Category Archives: stem cell transplant

Look at my Watch…

‘That’s a nice watch.’

Why, thank you, yes it is.  I can just about lift my arm up with it on.  I’m going to have to swap wrists regularly otherwise my left arm muscles are going to be so much bigger than the right.  It was a birthday present!  It’s the thought that counts!  And the thoughts were probably I’m always on the last minute and I like purple!  Don’t you think it makes my wrist look small – if only there was something that had the same effect on my backside.  I wonder if I could get FitFlops or Skechers Shape-ups on prescription.

I never wear a watch and this coupled with my current scattiness is not a particularly good combination.

Monday parking ticket.

Tuesday missed BBQ at the blood support group (not that I was intending on risking the BBQ’ed meat, or salad or anything that had been manhandled by anybody who didn’t have a detailed itinery available of exactly where their hands had been all day – other than on the end of their wrists of course) and B nearly had sniffer dogs, mountain rescue and the coastguard looking for me – which could have been quite neat really, a ride in a helicopter!

I did however remember to pick up and drop off the yoga-ing ex vicar and there started my problem.  I went in for a cup of tea at 15:20 thinking I had plenty of time to get home for 17:00 for B to take me to the Blood Group Meeting.

When I got asked did I want a second cup of tea, I enquired what time it was and I’d been having such a good time that I not given a thought to time and there it was 17:00!  My own mobile was in the car, as it turned out with no charge and 9 pence worth of credit – this in itself isn’t that unusual I’m not a big fan of mobiles.  When I rang B much to my surprise he wasn’t a happy bunny – can you believe that.

Now if I’d driven home there and then technically we could still have made it to the Sunflowers Centre but this is B we are on about who had pulled his face at taking me in the first place – I had a lift home and the lady who I normally go with was at the centre all day but would have come back and picked me up but I thought I’d inconvenience B instead.  So I decided it would make my life so much easier if I didn’t push this so I had another cup of tea, a couple of biscuits and got home at 18:50 – via car rather than helicopter as B had only phoned my sister in law, Gill, and one of my friends.

I did apologise to B for having so much fun with a vicar that I lost track of time!

Scatterbrained!

Well I truly excelled myself today in the fluff head department. Previously I have been quite sharp to the point of being in danger of cutting myself whilst at the minute I’m as sharp as a sausage.

I did myself a list for the day so nothing essential was missed off.  Acupuncture appointment with Deb, pick up material, finish myeloma buddy and donkey nosebands* for yoga tomorrow, make cards for blood group meeting tomorrow and a couple of non deadline things.

(* I sold three Buddies last week at yoga, by accident, and agreed that in exchange for keeping the change I would make a donkey noseband for WSPA.)

It was the first time I’d been to Debs since getting back from holiday. So during an in-depth how did it go I mentioned that I was experiencing forgetfulness, but as long as it didn’t get to the point of needing to do a list saying – have wash, clean teeth, go to the toilet – it would be okay.

And then it cost me £25!

I’d paid for two hours on the car park from 11:34 – you can see where this is going. I left Debs at about 13:20 called for some green tea at the health shop and as I was leaving thought I’ll just nip and get some hand sanitizer from an adjoining shop. Whilst there I was pondering the wiseness of getting the m-i-l something germ neutralising so that I don’t get Ebola from her kitchen cloths, okay bit of an exaggeration, maybe just Marburg, when my mobile rang. It was the occupational therapist over the bath seat the m-i-l is refusing to have fitted. The therapist thought it may be a good idea for her to call round with it instead of getting the workman to turn up and have the m-i-l throw a wobbler. So she was ringing to make an appointment for this. I sorted that out and then picked the appropriate ‘kills 99.9% of bacteria within a two mile radius’ products and it was only when I was on my way back to the car park that I even gave a thought to the time.

Low and behold I got back to the car and there’s a traffic warden keying the car’s details into his little machine. He apologised twice and said I could appeal it at a nearby building but I was 10 minutes late so how could I argue.

