Sleepy Zombies

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That’s Bud’s contribution to today’s post.  He was lying at the side of me and put his head on my lap completely ignoring the fact that it was already occupied by the netbook.  Or, for all I know it could be a secret message to someone – ‘SOS.  Come get me I’m sick of tinned salmon.  They only give me pink because it’s cheaper than red’.  Okay maybe I should stop watching Homeland.

Speaking of watching things, I watch a fair amount of TV series/films that involve zombies, vampires, etc you know the sort of post apocalypse type things.    Now I’ve always thought that with my coping skills and initiative, and as long as I could obtain and learn how to use a gun or cross bow, I’d manage just fine particularly if the zombies were the really slow ones from the traditional films – the faster modern ones would give Usain Bolt a run for his money.  However, its become increasingly apparent that I could only manage now if I had a medical team (blood and kidley) along with a whole shed load of medication (particularly antibiotics as they always seem to be looking for them) and a pharmacist,  hand sanitiser (because people tend to look grubby in these sort of things), food (not just food but good food ‘cos treatment can make you uber fussy particular), a souped up mobility scooter (because I wouldn’t be able to run)… let’s face it learning to shoot straight would be the least of my problems.

 Oh and a dialysis machine.  Speaking of which I was so pooped yesterday after not being able to sleep on Monday night.  Usually I don’t have trouble nodding off but B had commented a couple of times while he was off on the fact that I was still awake when he came to bed over an hour later than me (and Bud) on pre-dialysis nights.  I think its like two friends who always had trouble sleeping on a Sunday night before work on a Monday.  I only said to my Auntie Ann the other weekend that I’m not as comfortable going unlike when I was going to the blood Day Unit this time last year.  We decided it was because I had to stay in one place for four continuous hours whereas even though I was sometimes at the Day Unit from 9.00 am until 2.00 pm I theoretically wasn’t restricted for most of that time.

Well Monday night I didn’t think I’d have any trouble sleeping.  I’d been to the Wool Shop in the morning and then took Bud for a double wander in the wood after deciding I wasn’t up to taking him for a walk on my own as I’d got a bit breathless walking through town.  Then when I had a rush of energy later in the afternoon I thought it would be a good idea to steam clean the floors while B went to his mother’s.  Bud has issues with the steamer – pouncing and barking at it, then settling down but eyeing it suspiciously when not on the bed avoiding it completely.  The phone rang when I’d just about finished downstairs and thinking it might be B I rushed to get it and ended up panting by the time I answered it – okay I might have been panting a little before – it wasn’t B but fortunately it was someone I knew well so it wasn’t a heavy breather phone call in reverse.  We chatted for about half an hour which was just as well as it gave me chance to get my breath back.  By the time B got home I’d nearly finished upstairs – I mean it’s not like it’s hard to do and I didn’t move any furniture just Bud’s basket, bins and a few other small things.  After all this I thought I would sleep really well that night but that wasn’t the case at all.  I’m just going to let that ‘all this’ sit there even though compared to what most people do in a day and certainly what I used to do ‘all this’ is ‘sod all’.

I made a bit of a boo boo with my painkillers too.  I took some at 4.00 pm just after I’d started and thought that if I took the others at 8.00 pm I’d get the benefit while I was still awake rather than taking them about 10.00 pm.  We (me and Bud or should that be Bud and I) went to bed at 10.45 pm and I just couldn’t nod off.  My back was cranky – that level where during the day it could be managed but when you’re trying to nod off it’s a bit distracting.  I finally thought ‘Well, I could take another Tramadol’ and went down to the kitchen to get one to discover that it was 1.02 am.  I went back to bed and contemplated getting up for an hour, having a drink, doing something crafty and then going back to bed as I have read that if you can’t sleep you should get up for a bit rather than just lie there but I kept thinking ‘No, I’ll nod off soon’.  I finally got up for a drink of milk and some malted wheat crackers and it was 3.22 am.  Doh! I had to get up at quarter to six.  As it was I did nod off and woke up wide awake at 5.23 am just before B pulled onto the drive.

I thought I’d at least have loads of time to drink the cup of tea B made us and eat my Weetabix but didn’t factor in throwing up after taking my tablets.  I took an anti-sickness and had some breakfast and fortunately took a sick bowl lined with a Poop Scoop bag with me as I saw the Weetabix and tea again on the trip to the Royal.  I probably would have made it without puking but the driver got a call asking him to go pick up someone who wasn’t originally on his list and me and breakfast parted company on the extended trip.

