Tag Archives: peritoneal dialysis

Sausage Hands

My neutrophils are none existent as an unexpected result of the methotrexate.  I’ll keep this short, what do you mean thank goodness – as it’s really hard to type with these sore sausages that have temporarily taken the place of my fingers.  I still have my own skin but someone about five times bigger is borrowing it.  They’re not as sore as yesterday and some movement is easier but I can’t knit, if I felt compelled and B is having to help me in the shower.

I’m still in infectious diseases with a fridge which is good but would be a whole lot better if I could actually drink a whole bunch of COLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLD stuff.   After discussion of a morphine syringe driver yesterday one was prescribed – well a syringe driver that is but it was for anti-sickness only and I’ve never complained of it.  I can only think one/more of the nurses had said this but I’m not sick it’s just that if I attempt to drink something and my throat doesn’t like it I start to choke but just that bit comes back along my maybe some thick gloopy drool – just like at night.  A doc had prescribed the morphine driver on Monday (when I mostly slept) and then yesterday another one said that I’d not really made use of the meds on offer (may be because I’d slept) and I should give them a go and see how it went.  So I did and by the end of the day I managed a yoghurt, my tablets in mostly soluble form and even a little fizzy drink – very little and not without reaction.  I tried again today but the thing is that despite asking yesterday I had five mouthfuls of good stuff out of a possible seven and today seven out of a possible eleven and although I started off well, with an ice lolly for breakfast I found my nice slimy tinned peaches for supper were too rough – so next to nothing is getting down.  Needless to say I think I may be better off with the syringe driver for a bit.

One of the kidney docs called round this morning took one look at me and offered help with dialysis.  It took place within the hour and then he came back later and said due to the risk of infection I could have a couple of days off anyway.

And I’m so  parched I’m sure I could watch a Titanic documentary and think as they hit the sea ‘the jammy so and sos all that cold cold water and ice!’

The beauty of it

The whole aim of attempting to post on Monday was to basically confirm that I was still ‘here’.  However it didn’t exactly pan out – I mean I am still here but the posting bit wasn’t as easy.  So I when I managed to get it to post yesterday I thought that I would make sure I posted every day even if what I posted had no relevance whatsoever to my current medical status.  I fully intended to start today, mind you I fully intended to be the first of the three of us on the six bed bay  to have a shower today and I ended up being third and possibly missing the docs’ ward round as a consequence.

So I’d fully intended to tell you today about why my visitors yesterday looked like this…

(I was swabbed on Monday and tested positive for para flu yesterday – caught from another patient last week I’ll have you know and not from one of my visitors), who thought that the visiting myeloma consultant was a vicar who was in with us so long he must have been trying to flog me something and possibly a little something on suggested treatment.  I was going to do this before I went to Clatterbridge (a hospital just under 14 miles away) for a planning appointment relating to radiotherapy.  Needless to say I didn’t get it done before I was collected at about 1.20 pm.  I’d just, so just I had just emptied my bag of ‘out’ fluid down the sluice) finished my peritoneal dialysis (PD) fluid exchange and hadn’t even packed for my little trip out.  I went for a wee and threw some knitting, sweets and a puzzle book into a bag and set off wearing a mask – to protect other people from me.

We arrived at ten to two for my appointment at half two.  I was shown to a little office, to keep me away from the other patients and staff and well, everybody, and shut in.  As it turned out I ended up speaking to the oncologist from there that I’d seen on Monday at the Royal as she called in for a quick chat when she saw me as she was passing.  The door wasn’t initially shut.

After that I waited, knit, waited, threw up – in the sick bowl I’d brought, on my knitting, carrier bag, the chair, the floor, my cardy and my right trouser leg, waited, waited and waited with this to look at on the back of the door…

There were other more graphic drawings of the male doings but I thought everyone should know where the prostate is and how to poke it.  I had finally got planned – which involved a warm plastic piece of flat plastic being formed into a mask over my tilted back face, flashing my bare bosoms to the three radiographers and being asked questions I couldn’t really answer as with the warm flannel like plastic over my face I daren’t shake/nod my head and couldn’t speak.

I made it back to ‘the room’ in my mask at five oh four pm just as B was ringing me and was offered a drink and biscuits.  This is what I got…

Now I fully admit it could be my smutty mind but that is exactly how those buscuits were on the paper towel.  Either its my smutty mind or I wasn’t the only one who’d spent long hours looking at the back of the office door.