I was getting a bit teary on the way home – it’s just a parking ticket, wasting £25 fair enough, but a parking ticket, no damage to the car, no points on my licence, no biggy.

B was up when I got home and asked what was up as I seemed quiet. Nothing. A little later as B was getting lunch (well warming up soup) he asks again and I start crying, what the … So then B is looking really worried because I rarely cry and asks

‘Who’s died?’

‘Nobody, I got a parking fine.’

‘Is that all?’ laughing with relief ‘I knew you’d done nothing to the car I’ve been out and checked. Why are you so upset? It’s just a ticket, you don’t get any points on your licence.’

‘I know! It’s the thought that I didn’t even think about it until I was on my way back to the car park. I get distracted by something and everything else goes out of my head.’

To do list for Tuesday

  • Get up
  • Go to the toilet
  • Brush teeth
  • Have shower
  • Get dressed
  • 11:30 – Pick up fellow yoga participant (Need at all costs to avoid having to say at lunch ‘Excuse me I’ll be back shortly…’)

Addendum – I checked my email before posting this and there was one from the MMA List (which for those of you not familiar is a mailing list where you can send out myeloma questions/information). It contained a link to ‘Jim’s Story’ on Heroes Web TV. It’s worth a look – Jim was diagnosed in 1996. It’s nice, he seems, as is compulsory, lovely – my eyes sprung a bit of a leak again, whilst smiling though this time, it must be something in the water, or maybe I need a plumber.

Just What I Need…

I went out for the afternoon with a friend to Ikea, where after about three hours hard shopping we had purchased a late lunch and a packet of 200 drinking straws in funky grown-up colours!  Our husbands were really impressed. Chris’s on ringing to see when she would be home ‘You’re still at Ikea!’  B on finding out I’d splashed out on straws ‘Why, we have some?’  Funky grown-up colours, that’s why!

A trip to Boots was required on the way home where the sales lady was very pleasant and beamed (I have no idea why) when she gave me my receipt along with accompanying money off voucher…

Now all I need is hair by the 13th!

Where’s the week gone?

Monday – Exercise bike – 20 mins only.  Started making a dress.  Left home at 13:30 to go to the Royal to check Septrin hadn’t affected blood counts (it hadn’t), got home at 17:30.  Did some knitting.

Tuesday – Took it easy as we weren’t having another worn out Wednesday.  Back little bit niggly.  Did more knitting.  Bit of sewing.  Honed my skills at match three game.

Wednesday – Decided to go to Ikea first thing to check out bed linen.  First thing turned out to be about 11:00 because I only got up at 9:15 after waking up a view times and them B coming to bed and fidgeting.

Ikea turned about to have way too many people – as B had told me and reminded me that he had told me so several times later.  I did however manage to see some storage units that would look fantastic in the back bedroom but they form a post in their own right.

Decided to do look at dresses in TK Maxx on the way home, then decided that the way home should be my second trip on a motorway.  This one a bit busier than the first.

But hey why go to St Helens when I could stay on the motorway and go to Southport (and get some yarn that Auntie En had got from a cheap shop), it’s only up the road (the yarn not costing more for the petrol used of course), not far at all knitting wise, however driving concentration wise it was 25 miles from where I was and going a way that meant going to places I’d never been before in my life, driving or passengering!

Get to Southport.  Can’t see the shop on the retail park where I thought it was.  Carry on driving trying to avoid the town centre.  Realise if I don’t have a wee I am going to pop.  In the attempt to get onto a supermarket car park a warning light comes on in the car.  Oh bum!  Get the handbook out.  Can’t see anything at all about warning lights, but do find out how to operate a mobile phone hands free system and integral sat nav, both of which the car doesn’t have.  Need to go for a wee because I can’t concentrate on the book and not having an accident at the same time.

On the way into the supermarket notice a stand asking me have I paid and displayed.  Well no I haven’t.  By this time I am prepared to live dangerously and take the risk of getting a fine.  ‘I’m bald and I needed a wee, my husband will have a wobbler please don’t give me a fee.  Did I mention I’m bald?  By the way I’ve had a stem cell transplant so don’t stand so close I don’t know where you’ve been!’

