back yet) and then they reached a decision – that they are going to keep me in hospital for “a few days” so that they can give me some liquid food, some steroids and some medication for the infection.

So here I am, up on a ward,with a raging temperature of 39.5°C, sweating everywhere, and hopefully going to be cured – at least of this infection. But as it has been said so often, I’m at risk from all kinds of illnesses now that my my spleen has been removed, and while the lymphoma probably won’t kill me, I could be wiped out by something that I catch and won’t be able to fight off.

I hope that my room-mate here doesn’t snore. But he has enough to put up with with me coughing.

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Friday 22nd July 2016 – HAVING HAD THAT GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP …

… the other night, I paid for it last night, that’s for sure.

I was lying there all through the night and I remember every minute of it. It was the most uncomfortable night that I’ve had for quite a while. And when I finally stepped out of bed and had a good look in the mirror, I looked about 90 (instead of my usual 85). What a horrible sight.

Mind you, I must have dropped off at some point during the night because I was up on the Arctic Highway along the Mackenzie River in northern Canada, driving a top-of-the-range 4×4 vehicle heading north, with the odd car or two coming back the other way. But I wasn’t alone for there was a woman and her young daughter aged about 8 or 9 with me. The daughter was wearing a black shell suit with twin white stripes and a petrol blue tee-shirt. She had to change her tee shirt to a pink one and couldn’t manage to do it and so I had to help her, even though I was driving this expensive vehicle along some of these dreadful mud-and-gravel roads.

I had a late breakfast, and that was really the highlight of my day. I didn’t set foot for a minute outside the door of the building. In fact, as the afternoon wore on I started to feel worse and worse and this wasn’t helped by learning that someone whom I vaguely know and who is suffering from lymphoma died yesterday, quite suddenly, of unforeseen complications and another friend of mine lost his wife quite suddenly and unexpectedly. It’s as if the Hand of Death is slowly enveloping me and it’s a very uncomfortable feeling.

I was in bed by 17:00 and although I couldn’t really sleep it’s still the best way to deal with my issues right now and I’m glad that I’m in my own room where I can stay like this in a semi-vegetative state.

At midnight exactly we had the most astonishing thunderstorm followed by a torrential downpour. That woke me up and I couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards. For a good couple of hours I was wide awake and feeling a little better – to such an extent that I went into the bathroom at one point and washed some of my undies. Can’t have me going about all smelly now, can we … "well, it’s never bothered you before" – ed.

Yes, I am feeling a little better now so I hope that I can have a really good night’s sleep for what is left of the night. I deserve it.

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Monday 13th June 2016 – IT’S NOT VERY GOOD NEWS!

No, I had the results of the two samples that were taken from me the other week.

The first bit concerns the bone marrow. Whilst it’s true to say that the lymphona hasn’t spread into my bone marrow, the fact is that the bone marrow itself is quite fragile and as a result they won’t be giving me any more chemotherapy. This is because the marrow is quite fragile and they fear that the chemotherapy may damage it.

The second thing is, if anything, even worse. And that is that my illness has spread to my kidneys and that is what is the matter with them.

I don’t know if the situation is dangerous or not – I didn’t ask. What I do know is that they are going to have a meeting on Wednesday to discuss a course of treatment and I have been summoned for next Monday to a meeting to find out what will be the plan. All that I can say is that I don’t like the sound of this at all.

I had a difficult night’s sleep again, awake quite early and having a trip or two down the corridor. When the alarm went off at 07:15 I was awake but it still took me a good few minutes to leave the comfort and safety of my nice warm bed. After breakfast I packed everything away and even found time for a shower, then paid up for my stay and hit the road.