Because of the para flu I ended up coming back in an ambulance which was order for ‘within the hour’.  I got back to The Royal at eight by which time B had gone back home, got changed and called back in, ready for work and my Auntie Ann had waited over an hour as I think she’d thought I’d forgotten to let her know I was back but was way too polite to say so.

And now I have to go to sleep because I’ve just completed my fourth PD exchange of the day – the schedule of which was thrown well out of whack by the afternoon outing – ‘Did you have a good time out girl?’ the elderly lady opposite asked me when I got back – I can barely keep my eyes open but needed to do exactly that while I did the bed time one.  Just as well because I’d been made some toast and cheese spread, the lady in the next bed had accepted the offer but the elderly lady had said no and then asked where her’s was when the health care assistant came back with it – so she got some too – and during the exchange mine made an encore appearance.  I’d blamed the half a bowl of mushroom-y, in a very loose sense, soup at lunch time but maybe it was the intrathecal injection I had yesterday after all.

So tomorrow I may tell you about where we are up to with suggested treatment or I may just show you my knitting.  Don’t panic I threw away the first lot of knitting that got sick on it and fortunately declined the offer of a pasta carbonara from the freezer and settled for toast so it wasn’t too unpalatable coming back.  And now off to get some beauty sleep because, as my husband informed me today, I need it.  This being the reason why I sleep more than him even at the best of times.

Oh, oh and I nearly forgot, that’s how asleep I am, but we had some good news on Monday.  I can reduce the amount of PD I do.  Either my reducing the number of exchanges in a day or the number of days I do exchanges in the week.  I went for Monday, Wednesday and Friday dialysing and Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday off.  I knew this would need verifying by B and indeed after initially saying ‘Whatever you think’ went on to say ‘Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday would be better to do exchanges’ because of appointments on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

B didn’t waste any time!

After a meeting with one of our consultants, the myeloma nurse, the second ward sister present, refeering I think, me, B, and as circumstances turned out, Auntie Ann and friend Chris T not G, I got home leave until Sunday night.  Let me tell you I was glad to get back for a rest – I have no idea where the weekend went.  I didn’t even have time to get dressed Sunday.  I mean yes, some days I just choose (cba*) not to get dressed, but Sunday I fully intended on putting outside clothes on but it just didn’t pan out and yet I didn’t seem to get that much done.

Anyhoo back to Friday and my return to my usual place of residence.  After him appearing all upset about the current situation I arrived home to find that B had already allowed another bird to move in!  AND if that wasn’t enough Bud was obviously fond of her too.  Okay Bud didn’t actually say so but the fact that he hadn’t tried to eat her speaks volumes.  Here’s the floozy showing off her ass…

I mean I am just basing Bud’s fondness on the fact that he hasn’t invited her to dine with him with her being the main course at least.  I for my part at welcoming her to the family provided access to the greenhouse in case she wanted a dry sheltered spot.

Before

After

B bought some bird seed when he shopped on Saturday and I liberally applied it round the garden included into the green house. Now although I never saw Pigina venture in there herself, the friend that brought me back in to The Royal last night saw her wander in there for some seed. She actually spent Saturday night perched on an upright paving slab near the shed – Pigina that is not Chris G.

Chris thinks Pigina might be at risk of getting eaten by a bird and indeed that’s how she comes to be staying with us in the first place. I however an of the opinion that she flew into the window. I am basing this on the greasy looking pigeon size splatt on the back bedroom window…

It’s about central – you might have to tilt your head at an angle.

Now I have really no idea where the time went at weekend. I had BIG plans and yet didn’t seem to get much done. What I did manage was to finish a Myeloma Buddy I started on Friday.

Gingerbread Buddy

One of the other things I did was a bit of tidying up, now bearing in mind that B tends to let stuff pile up on the dining table while I’m away – heck he attempts to let it build up when I’m at home.

The flowers were kindly given by a neighbour over a week ago – they appear to have kept well!