Get back to the car and find no fine.  Phew.  Switch the engine on in case the light has disappeared.  Doh!  Carry on looking at the book.  Ahhh, this would be the emissons indicator light.  ‘If the light stays on or flashes on and off seek service advice promptly.’  Does that mean I can drive home first?  What the hell.  Turn the engine back on and the light has disappeared.  Yeah!

Drive on.  Decide whilst I’m here I might as well go to the beach.  There’s not much chance of seeing the sea in Southport but nevertheless…  Find a tiny car park with a surface that would have made B blanch.  Realise it’s 13:30 and B is getting up at 14:00 to take the car to see about a recall.  Yes we got a letter on Saturday saying that it needed a new thermostat fitted as it may be defective.  Did I laugh, well yes I did while B sought to look unbothered by it.  Yeah right!

Nearly made it to the beach before it was time to head for home via a route I was familar with eventually and which included several sets of roadworks including convoy systems!

Get home, need a lie down in a dark room with a couple of painkillers (back little bit more niggly) and a cold drink.  Get cold drink and trip out to Service Centre to book car in following look and slight lecture on taking it easy and pushing myself too hard.

Get home again.  Try dress on which was just shy of finishing edges.  Get stuck in dress as zip not long enough and dress too tight.  Stop just short of claustraphopbic attack.  B no asisstance whatsover in removing me from dress.  No unfinished seam to rip so keeping slashing with scissors to last resort, ended up unpicking zip while breathing shallowly.

Thursday -Wake up 4:49.  Too hot.  Get drink.  Can’t get back to sleep.  Knit, watch TV.  Nod off.  Wake up 6:30ish.  More TV.  Look through Ikea catalogue and fantaise about shelving and getting rid of spare mother in law er I mean, mother in law’s bed  for a chair bed (like a sofa bed but smaller).  Bit more nodding.

Leave home 9:40.  Drop car off.  Walk to Auntie En’s for five hours which was really stressful with the knitting, chatting, getting given coffee made with milk, biscuits, tea and salmon sandwiches.  Pick car up.

Notice on the way to doctors to sort out new prescription for Septrin and pick up outstanding Aciclovir that the chemist was short from last week that the place where the mileage is normally displayed now says ‘Code 3’.  Now what?  Park, sort prescription.  Switch the engine on, still there.

I’d have to drive past home on the way to the garage so sod this, I’m going home.  B should be up by now he can sort it.  Mobile rings as leaving car park – must be B wondering where I am.

Get home.  B comes out before I get out of car.  Point out the message.  Book comes out.  Now 16:00. ‘Don’t worry I’ll ring the garage and see what they say.’ says… me.  Better me looking the fluffy female than B.

‘It’s the coolant level, Insignias can be a bit tempermental.  You can either bring it back or top it up with water and see if that sorts it.’

I’m for topping it up with water.  B looks iffy.  I now need a wee and a drink.  I get these whilst B decides what to do.  It’s ‘his’ car after all.  The bonnet of which he has not yet lifted.  So maybe now’s not the time!

Me:  ‘Do you want me to go back?’

B:  ‘Well if you don’t mind.’

Me:  ‘No, I don’t.’

B:  ‘Give me a hug.’

Me:

It just happened to be in my knitting bag.

Get the knitting and head for the car.

At the garage.  ‘He’s just finishing off, he’ll only be five minutes’.

This much knitting later I got the car back.

Go home – bit of deja vu going on.

Get out of the car and realise I didn’t take the garage key with me (still no come across my own house keys) and B is in the shower.  Wait on the front until he gets out.

Get in.  Get drink.  Get changed.  Get big toe stuck in handle of laundry drawer.

Start cutting dress out – after getting toe free.

Friend calls round.

And now I’m going to bed as…

Friday – We have an appointment at the Royal at 8:55.

In the afternoon I intend to come home, pick up my knitting and settle down to watch Avatar – which Auntie En lent me!

Meanwhole other than these…

I don’t seem to have got anything done!

