39.2

Having myeloma means you get quite a few trips out in the space of a year – even working on the basis that all is well.  When I was calculating that I needed to go part time, it was 13 Zometa appointments and possibly 6 Blood Clinic appointments.  I also need 12ish re-vaccination appointments, but these are with the Practice Nurse at our GP’s so literally 20 minutes from leaving home to being back (and let’s not forgot I sometimes come back from there with wool.)

And then we have the spur of the moment trips out.  Fortunately I have only had two (addendum – it’s three – the other was projectile vomiting after my 40th birthday party – no, I had not been drinking).  One was when I had shingles* and one was last night.  As Bud said yesterday I ‘wilted’ about 19:00.  I’d felt good, been out with B and Bud for a walk, although I had felt a bit tired I’d figured it was just the after effects of whatever I had last weekend. Although, and this should have been a clue, I was knitting a pair of mittens without a pattern and I was having real trouble with the second one for no reason, so my concentration was a bit off.  So much so that I asked B if he wanted to play a game on the laptop instead.

I moved out of our little office for something and I got cold, very cold, very quickly.  Shaky cold.  I think B thought I was putting it on a bit as he was plenty warm enough. So I put my cardigown on over my trackie bottoms and T-shirt and snuggled up closest to the radiator.   This is prime position because this is closer to the mouse to control the game.  As it turned out B had no worries, I warmed up and them put my head down on the desk and fell asleep.  20:30 when I took a brief break from drooling on the desk B suggested I ring for the Indian takeaway.  I did and then went to bed – now this is never good.  I rarely go to bed if not feeling well.  I ‘take to the settee’.  I think this is because I was brought up being told ‘you die in bed’.  Hey I know you can die anywhere, Grandad died in the garage reaching up for something off a high shelf and having a heart attack – which is also why you should never overstretch yourself or you’ll drop dead of heart failure.  And you know sometimes I wonder how superstitions got started. Anyway, the ‘die in bed’ mentality has served me reasonably well and certainly got me out of bed everyday during my SCT holiday.

So B came in and told me the Indian food had arrived, and then told me again, and again, and again and finally I got up, slapped it on plates, went through to the lounge and stared at it a while, then nodded off over it briefly, then ate a piece of chicken, then a piece of poppadom, then a couple more pieces of chicken and then B and Bud scavenged the rest.

I then assisted Bud with any technical issues on his first post, otherwise it was all his own work, and B felt that I must be feeling better.  I was however by then really hot (but not in a good way) and figured it might be a good idea to take my temperature.

39.2 – ohh

39.1 – wasn’t a boo boo then

39.1 – ah poop

Took two paracetamol, slapped a wheat bag I keep in the freezer round my neck and drunk some cold water.

This is the highest I’ve knowingly had outside of my SCT holiday and I have to say it perked me up immediately.  You know that sudden cold ‘ohh, that’s a tad high may be I should do something.’

So I phoned our GP for the after hours service which turned out to be in the town centre and we got a trip out at 23:50 in -2 degrees celsisus.  I had a long sleeved T-shirt, a thin cardy and a pair of linen pants on and wasn’t cold.

We saw a very efficient Russian (I’m guessing – she said Dah at one point) lady who did smile once – she asked if I could provide a water sample and B asked if he should leave the room!  I had to say ‘It is late.’ – she smiled as she showed me where the toilet was.  B doesn’t cope well with ‘sudden’ situations at one point before we left home he’d briefly had his head in hands – so we are not talking clear rational thinking in a crisis – he’s very practical otherwise but not under sudden pressure.

While I made wee wee B rallied and attempted to engage the doc in small talk, I have said before he will talk to anyone/everyone – apparently they stay open until 07:00.  That is all.

So my vital statistics were

Temp – 38.6

Chest – fine

Throat – fine

Wee wee – fine (nice colour – I may be a bit obsessed with this because I do tend to check quite often to see it’s light straw and this week it had been a bit well, not light straw – by the way I don’t have a wall chart or anything – Note to self google wee colour wall charts)

Pain in various areas – abdomen, bones, joints – fine or not vastly different than normal – bit stiffer round hips but possibly due to not doing as much this week.

I came away with antibiotics and instructions that if my temp doesn’t stay down for the next 12 to 24 hours we have to take a trip to A&E.  This morning 37.8.

If the temp had been in isolation, Dr Russia wouldn’t have given the antibiotics and I would probably have settled for advice over the phone rather saying I’d prefer to call in, however as I’d been off last weekend she felt it better to take that route.

And the best bit – I got popcorn on the way home because I’d been a good girl!

 

* If you ever get shingles on your head and look like you’ve done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson remember to tell friends/family who visit you in isolation that you do.  It’s no good saying that it started as a small spot, which it did, only for them to get there and find out why your husband made you wear sunglasses and a winter hat, in September, when you went to the hospital.