And look at this item of unsolicited unaddressed post we received…

So where are we with regard to the myeloma well, as a nurse said when she was asking me what the consultant said this afternoon, ‘so really everything is still up in the air’ and basically it is.  I saw an oncologist this morning regarding radiotherapy on my arm, as I thought, but she also mentioned it for treating the myeloma in the spinal fluid.  Chemotherapy injections into the spinal fluid would have to be put on hold whilst the radiotherapy was taking place as the combination would be too toxic.  The doc suggested radiotherapy to either my skull or my skull and spinal cord, I opted for the latter however do not have to make a final decision until later in the week.  There could possibly be one injection before and then they could be recommenced after.  I’ve opted to get a bone marrow biopsy done tomorrow, well I guess that would be today now, Tuesday anyway.

Anyhoo let’s just cut to some good news. Yes we do have some!  I asked about starting overnight peritoneal dialysis today and the PD nurse came for a chat.  Following on from a conversation he’d had earlier with the renal consultant when she came to see me it turned out that they thought the frequency of the PD could be reduced, either by doing it times a day for seven days a week or four times a day but for less days.  I’ve opted for four times a day Monday, Wednesday and Friday with nothing on the others other than draining the overnight fluid off.  I asked B for his opinion when he came in and he, after initially stating that it was up to me, said that Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday would be more practical – and he is of right of course.

I got swabbed today as I’ve been a bit snotty, yesterday and this morning, and may not have thought anything of it but for another couple of patients coughing last week.  I was told it was nothing that should concern me but we’ll see.

The internet is a wonder thing when it works right – I won’t say how many times I tried to post this last night but it wouldn’t play ball.  Hence me sitting here now having my breakfast in my usual half asleep daze thinking ‘Oh yeah I couldn’t keep my eyes open so I left it!’

I really didn’t mean to go on this much and really just wanted to let you know I was still here and actually feeling pretty good.  I did mean to share this last thing however.  I learned something today.  I learned it as I went for a wee just as B arrived back with my singapore chow mein from across the way.  I whizzed (get it whizzed) to the toilet and in my haste to get to the grub was in ‘wee position’ before I took full account of my surroundings.  In fact I was mid wee.  What I learnt was that if you are mid wee and notice something unpalatable on the floor at the side of the toilet then the natural reaction to flinch away from ‘the something’ kicks in before the reaction to ‘stop weeing’!!!!!!!  Fortunately I had plenty of jim jam bottoms.

*  cba – can’t be a&sed

Tightening your tush!

My back pain and I reached an amicable understanding recently. I’d give it copious amounts of paracetamol and Tramadol along with not doing anything to knowingly upset it and it would, for quite large areas of time, generally leave me alone. Of course spending nearly two weeks on holiday in the Royal made it easier for me to uphold my side of the bargain as there’s not really much I can get up to in hospital that would cause it to complain – as long as I take the painkillers that is. I tried to reduce them during my stay in February and ended up aching.

Its surprising how quickly you can get use to being ‘comfortable’ and how quickly you take it for granted and how you only realise this when you do something to contravene the peace treaty and give the back pain cause to complain. In this particular instance I did something that I didn’t even consider would result in a protest – I decided I wanted a tighter tush.

When I wash my hands before doing the peritoneal dialysis (PD) fluid exchange I need to count to 10 or 20 while doing various things. On Saturday I thought I could take advantage of this to do some leg raises or even squats (the leg raises won out). Its not like they result in a big movement – standing on one leg and lifting the other backwards and doing the same thing with the leg bent – but do allegedly result in a shapely behind. I figured three or four times a day and in no time I’d have a behind that I’d be quite happy to have out in front.  Yet this little bit of leg lifting has upset my back pain and I may have made it a tad worse yesterday when I decided that my sewing room needed to look more like a sewing room again than a PD room.

When the initial supplies arrived I stored away from sight as much as was convenient. I realised it wouldn’t be practical to hide absolutely everything and couldn’t decide what to do with the bags of fluid. I tried putting them in one of the plastic ‘drawers’ but it turned out that Arnold Schwarzenegger would have had trouble getting it out, so I thought I’d see how it went with them. By Sunday this is how it was going…

I felt I needed to tidy it up. So following a slight rearrangement of the wardrobe in that room to make space for a box of fluid it looked like this…

Better – well I think so. Now I just need to have a proper sort out of the wardrobe and the rest of the stuff stored in the room probably as I didn’t so much find a space to put one of the boxes in as make a space by moving other stuff around ie, bunging it in the glory-hole and find some sort of attractive receptacle to put my BRIGHT YELLOW waste bag in.