I tried to get a sleep yesterday tea time but think by that time I was over tired (I always thought that was an odd thing to say – that you’re too tired to sleep but it turns out to be true) and then the phone rang.  It was the friend who’d phoned on Monday and she was ringing to say that she thought she may be coming down with something so wasn’t too sure if she should visit last night.  We decided that I was probably at little risk of picking anything up as long as I didn’t lick her.  In case you’re wondering it’s a phrase that makes it easy to differentiate between infectious and contagious eg, chicken pox is contagious as you have to come into direct contact with stuff from the blisters either directly or through touching contaminated clothing so that falls into the licking category.  I know it’s not an exact scientific method but it works for me.

Just before Chris left at twenty to eleven I turned into a bit of a zombie myself and staggered upstairs straight after like I’d had a cup of whisky instead of tea while she was here.  I was asleep particularly before my head hit the pillow and got up at quarter past eight feeling not too awake but much better (with a little bit of delay onset muscle soreness presumably from using the steam cleaner – what a wimp) which is just as well since I need to take the car for a little spin later (only to the Post Office or I could wait until B gets up, mmmmm I’ll think about it) and I’m going out for my tea with a couple of friends – which reminds me I need to keep on top of the anti-sickness meds today just in case!

Bud’s taken over responsibility for being sick today.  At least I manage to get it into a pre-lined sick bowl and don’t just do it on the dining room floor.  Thank goodness for hard flooring.

Interesting Ears

Buddy went to see the Doggy Dermatologist yesterday for a follow up appointment with it being 12 weeks after he’d started getting his desensitising injections. As usual he didn’t disappoint and was the noisiest and most active dog there – ‘Talking’ at us to make his displeasure known and lying down for all of five seconds and then jumping back up to go under the chairs, whizz round our legs or pop his paws on our legs so he could ‘speak’ to us close up as we really weren’t getting the message.

There was a spaniel of some description quietly minding its own beeswax – actually it was sitting/standing on the plastic chairs next to its owner and Bud didn’t pay it any attention. A young lady arrived with a large black dog and B asked me what it was – I had no idea and the best I could do was say it looked like a BIG terrier but obviously that was no help, it turned out to be a Giant Schnauzer with very interesting ears – I asked – about the breed, Bud made enquiries about the ears which was so cute and funny.

Initially he didn’t really bother much about this dog, he did make a brief introduction but then went back to telling us he’d like to go but then a HUGE Newfoundland arrived and when the Schnauzer started paying attention to it (it had had a good Newfie friend until it moved) Bud decided he’d like to get in on the doggy action. Funnily enough he wasn’t too interested in the Newfie but was suddenly very interested in the Schnauzer and in particular his ears. Bud stood up on his back legs as this was the only way he could reach and started poking his nose in its ear. His owner said that a lot of dogs liked his ears. The next time Bud attempted it he decided there was an easier way than keeping his own balance and put his paws on the other dog’s neck – looking for all intents and purposes just like he was giving him a hug. The second time the Schnauzer thought this was too much and gave a little grumble, not much of one but Bud was being very familiar after all. The Schnauzer wasn’t too forceful however since when he lay down Bud didn’t hesitate to trot over and stick his nose in an ear without effort.

Fortunately we got called in soon after and Bud was able to hare around the vet’s consultation room off his lead. I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe us that he sometimes stayed still at home particularly as the nurse who Bud and B had been seeing for the injections had said how energetic he was. B popped him on the table and she snuck the injection in towards his rear end before he even noticed and he actually managed to stay on the table while his paws were checked, then B decided the easiest way to get him down was to let him go and he leaped onto the floor.

Everything was good and B decided that he’d take Bud back for the next injection at least. Well everything was good until we were waiting to pay and Bud cocked his leg up on the nice ‘free delivery’ display board. In the second before I poked B, as he was hold of the lead, Bud got a noticeable amount out but when I gushed about it to the receptionist she said it happened all the time. Indeed when I brought him back from out trip outside to let him finish off I noticed a puddle on another corner.

With me I’ve been having a bit of trouble over the past week and a bit with hand washing and a couple of other incidents which must be a result of the dexamethasone. It’s been bearable, only a shadow of what happened previously, and is probably worse because its brought back how bad it was last time (which was nearly three years ago) and which I couldn’t believe how much of the intensity I’d actually forgotten. There have been a few poo moments but I think its got easier today generally and I’ve still been able to knit every day, make butties and of course blog.

