I’m back! Missed me?
I had a surprise stay at The Royal Free all last week as most of you will know. It was pretty scary and I blame myself for gloating on Friday that I was through the worst of it. Fate burst out laughing and said “Oh you think so?”.
It’s never a good sign when you turn up to your last Radiotherapy session in a dressing gown, crying with pain. It scares the others. So they admitted me.
My first bed was in a shared ward. The woman opposite was a little confused and kept calling the nurses “waitress” so amongst other pain I had a badly bitten bottom lip from trying not to bark with laughter.
They soon moved me as my white blood cell count plummeted so I needed to be by myself – result! Unfortunately I wasn’t in a position to enjoy the perks because I was in so much pain. Having bleeding burns and no white blood cells to hurry along and start healing them isn’t very nice at all. Plus I had no control of my bladder and weeing on said burns is even less fun. To try and help that they put in a catheter …. then a bigger one. I think I now hold some sort of record as I pee’d straight through both of them. No, hold your applause!
It was the first time in this insane journey I felt truly helpless and felt I stopped fighting. I wanted to curl up and sleep for days – just wanted out. It only lasted a couple of days before I pulled my exosuit back on of course and got my gameface back on. I trained the tea lady to make the perfect cup of builders tea, quipped “mind my nail polish” everytime they put the pulse monitor on my finger and swore blind I wasn’t constipated to the doctor who then prodded my tummy and told me otherwise!
I must tell you about Murse the Nurse. Tiny Phillipina and a real angel. She was the one wiping away her own tears as she struggled to fit the second bigger catheter, she was the one who patiently changed my bed for the second time in five minutes without a murmer. She was the one on Saturday morning who waited for the ok long after her night shift had finished to take out my PICC line because I told her I was frightened it would hurt – it didn’t either.
I should also mention “scariest most incompetent nurse”. No names but maybe when giving patient an injection of antibiotics you shouldn’t say the name of it ending in a question mark and offer patient empty bottle like a wine waiter?
So, a week later I’m home. Got a little single bed in the dining room so I’m near the kitchen and bathroom. Got a fridgeful of food that finally I sort of feel like eating a bit of. I discovered a little sashimi is just right for a light lunch. My new white blood cells are doing a fantastic job of healing me and do you know, I’m sure the coordinates on the good ship Nostromo are set for Earth – ooh look it says”South Beach Miami” as well!