It was pelting down with rain this morning and traffic queues everywhere. However I made an executive decision (an executive decision being, for the benefit of new readers of this rubbish, a decision that if it happens to go wrong, the person making the decision is executed) to follow the signs for the motorway once I reached Korbeek-Lo and that was a much better idea. There was heavy traffic on that road but it was all turning off to the various business parks down there and it didn’t take long to hit the motorway. And once on the motorway it took me a mere 10 minutes to reach the hospital by going right round the city and onto the campus from the rear. I was there half an hour early.

A couple of doctors, one of whom was the girl whom I normally see and the second one was the urologist – she who gave me the bad news – came to see me. That wasn’t all that she gave me either because she ordered an injection for me – one that would help purge me of excess water. And I’ll tell you what – that worked in spades and made me feel so much better.

The Social Welfare girl came to see me too. We discussed my accommodation situation and she’s going to make further enquiries for me. Mind you, although she’s given me a great deal of moral support she hasn’t really gome up with too much in the way of practical help. But then again, I don’t suppose she encounters too many people who have my kind of problems.

They gave me a blood test too, and my blood has dropped down to 7.6. That of course meant a blood transfusion and I had two pochettes of blood. What with all of that, it was nearly 19:00 when I left the hospital. I had a walk down into town and stopped off at a fritkot for a falafel butty and chips for tea – all for €5:50.

And then it was back here to my new home for my first night.

There’s no internet (there’s a student.net site but of course I don’t have a password for it) and there’s a leak around rthe edge of the roof light.

As I said yesterday, I’m glad that I’m only spending a couple of weeks here.

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Thursday 31st March 2016 – TODAY’S THE DAY …

… when I might learn something about my state of health and whether the Hospital at Leuven will do something about it.

But before I can think about that, I have other fish to fry. Hans is coming back from Zeebrugge this morning and we’ve agreed to meet up at the Motorway serviced just down the road from here for breakfast.

I was up early and off out to fahr’n fahr’n fahr’n down the autobahn about 3 miles to the service station where I waited.

And waited.

And then I had a phone call – “just pulling into the Services now – it was Tienen, wasn’t it?” as a matter of fact, it wasn’t. I was at Heverlee and so a quick thrash down the motorway brought me to Tienen and breakfast.

We had a good chat for a few hours and then I had to return to Alison’s, for she was intending to run me into the hospital, which was very nice of her and something that I appreciated a great deal.

First port of call was for a blood test. And sure enough, my blood count has gone quite down. It was 9.1 the last time I was here, but now it’s down to 7.8. That’s set a few alarm bells ringing at the hospital, make no mistake.

The doctor who saw me asked me quite a few questions and gave me a good examination, and then summoned her Professor – the kind of thing that always makes me feel better. But the news that I received deflated me rather rapidly. It seems that the Hospital here at Leuven thinks that I have a different type of lymphoma than that diagnosed by Montlucon. They didn’t understand the need for the removal of the spleen and, in agreement with the opinion of the District Nurses who have been visiting me at Liz and Terry’s, they don’t understand why I need to have these anti-coagulant injections and think that they might be doing more harm than good. The first week or so, yes. But today it’s long-beyond the bounds of necessity and I can stop immediately.

As for treatment, they propose a course of Chemotherapy. There are two types of this – a standard type that is the most common and which is recommended in 99% of cases. There is another type – about 10 times more expensive (and so it’s not reimbursed by the Belgian authorities) and 10 times more effective. And this is what they propose for me – a course of treatment that might last for as long as 6 months and they intend to start it on Monday morning. Furthermore, it has been reimbursed by my Medical Insurance in the past in other cases, and someone from the Social Services department of the hospital will be coming to see me on Monday to “help me” make the application for this treatment. Yes, not backwards at coming forwards, here at Leuven.

They aren’t sure how this is going to pan out though. I’ll be treated as an out-patient but I need to spend a few days recovering from each session. I’ve told them that I’ve nowhere to go to stay (I can’t keep on relying on other people’s generosity) so they told me that there is some guest accommodation at the hospital. The Social Services department will help me here too, to see if I qualify for a place.