And today I accompanied Bud and B on their walk which slowed them down but Bud seemed to get quite excited about it and ran about like a loon and did a bit of barking at us, well mainly B, and he isn’t a barker – B and crackers, it turns out, being the only things he barks at, not the door bell . I managed it without a sit down which impressed B and I only had to ask him to slow down the once.

Lots of Buddies

We’ve had a spate of Myeloma Buddy production going on over the past few months.  If I’m a bit stuck for something to take out with me or just need something small I knit a Buddy.  When I was thinking of posting the pics I realised that I’d never said where the orange Myeloma Buddy army went last year.

The 100 Buddies were ordered by Myeloma UK – orange or rather ORANGE being their corporate colour.  They are available direct from them and are listed in their site shop right here.  They’re also for sale at their Info Days.

While I’m at it there’s also a link to my Buddies in the FUNdraisers section of the IMF site (International Myeloma Foundation that is not the better known but less fantastic International Monetary Fund).

Mmm, wonder what one would look like in fabric?

Other creative spaces are here.

When I went for dialysis today I asked about the results of the 24 hour wee collection from Monday.  Apparently the level of toxins in it that my kidneys had filtered is not yet normal but is going up.  The blood test showed my calcium level is on the low side even though my Calci-chew dose was increased three weeks ago from 2g a day to 4g so the nurse said she’d get a doctor to review it when I went in on Saturday.  

The Perils of Parking

You may recall that B can be a little ‘precious’ about the his car and the one thing he hasn’t had to worry about since last November is me driving it – until yesterday!  I didn’t even tell him about my intention as I thought to quote a friend ‘don’t trouble trouble’.

With not having dialysis yesterday and our next door neighbours collecting me from Liverpool after I’d dropped off my bottle of wee I knew I would be back in time to drive myself to Armchair Yoga.  It’s not far to our new location, just four miles, but it gets busy along the road and I was a tad apprehensive.  BUT I had the incentive to make a shorter trial run to our GPs’ medical centre – the incentive being I’d run out of stronger painkillers.  If your giving me any kind of look you can save your facial muscles because B already did it when he found out.  How did I do this?  I’m not too sure – I was going to try and explain but when I started typing things they still have me thinking – how did I manage to run out.  Needless to say some niggly pain can certainly be an incentive.

I was reversing off the drive thinking ‘What am I doing?’ followed swiftly by ‘It’ll be fine.’ and it was – apart from a windy moment on the small car park at the medical centre, a little ‘kerb drill’ as my Dad used to say when I moved too far over to allow a car past on our road (I have to say I forgot to tell B about it) and this…

The car is 51cm (20″) from the porch window, a reasonable distance I think but which in B’s opinion is too close.

B had briefly woke up after I’d been to the doctors and when he discovered that I’d been out in the car he wanted to know ‘if it was alright’.  He and Bud were out walking when I arrived back from Armchair Yoga and I looked up from what I was doing in the kitchen to find B giving the car the once over and then when he saw me he shouted ‘Could you get it any closer?’  Well obviously I could of.  It’s one of those things were usually I’d have to push it but I could just see it ending in an emergency glazier and paying extra to have it done before B woke up – he’d probably sleep through the bang.

The best thing is I was actually relieved that B hadn’t seen me stop on the drive since the position the car ended up was the first place we stopped or more likely STOPPED.  At least I know the brakes are good.

A fellow Armchair Yoga-ist said that when he saw our car on the car park he fully expected to walk in and find B in a chair!

Bud and I also went for a tramp in the wood yesterday – a short walk that is as opposed to setting about a vagrant – another first since November.  We went again today at Bud’s insistence.  You do something that he likes once and it sets a precedent.

Crochet Catch-up

I thought it was about time I got up to date with the stuff I’d crocheted this year so far.

Another cot/pram blanket in the Greenway pattern from Comfort Knitting and Crochet Afghans in lemon and white.

This one is 75cm x 95cm and took four x 100g balls.  With the pink and white one I had more of the pink left but this used it up pretty evenly resulting in a two tone edging…

which hopefully looks like a design feature rather than a necessity.

I finished the chunky afghan I started when I lent my 4.5mm hook to my sister in law.

Its about 100cm x 130cm and I found some cream and blue chunky I had lying around – not too sure where it came from.