Don’t tell Bernard!

I can’t find my house keys.  Now we know I tell B everything sooner or later but this I can’t.  I had a spell when we first got married out being a bit lax with keys and basically as husbands can do he’s never forgotten it.  ‘Have you got your keys?’ being a common question in our house.

B suggested I take my keys on holiday with me ‘Just in case’ of what I don’t know.  B also suggested that I take the ‘my’ car key off the key ring again ‘Just in case’ and again of what I don’t know –  maybe in case I bopped him on the noggin whilst he has visiting and made off in the car with my IV stand and in my jim jams.  Turns out it was just as well.

I distinctly remember leaving them in one of my suitcases when I unpacked on holiday.  Then the friend I borrowed the cases off needed them back as she was going away for a few days and I was still on holiday.  So I took them out and… what?  I thought I’d put them in the drawer which I emptied when I packed and I’m pretty sure that when they strip and sanitise the room for the next holiday-maker they would have noticed keys with a large Judge Death metal key ring.

I unpacked in stages on the evening I got home as it was too much in one go and I’ve checked the place I always leave my keys and they are definitely not there.

B doesn’t suspect yet because we have a spare set for the back door and garage so I’ve been using them.  I had been using the front door as the garage door sometimes sticks (since an incident one Christmas Day when I was learning to drive when I drove, slowly, into the garage doors) and I couldn’t always manage to get them shut again with my back, however with good weather and a better back that’s not an issue at the moment.  However if I have to use the front door I’m stuck as we don’t have a spare set.  Doh!

I’ll have to have a systematic late ‘spring’ clean.  B won’t suspect a thing.  I’ll just have to remember to make sure the marching band and dancing girls don’t make too much of a noise during the celebrations when I do find them!

Foghorn Leghair

I was somewhat disappointed when my leg hair refused to budge (even when tugged) during my ‘holiday’ however it has redeemed itself.  I’m not a girly girl by anyone’s stretch of the imagination – a friend once described me as the most ungirly girl she knew, simply because I didn’t know days before a night out what I was going to wear – but I can’t be doing with leg hair.  Some people I know overwinter their’s (for the added warmth maybe) and only remove it once the weather gets warmer.  Even now, when I won’t be applying artificial tan so they can go on display I want them hair free and they are.  I shaved them the night I got home from ‘holiday’ and they’ve had the good grace not to put in a reappearance yet (5 weeks – can you believe that?).

I may not feel the same if the hair on my head forms a work to rule committee with the leg hair but then again I can always wear a hat when it’s cold and I still have eyebrows!

Now here’s a funny thing…

Don’t you just love the dog’s attitude it’s really ‘wearing’ that hat – as opposed to any the dog I know who would be rubbing their head along the floor and pawing at it.  In case anyone is tempted to purchase one – here’s a link to the etsy shop which sells them!

No, the funny peculiar as opposed to funny ha-ha thing is muscle soreness.  I suppose it’s to be expected but from exercising with the elastic band to using the weed whacker – thanks to Sandy we no longer have a strimmer, we now whack weeds

‘Hey B, do you fancy doing some weed whacking?’

Sounds so much more exciting than

‘That could do with strimming.’

B didn’t think it was a good idea on my part to weed whack and got a little bit huffy when I stated politely (really) that if I didn’t do it who was going to.  And then yesterday when he hoovered (you will be pleased to learn I don’t hoover, for two reasons it doesn’t agree with my back and I HATE it) I asked if he would do the two back bedrooms as well.  I was in the smaller of the two and it turns out that he hoovers as far as the cord will stretch from the other room!!!!!!!!

Anyhoo, enough husband whacking, getting back to the point, my muscles seem to get a little bit sorer for a bit longer than I would expect.  This could be due to lazing around, otherwise known as convalescing, and them getting used to this, that any weight lost on ‘holiday’ was lean tissue rather than fat (what a swizz) or lack of a more nutritious diet.   I have included more fruit, mostly tinned, since my appetite has picked up but I probably need to eat more protein now and then I’ll be able to move up to the BIG elastic band!