So after this little bit of tidying yesterday and getting tea (I mean cooking spaghetti and warming up some pre-made frozen sauce) I felt like a nap but broke one of my cardinal rules – if you feel like a sleep have one – or you’ll feel worse later. As a result of no kipping I felt quite tired today. I mean I know that I tire easily at the minute but still I didn’t take a little nappy-poo – the next PD exchange was due in half an hour so after that I thought, then B went to work and Bud wouldn’t settle possibly after having B off last week so I entertained him, a friend phoned and it was time to do another exchange before bed.

It was so nice having B at home last week so much so that when he was going to work tonight I suggested he should take his redundancy and stay home with me or rather us. The first week I was in the Royal B’s company announced that the depot would be closing by the end of the year and three smaller transit depots would be opened – at least one being closer to home – and there may be jobs available at an existing warehouse the other side of Manchester. I’d originally told B that in my opinion he should hang in there and see if he got a job in Liverpool or Warrington and if he didn’t like it he could always take his redundancy at that point.

Tea time today I read a text from an Armchair Yoga friend about a couple who are part of the group.  Mrs found out last Wednesday that her cancer was now really serious and she had a matter of months and on Thursday Mr went and had a massive heart attack and died. Seriously – WTF!

So where I’d gone from telling B to stay at work, and not just for the money but also because I think its probably good for him to mix with people where the topic of conversation doesn’t at some point touch on myeloma or dialysis, this news made me want to be totally selfish and just spend more relaxed time together.  He responded that I should be careful what I suggested as he might just do that.

Mind you that might pan out quite well since despite not having actually worked in over 12 months I am still technically employed however I received a letter last week saying that the typists were being absorbed into other areas of the business.  As I wasn’t in on the telephone conference and haven’t received anything more personal than this letter from HR I don’t know where exactly this puts me. Although this might explain why I received a form from work a few weeks ago requesting my permission for them to obtain a medical report even though it said they usually asked for one after five months.

Getting immoral with rumps

I think I may have done something, if not illegal, then certainly immoral with some rump steak – I made steak and onions.  Now this may be perfectly acceptable with some high folotting celebrity chef but I was brought up to make steak and onions, hotpot and such like with stewing steak and as it seems to be labelled now braising steak.

B had asked constantly today what I wanted for my tea and I had absolutely no idea.  Well okay, it was probably about twice but seemed a lot more.  At lunch he started to suggest things and at the point where he said soup I had to say ‘I think you should stop mentioning food or I’m gonna throw up’.  Later in the afternoon he nipped out for some milk and wanted to know again – but although I don’t feel queasy all the time I don ‘t feel particularly like eating.  B asked should he get some bread but the thought of bread turned my stomach at the time – indeed yesterday I made up some barm cakes for B but had some Ryvitas myself – just as well really since it turned out the barm cakes I’d used had a use by date of the 28th!

So tea time-ish today I went into the kitchen and looked at the rump steak in the fridge and thought ‘I couldn’t eat that fried but I could eat it in steak and onions’ so that’s what I did with it – I have to admit without chopping it into smaller pieces – I just wopped it in a pan to brown and then covered it with stock – chicken as we were out of beef.  B peeled the potatoes and we had it with mash and what I managed to eat stayed down unlike Sunday’s cottage pie.

It was, in B’s opinion, excellent.  He wasn’t being immodest as he hadn’t made it.  I decided to tackle the mince meat while B was out walking with Bud.  I donned a pair of disposable gloves and tackled the carrots and onion – better safe than sorry on the bacteria front.  B again peeled the potatoes for the topping and I remembered to do some veg to accompany it, unlike tonight’s meal.  I was enjoying it when suddenly I felt the urge to hurl and B passed me the poop bag lined sick bowl that’s stowed at the side of the settee just in time.  I did manage to finish off what was on my plate once I’d been sick.

Buddy has a reaction to seeing a sick bowl – he gets all anxious.  In this instance B passed me the bowl and before I’d even ejected the cottage pie Bud was up off his mat and over near the curtains looking at me funny.  I think it’s because his reaction is to come check I’m okay but it results in B telling him to get on his mat and when he doesn’t do it immediately B gets louder while I try and slope off to the stairs so I’m not throwing up in front of B while he’s trying to finish his food.   So it’s got to the point where I just have to move a sick bowl and Bud reacts.