The green was given to me by the same yoga friend as the lilac and I had to use it double.  I gave my Auntie En the remainder last week for her blankets as I didn’t think I’d use it single and was in no rush to do anything else on a BIG hook.

And I finished the bits and bobs afghan with the 4.5mm hook…

I do think it would have looked better with all the squares edged in the same colour – more together.  This is about 90cm x 120cm.

It got a row of double crochet (US single crochet) for the edging with the second row done in reverse double crochet.  Hey it’s simple but effective.

This and the chunky one are for the South African creche/hospital via one of our GPs’ receptionists.

Gill, my sis in law, has still got the crocheting bug and when she mentioned that she was going to buy herself a selection of hooks I thought that might be a good idea for a Birthday present at the end of this month.  How about these for colourful and very reasonable at £8.99 from Amazon – certainly cheaper than buying plain grey ones individually and although I haven’t test driven any but they got good reviews and feel nice to handle.

The Fire

It wasn’t a big fire, it wasn’t even a dramatic fire – well I guess depending on your definition of dramatic (B may dispute this but the couple when I lived at home involving a tea towel above the grill catching light and a pan with a bit of oil in were more dramatic as far as I’m concerned) but it was definitely a fire.

Last Saturday, even though I was a tad tired, I rashly said to B that if he liked I’d make pancakes for breakfast on Sunday.  Needless to say he was quite enthusiastic and pointed out that it had been quite a while since I’d made them.  To be honest since Christmas B has done the vast majority of the cooking and has got very good at doing steaks – beef or lamb.  I just take over as head chef if it involves anything that couldn’t be defined as a steak – apart from frozen scampi.

So Sunday I made pancakes.  Now I can’t say that I started this task with tons of enthusiasm and I also can’t say that the meal we had them for was breakfast although it was our first meal of the day.  I only entered the kitchen, in my jim jams straight from bed well maybe not straight I’d probably used the bathroom first, at 12.03!  I know, what a slob!  It is the longest lie in I’ve had in years and years.

So before I could change my mind I set to and mixed the pancake batter in a half asleep manner but let’s face it it’s not sending a rocket to the moon – or curing myeloma so although I couldn’t remember the exact quantity I usually make (was it one and a half cups of flour or two) it’s not like anyone’s life depended on it.

I’d shouted upstairs to see if B wanted a milky coffee and when he said he did I’d popped the milk in the pan and set it on the gas hob while the pancake pan was warming up.  I invested, not much, in an actual pancake pan.  It’s very flat with a tiny lip round the edge and means that even the first pancake is perfect but the surface is now a bit iffy so I give it a light coating of light olive oil.  In my half asleep state I’d been a bit exuberant with the oil so there was quite a bit heating up.  B then arrived in the kitchen and pointed out that the milk for his coffee wasn’t on.  Now I don’t deal well with mither within two hours of waking up at the best of times and I was really groggy so I believe I may have muttered something about it usually being ready with his pancakes while noticing that the oil on the pancake pan was borderline smoking.  Now I could have removed the pan from the flame but that would have been too easy obviously and would have slowed the process down – even though I knew I wasn’t going to break any records that day.  On a good day I can go from eggs, flour and milk to sitting down to pancakes, milky coffee and orange juice in twenty minutes.  What?  Doesn’t everyone time themselves doing stuff?  Huh?  I think it may have to do with B always asking how long stuff takes to make and getting a bit antsy if I say half an hour and it turns out to take three.  That said, when we did a weekly shop I used to time myself putting it away (three minutes) oh, and when I changed the bed sheets/duvet cover (five minutes).

Right, I think that’s all I timed.  The first because putting the groceries away was really boring and the second to make a point after the m-i-l had told me I was ‘a cheeky bugger’.  I know I was shocked too I mean it’s not like I asked for it…

m-i-l:  ‘We’ve been really busy today.’  It was a number of years ago and my father in law was still alive plus I was still capable of changing the bed without my back kicking off – B does it now and no, I’ve never timed him.

me:  ‘Have you.’  No, I don’t need a question mark as I wasn’t really asking at this point.

m-i-l:  ‘Oh yes!’

Now I wouldn’t have usually asked but since she was always saying she was busy and considering my Auntie En is a year older and at the time looked after her husband, cooked a homemade tea every night (as opposed to anything out of a tin) and made up lunch for one of her sons who’d moved back home along with knitting, sewing, crocheting blankets for charity and going to tailoring or upholstery classes at the local college I did sometimes wonder what the m-i-l’s definition of busy was and curiosity got the better of me on this occasion.

me:  ‘What did you do?’

m-i-l:  ‘We stripped the bed and put the sheets in the wash, then put them on the line and then when they were dry re-made the bed.’

me:  ‘So that took you ten minutes.  What did you do after that?’

m-i-l:  ‘You cheeky bugger.’