And so here we are. I had my operation on 27th January and since then, nothing much has happened at Montlucon with regard to my illness. Here at Leuven, they have a decision within 9 days and propose a course of treatment starting in 4 days time.

It’s very easy to say, with hindsight, that it was the wrong decision to allow Montlucon to go ahead with the removal of the spleen, but there was a good chance that it might have worked and I was worried about any further delay. Had I known that the treatment would begin less than two weeks after my first visit, maybe I might have thought differently. And then again, Leuven has had access to all of the tests and analyses carried out by Montlucon which aided quite considerably the speed of the diagnosis. How long would I have had to have waited for all of this?

We went shopping afterwards to a Charity Shop rather on the style of a Canadian Value Village. Loads of interesting furniture, including a lovely coffee table that, when cleaned and polished, would look lovely in my little house. But all of this is a long way away.

Anyway, I’m off for the weekend. I’ll find a river somewhere and lodge myself in there for a few days to relax. I need it.

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Wednesday 23rd December 2015 – I KNEW THAT IT WAS A MISTAKE …

… to drink that half-litre of sparkling water with blackcurrant syrup last night. I was up and down like a yo-yo all through the night and I didn’t really have a very decent sleep because of it. Serve me right.

And the film that I saw – the James T Wong film – was the first time that I’d seen it. It was the first one of the series apparently and Boris Karloff had only a supporting role rather than the lead role that he had later in the series. And the film lost quite a lot because of it. The plot was rather thin and the denouément was rather weak.

Anyway, I was up at the usual time, had my injection and then had my breakfast. It was about 11:00 when everyone was ready to leave and so while they shot off to Montlucon and shopping, I went round to my house to check it over and relax for a while. Surprisingly (or maybe it isn’t), even though the day was grey and depressing, the batteries were fully-charged and the water was heating up nicely.

I headed off to Montlucon at about 14:00 and went to Carrefour, but I couldn’t remember what it was that I wanted to buy so it was rather pointless. And then I went off to the hospital.

16:30 was my appointment, and so I was seen bang on 17:45, and least I now know what they think might be up with me. Apparently I have a lymphoma of the ganglions, and the cure for that is quite drastic. They intend to take out my spleen. The spleen is also the organ that controls a great deal of the immune system and so while removing the spleen MIGHT (and only “might”) solve the lymphoma problem, it might provoke problems all of its own.

But it did lead to an interesting dialogue –
Doctor – “I’m afraid we are going to have to take your spleen out”
Our Hero – “Blimey – isn’t that a really difficult operation?”
Doctor – “Rubbish! Generations of surgeons have been taking the backbone out of politicians for almost 100 years! It’s child’s play by comparison!”

Anyway, after the holidays, they will arrange an appointment for me with the surgeon and the anaesthetist and we’ll see what happens then.

So rather chastened by the news I headed back here to tell Liz.

Liz – “Are they going to do that here?”
Our Hero – “No Liz – not in the kitchen”

To cheer me up, there was home-made ice-cream. The strawberry was excellent but as for my inspiration of the choco-mint-chip (made by the simple expedient of grinding up a mint-chocolate bar into a litre of coconut milk), it was astonishingly good. I was amazed.

At least that cheered me up. And I needed cheering up too because that wasn’t the only bad news that I had had. I mentioned to the doctor the story about the twice-daily injections and she confirmed that unfortunately they do have to continue.

So I shan’t be having my lie-in after all. Drat and double-drat!

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Tuesday 22nd December 2015 – WELL, I HAD THE CALL!

Yes, at about 09:30.

“Mr Hall, we’ve had your blood test results. You need to come in this morning for a transfusion”
“I’m still waiting for the District Nurse to come, and it’s over an hour’s drive to Montlucon, you know.”
“Well you really need to be here before midday”.

And so that was that. With no District Nurse by 10:30, I was off and gone – on my way to Montlucon.