Worn out Wednesdays which follow Too Much Tuesdays

For the second week on the trot I’m a little pooped on a Wednesday.  Armchair yoga is just so strenuous or maybe it was coming home and deciding it would be a good idea to strim some of the weeds in the ‘garden’.  Namely the ones closest to the house so that I could get into the ‘garden’ without walking through a weedy meadow (okay maybe that’s a bit of an exageration but only a smigden).

I did attach the wheeled support to the strimmer which is provided for the infirm/incapable!  B had nipped to his mum’s so wasn’t available to stop me or rather advise me that it prehaps wasn’t such a good idea.  As a consequence this morning I woke up with a migraine hovering.  It now seems to have backed off, after taking some headache tablets and isn’t the full blown jobbie from last week, so I only over did it a wee bit this time.

This got me to thinking about something I’ve thought about before.  The universe should only allow you to have one thing wrong with you.  I know it’s busy with the limitless expanses of space (which brings up another thought ‘How can space go on forever, but how can it stop?’) but it should set this ground rule.

And the final thought I’ll leave you with before settling down with my knitting, and which is potentially more disturbing than the space thought when confronted with it in public, is brought to you courtesy of us having a hot patch of weather…

‘Just because lycra can stretch doesn’t mean it should!’

Bernard makes me sick!

I umed and awwed over whether to share this but in light of all the other things I’ve shared I thought what the hell.  Those of a delicate nature with regard to bodily functions should look away………….NOW!

I got up this morning at approximately 07:06 (by the cooker when I went downstairs for my tablets).  I then had a shower, cleaned my teeth, got dressed in fresh jim jams (the clothing of choice at the moment, I did get dressed when I went to armchair yoga this afternoon, but it was a close thing).

By this time my darling husband had arrived home from work via the supermarket and was in the kitchen.  I went down to greet him enthusatically.  You know he is so grumpy when he gets in, or maybe that’s my interpretation of him being awake and me being morning intolerant.

So I walk to the cupboard which from the door is about ohhh, two steps and B passes wind, walks past me and says ‘Oh, that’s a stinker!’ somewhat proudly.   I got a whiff.  I coughed.  I thought I’m going to be sick.  I thought don’t be silly it’s a trump!  No, I am going to be sick.

I rushed upstairs laughing (and gagging) at the very thought of throwing up because of this.  Got in the bathroom and blah!

Came back downstairs to find B cleaning something off the car windscreen AGAIN.  I don’t think he has ever considered cleaning anything off the house windows (I keep thinking it’s foggy) and inform him of the consequences of his air pollution and he tells me it wasn’t his fault, I must have made myself sick, without pausing to think about it – talk about plausible deniability!  (I looked that up to make sure I had the right expression-  “plausible deniability” can also apply to any act that leaves little or no evidence of wrongdoing or abuse – well, since it had evaporated I guess it’s appropriate.)

More Blood Results via Vlog

I decided to do a spare of the moment vlog.  I haven’t/couldn’t watch it but B has seen and says it’s okay.  I trust him since he’s normally VERY honest, once telling me I looked like a wrestler in a dress I tried on!

The medication I’m on instead of the inhaler is actually co-trimoxazole (septrin), an anti bacterial.

I was going to mention this on my vlog but couldn’t bring myself to – it’s so much easier to type about it!  I did a list of things to ask questions about before we went to the unit and I asked B did he want to add anything and he did something to the list, but then decided not to ask.  However after I’d finished my queries B pipes up that there is one other thing and because I have the humor level of a 10 year old boy at times (people tripping, including myself, the mother in law passing wind and looking round to see who did it, that kind of thing) I started sniggering and then when he asked I practically drowned out the lovely ward manager, Priscilla, who did her best to ignore my hysterics and provide the relevant information.   B had written S E X on the list but did he say ‘What about sex?  By the way that’s not a proposition!’ no, instead he said ‘Can two people get together…?’

In case you were wondering apparently they can but need wellingtons and macintoshs.  Well, I think that was what Priscilla meant by protection.