Where was I?  Oh yes – the fire.  So the pan was smoking and I couldn’t be bothered to do the sensible thing and take it off the flame… I plucked a few pieces of paper kitchen towel out of the cupboard and whipped them swiftly over the pan to remove the excess so that I could pop some batter on the pan but where should I put the now oily towels.  Oh yes, it’s all too easy to say from the other side of your computer screens that the bin may have been a good idea but B was in the way and I needed to get batter on the pan ASAP.  I couldn’t put them on the worktop as I believe I may have mentioned they were oily and that would have involved more cleaning up so it made perfect sense, at the time not so much now I have to admit, to pop them on the gas burner behind the one with the pancake pan and next to the one with the milk pan.  I then proceeded to switch on the flame under the milk pan – except, as you may have guessed, I switched on the one under the oily paper towels by mistake.

Now I think I may have mentioned in the past that I’m your gal for an emergency but B isn’t your guy.  However on this particular occasion he did in fact deal with it exceptionally well, which was good as I was even calmer than usual – to the point of it possibly looking like catatonic inaction.  I watched as the paper towel burst (which I think describes it pretty accurately) into flames and worked itself up into a quite a flame, at least twelve inches high even after I’d switched off that burner.   I could feel B hovering behind me waiting for me to do something but hey, I figured this was the reason that extractor hoods and wall cupboards have to be a certain distance from hobs.  So although I did think that it was probably quite rational to try and put out the flames since it seemed highly unlikely they would set fire to or even singe anything else surely the easiest thing all round was just to let them burn themselves out.  B however didn’t feel the same and started muttering things about damp tea towels so I figured ‘What the heck it might make him feel better’ and let him run one under the tap.  Now I did notice that the towel ended up more ‘wet’ than ‘damp’ and so took over and extinguished the flames.

All we lost was one pancake and not even as a direct result.  B suggested it might be a good idea to remove the tea towel from the hob, because he’s practical like that, and as I lifted it up a little piece of incinerated paper towel fluttered down onto the uncooked side of the pancake.  I believe the look I gave B implying that this loss was his fault was a step too far.  He didn’t say as much I just guessed from the way he snatched open the kitchen door and stormed off with the soggy singed tea towel into the garage.

I gave him a hug when he came back in because it must have been a bit of a shock – after all it was his first kitchen fire and my third.

 An lookie ‘ere, I finished the little aran cardy, hat and mittens…

Twisted cables

I knew I’d have to do it – maybe if it had been for me I would have fought the urge but as it wasn’t I undid the back and rectified my cabling boo boo.  Then I undid it again as I’m obviously still behind with my sleep (well that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it) and made another boo boo when I reknit it because I couldn’t do two things at the same time – don’t tell B he readily accepts with me as a prime example that women can do 16 things at the same time whilst men can’t do one and a half.  Two of our neighbours called round yesterday afternoon and while knitting and chatting I missed another cable twist out of the new knitting.

Mind you it’s not like I need much of a distraction at the minute I also had to undo the left front twice last night and in fact somehow the right front ended up as the left front (ie, the v-neck slope was on the wrong side) and vice versa – so although the right front was ‘right’ it should have been ‘left’!

Fortunately the sleeve turned out to be a sleeve AND had the correct amount of cabling.

It’s not just knitting I’ve been having trouble with.  I tried a logic puzzle last weekend – just one of the simple ones at the very beginning of the puzzle book that only have three answers and with a great deal of effort I got the first one right and the second one completely wrong.  It would have been easier trying to plait fog.  I can’t say it’s got much better since.  However a friend who called round on Wednesday night said that she was glad to see I had my ‘Paula sparkle’ back as it had been a while.  I must be at my best at night as I’m pretty sure B wouldn’t say I sparkle in a morning!

And now I have some potentially very good news from the visit from the renal doctors yesterday.  Basically my kidney function is borderline for coming off dialysis.  I’m having dialysis as usual tomorrow then I get to wee into a container again for 24 hours from 6am Monday to 6am Tuesday and go in for blood tests on Tuesday but no dialysis.    It could be that the amount of dialysis can be reduced if it can’t be stopped altogether and the dialysis type changed and I could do it at home.  I have to admit the brief description of tubes in tummies didn’t exactly have me saying ‘Yay, sign me up now.’  I was home from dialysis yesterday by 12.30 as B came and picked me up.