Other than being a bit off my food I’ve still felt reasonably alright.  I have felt particularly tired today and didn’t go to armchair yoga this afternoon as I just didn’t have the energy/enthusiasm.  It had taken me the best part of an hour to go upstairs to set up the printer to work wirelessly – and in fact must have been fatigued as I didn’t even have the energy to threaten the netbook/printer when it didn’t work straight away.

I’ve also been a bit bunged up.  I thought that once I was home I’d start being regular again – isn’t this a lovely subject?  It was so hard to go in the Royal especially on the toilet I ended up using from my cupboard.  More people walked past the door than go through Heathrow in the length of a day.  Plus at Heathrow you don’t get people stood outside with drip machines beeping while you’re trying to ‘concentrate’.  I think I’ve taken enough laxatives to clear out a rhino but obviously need to increase them to take care of an elephant.  I wouldn’t usually be too concerned but in light of the need to go really regularly with the peritoneal dialysis I thought I better act sooner rather than later, particularly as the fluid I drained first thing this morning was a bit low which can be caused by constipation.

Meanwhile, although I really haven’t done anything today, I have previously finished off some things I did during my recent stay at the Royal.

I’ve added buttons to the aran jacket…

Sewn the ends in on the baby blanket made in the same aran (worsted) weight yarn…

Again this is from Comfort Knitting and Crochet Afghans.

Sorted out the ends on a granny square afghan for the crèche/hospital in South Africa at one of our GP’s receptionist’s husbands is involved with…

and cracked on with the other one I started…

I am really liking this and think the cream round the two centre squares and then again round the resulting rectangles ties it all together nicely.  I think I need to add nine more rectangles to get it to an acceptable size – which should just about clear all the tiny balls of double knitting yarn that I have left or have been given.  This is just as well as I need more storage in my sewing room for all my new peritoneal dialysis stuff.  I mean I do have room but I wanted to tidy hide as much of it away as possible so that the back room doesn’t make it look like there’s someone sick in the house!

 

Just call me ‘Arry

As in ‘Arry Potter since I’m residing in a cupboard albeit not a cupboard under the stairs (I cannot take the credit for that comment it was one of the sisters that made the comparison).  Maybe Harry Plopper would be more appropriate – a lá Homer Simpson’s pig in The Simpsons Movie.

I do have two doors but no windows.

And there’s my buzzer in there too – because I just knew you’d want to see it and well, I er, pointed my phone the wrong way to take the pic!

So what exactly have I been up to since I got admitted – let’s see…

I got to go out last Tuesday afternoon into Liverpool nearly shopping – only nearly because I got to the till in Primark with a pair of trousers, a cardy and about 350 pairs of knickers to find I was totally unable to remember the pin number for my credit card and even though Primark is a cheap shop the £2.00 and coppers I had in my pocket wouldn’t cover the cost of the items.

With B taking me out for tea as well I was shattered on Wednesday, my shoulder pain was also quite severe which didn’t help and when Auntie Ann suggested going home earlier than usual so I could get some sleep I didn’t exactly protest.  The day nurse had asked if I wanted additional painkillers on top of the paracetamol and Tramadol and I’d said that just at night would be good – the pain had stopped me nodding off on Tuesday night and then woke me up a few times.  Later in the afternoon I asked for some more but the junior doc said that with my kidney issues I could only have it the once.  It certainly helped that night and if the pain had persisted I would have asked for something else on Thursday but it eased considerably and has now gone completely.  An x-ray showed no myeloma damage but a ‘touch of arthritis’.

I got to go out for a wander on Tuesday as the DT-PACE treatment didn’t actually start until Thursday due to my peritoneal dialysis (PD).  It raised a number of questions – not least would I be able to do it at all through the treatment.  As it turned out I can and because I now have some kidney function the renal doc was confident that for the length of the treatment I could manage with 12 hours of PD per 48 hours.  It has resulted in me having to get up at two, three and five in the morning to pop the PD fluid back in.  It was supposed to be midnight but with the initial lot of drugs being a bit late arriving and the bags running slightly longer than 24 hours it got later.