Mind you, I was off and gone long before that. Despite having once to leave my bed (for the usual reasons), I had a really good night to make up for the dreadful one that I had had the night before. And I was running the Formula One racing network too. My youngest sister was driving one of the cars and my niece in Canada was doing the voice-over television commentaries. However, we were under attack in our house (which bore a strange resemblance to Hankelow Hall, the abandoned stately home where we squatted back in the 1970s, except that there was a more modern extension built onto the back) by people who wanted to take over the running of the organisation. We were trying to defend it resolutely but looking out of the back, I noticed that a load of gear, including skis (for some reason), was being passed from the new extension into our house on the floor below through a window that should have been guarded by my elder sister. The door into our room was then battered down and into the room surged a crowd of people, TV cameras, everything, and my sister saying that we had all agreed to pass on our rights to this new company. I however made it quite clear that she was not speaking for me.
From there via several removes, I ended up back at my house in Gainsborough Road Crewe where I was living with a woman who was about 20 years older than me, and we had a daughter of about 11. The behaviour of this woman was extremely bizarre, which puzzled the girl and me a great deal.

strawberry moose violet sock sloth camping story time sauret besserve puy de dome franceSo after breakfast, we had to play Hunt The Moose again. Today, Strawberry Moose was in the sun-lounge camping. And also reading a story to his new best friend Violet the sock-sloth.

Robyn was keen to join in of course. She loves having stories read to her and no-one reads stories like Strawberry Moose. And in exchange, she drew a beautiful picture of him.

At the hospital car park, there was hardly anyone about so I had a good spec right by the entrance just 200 metres from the front door of the hospital. And they were waiting for me when I arrived, which made a nice change.

“Only one go” I said to the nurse trying to inject the drain into me. “They had four goes last time that I was here”
And so she did it in one, and a more painful injection I have never had. Total agony.

Lunch wasn’t up to much unfortunately, but you can’t expect much in the way of special diet when you turn up a l’improviste. However, I had foreseen this, having been caught out last time, and I had packed a packet of crisps, a handful of Liz’s home-made vegan biscuits and a banana. They didn’t ‘arf go down well. What was not so acceptable was the inexcusable, unpardonable sin of forgetting me when it came to bringing round the afternoon coffee. The fact that I MAY just have closed my eyelids to give my tired eyes a rest is neither here nor there. What you can be sure of is that harsh words were exchanged – and I did get my coffee.

I also got something else quite important too. The internet speed at the hospital is quite respectable for a public place, and so I profited by downloading a huge pile of radio programmes and a Mr Wong film from archive.org. That should boost up my supply of listening and watching matter if I’m going to be incarcerated elsewhere.

And talking of that, I was also speaking to my friend Alison, with whom I used to work at The Conference Board – that weird American company in Brussels. She had a very serious operation in Belgium and was full of praise over the treatment and care that she received. I’ve always said that Belgian health-care is the best in the world and that is where I would go if I were ever seriously ill, and so I asked her which hospital it was that she used.

It’s the one at Leuven, and having made enquiries, Alison told me that there is in fact a dedicated lymphoma department there. Furthermore, she rang them and it transpires that they would be glad to talk to me, and they passed their number onto her to give to me.

Why I’m doing this is that they have already told me that they don’t have the facilities to treat me in Montlucon. If I need treatment I have to go elsewhere. Clermont-Ferrand is, at the limit, acceptable because I’m still within some kind of travelling distance of possible visitors and facilities, but anywhere else is uncharted territory with no possibility of visits. Smuggling supplies into the hospital will therefore be extremely difficult and I’m not going to survive on what food a hospital can offer me.

Not only that, I’m dismayed at how much Flemish I have forgotten since I’ve left Brussels. I reckon therefore that a spell of immersion in a Flemish-speaking environment will do me the world of good.