I’m still getting the migrainy visual disturbances but fortunately no follow up headache.  In fact last  night I got the netbook out to blog and then couldn’t see the screen clearly enough – indeed it’s going funny again now.

My mouth is a teeny bit sorer which may, or may not, have something to do with Sherbet Lemons!

I would also like to point out (and I think that as I can I need to blame either disturbed sleep patterns or medication for this) that it doesn’t constitute a REAL fire unless you need to call the fire brigade – even if the flame is a foot high and it nearly makes your husband enter a state of shock.

Other creative spaces can be found here.

‘There’s nothing like a day out’

B was heard to say as we got back in the car today after going to Liverpool for our first kidney clinic appointment.  ‘Yes’ I replied ‘and that was nothing like a day out.’

I’d inadvertently cramped our dining possibilities by telling Auntie Eleanor at weekend that B would pick her up and bring her to visit this afternoon.  Since our appointment was 11.30 I didn’t think it was physically possible to get to the Asian restaurant that had been recommended, by a friend of Sean, eat and get back.  We’d only said on Friday it’s four months since we actually ate out and when we asked for my blood counts on Saturday my neutrophils were high enough to deal with bacteria laden restaurant food – though with all the spices potentially involved it would probably have been a safe bet anyway.  I’d had a GCSF injection on Friday and my neutrophils on Saturday were 12!  Yes 12 – normal range is 2.0 to 7.5 and I don’t know when mine have ever been near the higher end of this so it took a bit of digesting before I remembered the neutrophil boosting injection.  As it turned out I’d decided that I’d rather see Auntie En than eat out on this occasion so I wasn’t waiting for din dins.

I’d thought that after a long day yesterday we’d just nip out to the Royal today, have the appointment and get back home in under three hours.  Yesterday no ambulance transport had turned up by 7.00 to ferry me to dialysis so I rang and they confirmed that the team had left and I was on the list.  They then rang back at 7.30 and said they’d sent a taxi.  In the end I was only hooked up to the dialysis machine at quarter to nine so finished at quarter to one but didn’t have to wait that long at all for a lift home.  The trip home itself however involved a visit to a nearby hospital to collect and then drop off another patient and then a stop of an hour and a half at another hospital as the patient there couldn’t be located.  They or rather we, went to every conceivable collection point.  It turned out that another team had collected her hours ago but no-one had told our crew that she was no longer their responsibility.    At least I know that if I go AWOL at any point they won’t leave without me.  B had decided that he was going to come get me and when I rang him to say that we were finally on our way it turned out he was nearly there – although he didn’t tell me that.  The first I knew was when we pulled onto the main dual carriageway and stopped at traffic lights and my attention was caught by someone shouting outside.  My attention was peaked further as I thought ‘I know that voice’.  B was stopped at the side and was shouting to the driver ‘I’ll take Paula home’.  They pulled over at the nearby bus stop and one of the ambulance guys carried all my bags and coat to the car and explained/apologised to B.  So from being ready at just after six AM it was half three when we got back home.

As it turned out today we did do it in under three hours.  Well, we did the trip to the Royal and the trip home but we didn’t get the clinic appointment.  No, it wasn’t me, I had the right date/time.    We’d waited for a bit in a busy waiting area and then decided we’d go for a drink.  The receptionist said we should check with one of the nurses as there was only a few in front of me in the clinic I was in.  The nurse asked what time my appointment was (11.30), said that they were up to quarter to ten and gave me two free tea/coffee/cup of water tickets.

We had our free cup of tea/coffee/cup of water and in fact I hadn’t quite finished mine when our buzzer went off and we headed back to the clinic.  The receptionist said that the doctor had just left and the nurse would have a word with us.  As it happened a very apologetic health care assistant came over and explained that she’d weighed me and taken my wee sample but had put my file in the transplant pile rather than the renal pile and the consultant had gone without seeing my notes but they were going to see if one of the registrars would come down and see me.  About five minutes later we got called in and told that the registrar was in a meeting but either someone could see me on dialysis tomorrow or we could come back next week.  B is back at work next week so we opted for tomorrow.  I said ‘Well at least we got a free cup of coffee’ and she said ‘Well you would have got that anyway’.  WHAT! – we’ve never had a free cup of water let alone tea or coffee at the blood clinic and we have an ‘ology in waiting there.

On the upside all this transportation has meant imposed craftiness time and indeed after making a denim and white stripped Myeloma Buddy for a member of the Royal catering staff a friend of hers asked for two too…

and the catering lady asked for something else for her first grandson who is due in May.  She was telling me that her son and his girlfriend are going to give the baby her younger son’s name as a middle name since her younger son had died a few years ago at 19 after being ill since he was six weeks old.  You know that old saying about treating people considerately because you never know what things they are dealing with is sometimes so true.

Anyhoo, we opted for a little aran type jacket age six to nine months which I started yesterday…

but there’s a boo boo! I noticed something was amiss when the pattern on the front wasn’t finishing at the same point as the pattern on the back.  Now I had trouble working out where exactly I’d gone wrong and I’m pretty sure it’s not that noticeable and I could probably get away with it but could I live with that?   Probably not.

And here’s a photo of Bud that I’ve been meaning to take for ages but have never seemed to have the camera to hand at the right time…

he starts to get off the settee and then just stops with this front legs on the floor and back legs, stretched or bunched up, or in this case 50/50 still on the cushion and then just stands there for ages.  His Auntie Chris told him he looks like a dork but I find it quirkily endearing and it’s not like I’m biased or anything.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

SLEEP – Don’t you just love it? I know I do. Although B would probably say that I am fonder of it than most. I think I have very nearly caught up with the sleep I missed whilst on my short Royal-cation. I can’t remember having so many late nights – what with the dialysis and then the ‘deep clean’ on Thursday – I’ve never ever had such a late night out. I’m sure I could easily become nocturnal I certainly function better at night that in a morning.

We (me and two fellow patients) were relocated from the ward to the waiting area of the day unit when the patient who’d arrived on Tuesday night started having oxygen and blood pressure problems during a plasma exchange. We were camped out in the waiting area in our jim jams and with accompanying attachments (in my case two bags of chemo, my netbook and knitting) by about noon. It turned out that one of the people wearing clothes was actually waiting for the bed of the fellow patient due to go home that afternoon but who was at that moment in time still connected to a bag of blood which resulted in her companion telling a number of people over the phone that ‘No, she hasnt got a bed yet. The woman whose bed she’s having is currently sitting opposite.’

By five I’d decamped to one of the day unit treatment rooms, one fellow patient had managed to successfully get discharged and the other had wangled a side room all to herself. It turned out that she had bug related diarrhoea and the entire room needed cleaning. This entailed my stuff ending up in bags in the shower room while everything, including my cabinet, was deep cleaned (our washing powder smells very nice apparently as per the nurse who packed). Initially we thought I’d be back in the room about eight. Then the sign on the actual door said ‘No Entry until 10.30pm’. By eleven the night nurse had chased up where the cleaners were as the room needed tidying. Seriously it was a mess. I’d thought it would just involve making the beds but chairs and tables were all piled on the beds. I was tucking into a late night Pot Noodle at this point as I couldn’t get comfy with my back on the comfy recliner I was on by then. It then transpired that the button on the deep cleaning machine hadn’t been pressed and it needed to be done again – actually ‘again’s’ not right is it – it needed to be done!

I was provided with a bed in the day room but just couldn’t nod off despite looking forward to going to bed (a term that always amuses B when I use it when in hospital) from getting up that morning. I ended up watching two films and looking at the clock for the last time at four am. I woke up at ten to six as the night staff were about to roll me up the corridor to the ward. It was just as well that I was discharged on Friday as the new patient, even though she said she’d had two hours sleep and was really tired was waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too perky Friday morning. I thought ‘HELP! I’m not going to be able to cope with her first thing in a morning after a good night’s sleep!’

So I’ve been getting flashy lights and other visual disturbances, typical of a migraine, since last week and initially thought this was due to the unusual sleeping pattern but seem to remember reading somewhere about steroids and migraines. I’ve only had a small dose (80mg over eight days) and they finished Friday so if it is related hopefully it should abate shortly.

Generally other than being part comatose I’ve felt okay. I’m still taking anti sickness tablets (Ondansetron and Cyclyzine) and they certainly seem to be doing the job. I’m also being really diligent with the mouth care (mouth wash and Nystatin about four times a day) and so far my tongue is a teeny, tiny bit tender – resulting in me occasionally feeling like I have a lisp – and it looks a bit furry.