An added advantage of Leuven is that there’s a Belgian 2nd-Division football club – OH Leuven, in the immediate vicinity and public transport in Belgium is very good. I’m sure that I can smuggle myself out of hospital occasionally on a Saturday night. If so, I can track down a fritkot too, and Alison has already promised to be my conduit for illicit food parcels.

I was thrown out of the hospital by 16:00 and I was wondering whether to go home for an hour or so but I wasn’t feeling up to much so I came back here. As a surprise, Liz and Kate have made me some vegan ice cream – strawberry and also choco-mint. It wasn’t ready for tea though but it will be fine for tomorrow. I hope that I’m still here to eat it, and not detained elsewhere.

I met up with the District Nurse too. He’s concerned about the continued use of this anti-coagulant and reckons that I ought to speak to the doctor about it tomorrow. he can understand why I needed it but it seems to him that the crisis has passed. He reckons that it’s now at the stage where it can be doing more harm than good, especially if I keep going for the total of three months for which it has been prescribed.

I’m all in favour of that. It’s costing me an arm and a leg for a start, and it will also mean that I can go back to having my Sunday morning lie-in. These continued 07:45 starts are killing me off.

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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.

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Wednesday 2nd December 2015 – JUST FOR A CHANGE …

… I didn’t have a great many interruptions today. And even better, being free of tubes and pipes for once, I took advantage of the shower that is in my little washroom here and had one of the nicest showers that I’ve ever had. And don’t I fell better for it? It certainly cheered me up.

Last night’s sleep was nothing much to write home about, particularly after the good night that I had had previously. But nevertheless I was on my travels once more during the night. I was running a taxi business with a group of kids, all about 9 or 10 and one day we were clearing up the yard and gathered together an enormous amount of waste or scrap which was valued at £280. For this, I was offered a brand-new car and that seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime deal to me so I was keen to accept. But these kids must have misunderstood because they thought that I was swapping it all for a set of new tyres, which was nothing like the same deal. as a result they insisted on accompanying me to do the deal. But we ended up in the local swimming baths and the papers somehow or other found their way into the water and no sooner had I retrieved one of them then another paper would find its way into the water and I had to fish that out of the water too. And so on.

And so having sorted myself out, I had the first of my visits today. I have finally made the acquaintance of the doctor who is dealing with my case. And while she’s not yet completed her enquiries, it’s pointing more and more towards a lymphoma. But in other news, my haemoglobin count has gone right down again to 7.8 and that means that this afternoon I’ll be having another blood transfusion.

We then had the usual pantomime with the Accounts Department. I shan’t bore you with the details because I’ve talked about them before, and doubtless I’ll be talking about them again. But basically, they are moaning that I haven’t paid them anything for my treatment so far. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I have an assurance from my former employers, and the idea is that whenever I go for any major treatment, I produce a card with an emergency phone number on it, the hospital or whatever phones it up and this opens a direct billing account. However, you might recall that the person on “reception” at the Emergency Admissions refused to call it up.

And so I had to request a form, which duly came, and I completed it and handed it to the hospital to fax off and to keep a copy so that they had all of the details to hand. But they refused to do that too, and so I had to post it off my snail mail.

And the result of all of this is that they now have to wait upon the pleasure of the Post office – and serve them right too.

While I was waiting for the blood I did the test that I needed to take for the end of my fourth week of my University course. I ended up with 90% which was disappointing as far as I was concerned because I fell down on the identification of the god Mithras and also on the pathological question concerning the kid’s skeleton that had been disinterred from under the floor of an army barracks.

I’m now four days behind on this course, despite at one stage of having been three days ahead. I need to get a wiggle on.

Later on, they came round with the blood.
“You’re having a lot of blood” said the nurse
“Well don’t worry” I replied. “If you run short, I’ll put on a black cape and prowl the streets of Montlucon at midnight”

They took so much time to organise themselves with this blood that by the time they had finished with the blood transfusion, it was after 22:00. I was too tired to try to watch a film and so I just crawled under the covers and went off to sleep.

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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.

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