Speaking of tender, I have felt tender all over. Kinda like muscle soreness without the benefit of exercising. It’s fine unless I’m touched! I do remember feeling like this when having Doxorubicin this time last year. It’s a lot easier today but I admit when I was half asleep getting out of bed yesterday I gave myself a little start when I thought my dialysis line exit site was sore and then I remembered that everything was sore.

I managed to get my pre Royal-cation ‘To Do’ list done except for one thing – Auntie Ann and Uncle Ray’s Christmas present. What’s frustrating is that I know exactly what I want to get them but can’t find it. Anyhoo one of the items on the list was fabric for backing my Christmas embroideries. I found just what I wanted on ebay…

It arrived last week and B opened it.

B: ‘There was another package.’

Me: ‘Was it fabric?’

B: ‘Yes. Is it cleaning cloth?’

And look even Bud’s not impressed. Mind you with the migrainy eyes I don’t think I’ll be tackling the stripes any time soon.

 

 

 

Guess where I am

Go on guess.  Ohhhhhh, you’re taking too long,  I’ll just tell ya – Nestled on the settee at home!

Freshly showered and jim jammed with Bud on his mat playing with a toy and B upstairs hoovering.  I would have blogged a few minutes earlier but it’s a bit hard when you invite the small furry family member to join you on the comfy seat and he takes this to mean ‘come lay across my lap’.

To say being discharge was a little bit of a surprise is a tiny bit of an understatement but obviously a fantastic one – particularly bearing in mind last night’s lack of sleep.

Ohhh, nutha little Buddy attention break there.

So yes, there was a question about which days I went to the day unit but with going to dialysis three times a week I don’t – they do the bloods there and then they get looked at in Haematology.  I thought it maybe had to do with getting things in place next week.

Then I was pottering around with mouthwash when the ward pharmacist turned up – it’s relevant that I was on my feet as I managed to see ‘Discharge Medication’ on her paperwork.  ‘Erm?’ with nod of my head towards paperwork.  ‘Has no-one said anything about going home today or tomorrow?’  ‘That would be no.’

Big small furry family member fussin’ as B and Hetty the Hoover moved downstairs and Bud wanted a safe position from which to supervise – ‘Don’t get that Hetty too close to my toys.’

The pharmacist pointed out that there were some consultants on the ward so something may be said shortly and we agreed I wouldn’t hold anything against her if it didn’t pan out.    Shortly after a regular but different pharmacist turned up to actual go through the tablets in my meds locker and I asked about more painkillers and mouthwash – just in case.

And now another interruption for tea – ours and Bud’s – we all had curry and rice.

Then the nurse responsible for our room came over and said had I heard anything about going home as she’d seen my Discharge Letter printed off.  When I explained I hadn’t officially been told anything she said she’d check with the registrar when the docs had finished their meeting.

All of this transpired between B ringing me to say he was on his way in with all my current requests and ringing me from the shop across the road from the Royal to ask if I wanted big of small Pot Noodles.  A thing I can’t remember having eaten at home but rediscovered via a fellow patient this week – better than hospital food and not a big serving.  Needless to say he didn’t say ‘Yipee’ when he found out he might have a passenger on the way home.

Initially he wanted to go home and get my big coat just in case – but since we didn’t know 100% I thought that was a bit of a waste – particularly as he said at that time of night (about five o’clock) he would probably be two hours!  We comprised on my new cut down ‘Bagpuss’ style cardigown…

seriously I had street clothes but no coat, so persuaded B that I would wait in the lobby doing a ‘Bagpuss’ impression there and all the way home.  Home where – hoovering hadn’t been done, the bathroom hadn’t been cleaned and the sheets hadn’t been changed last week.  B did initially say that it may be better if I came out Saturday – this is probably why!  I’m generally well I’ll go home whenever and don’t get too excited just in case but I have to admit I nearly wet myself at the very prospect of getting home to my bed and okay, maybe the small furry family member as well.

Despite a teeny, tiny touch and go moment the ward nurse said it was the fastest discharge she’d done and she managed this even though she was having one of the craziest shifts ever.

By quarter to seven I was able to say to Bud ‘Go fetch your bone’ as I walked into the garage and he promptly popped into the house and went upstairs for it – much to B’s amusement as he hadn’t touched in all week.

I’m about to completely snuggle down on the settee as the sheets are currently in the dryer!  B’s just got the bathroom to go but since I’ve already used it there’s  no rush!