The renal doc’s only concern was about doing the PD at midnight (and the blood registrar did ask if I’d need help from with it) and was a bit amazed at me doing at 3 am ish (ish because I slept through my alarm and the nurse had to wake me up) – but basically I much prefer this to going down to another ward for hemodialysis – plus it results in statements such as ‘I don’t think that was my wee this morning’.

I have to wee in a cowboy hat and note what I drink – technically referred to as a ‘fluid balance’ and this morning one of the health care assistants was concerned about the look of one of ‘my’ wees.  My hat’s are numbered, in biro, 9 – my room number.  This errant sample had what looked like a 9 on it and there is no other combination of beds within the whole ward that would result in a 9 other than my room.  Fortunately she had the wherewithal to check with me and we waited for my next one which was fine otherwise I could have had all sorts of things poked and prodded unnecessarily since it then looked like someone had incorrectly marked their deposit.   When you’ve done it at a time with a five in the hour slot and am somewhere after it I for one find it difficult to say I definitely had a wee never mind recall exactly what it looked like.

The big problem with the PD was that the fluid sitting working busily in the peritoneal cavity clearing out the toxins would have attracted quantities of the chemotherapy drugs which would have had a two-fold effect.  Firstly reducing the amount that circulated in my system going about it’s proper business and secondly potentially causing problems in that area – too much heavy partying going on and not enough working.

So the schedule before delays affected exact timings should have been –

Thursday 12 noon – drain PD fluid, start 24 hours chemotherapy

Friday 12 noon – chemotherapy disconnected

Friday 12 midnight – start night time PD

Saturday morning – change PD fluid

Saturday 12 noon – drain PD fluid, start 24 hours chemotherapy and so on.

The x-ray of the bump on my head showed no myeloma lesion so I got to have a biopsy.  I have to say I wouldn’t have been at the front of the queue to have a needle stuck in the back of my head but it was actually okay.  As there wasn’t enough material on the first go I got to do it twice.  It was just like being stuck with a needle for a blood sample but the ‘stuck’ sensation carries on and wiggles about a bit.  The lady who did it, who was a lace knitter and loves Ravelry, had a look in the microscope right outside the ward and said that nothing looked untoward but they would analysis it further.  I said I’d actually been thinking I may have always had a lumpy head but not noticed but it has gone down a lot today – Auntie Ann is leaning towards me having bumped it.

As it turns out that we have a match for a donor stem cell transplant I get to have an MRI of my head and shoulder to ensure there are no myeloma related surprises during the transplant.  The registrar mentioned this last week, not the match but the transplant – I didn’t ask about a match because I was concentrating too much on the thought of someone sticking a needle in my head but B and I saw one of the transplant docs on Monday and there are two ‘matches’ with exactly the same mis-match at CW something or other on the light bit of the relevant antibody – if I remember correctly.  It’s not a major one and another doc said that a minor mis-match isn’t necessarily a bad thing as it can help participate in the whole graft vs host and subsequent graft vs myeloma effect.  Something I did learn during the course of the conversation with the transplant doc is that it can be quite distracting to have a few grains of rice sitting on top of the end of your PD cannula which is itself tucked into your bra!  I was just tucking into the sweet and sour chicken and rice that B had brought me when he arrived and said I’d rather speak to him then than wait however I didn’t feel that rummaging down my bra to extract the offending food would have been appropriate.  The transplant could be in five to six weeks.

So back to my cupboard.  I was initially in a six bed room.  One of my fellow holidaymakers got swabbed positive for flu – a flu not already in the whole hospital so brought in by her or her visitors.  She got shipped off to a side room and the bed was blocked.  The five of us remaining got flue inhalers to take.  Another vacationer went home on Saturday and that bed was blocked too and the same on Sunday.  A frequent tripper here (who’s been partaking of the facilities every time I’ve been in since November) went home for a few hours on Saturday and had to come back to get swabbed as she’d had a bit of a cough.  The results on Monday showed a positive for another type of flu so she got a trip to an isolation room on the infectious diseases ward. Vacationer four had already left to go home on Monday so that left me on my own in a six bed room and because I was potentially contaminated that meant all the other beds were blocked so I got moved to the only cupboard, I mean room available.  It’s okay actually although I didn’t sleep too well the first night – I think it was too quiet!

Anyway it could be worse I could be on my hols in Torquay, like a friend, and be in isolation in my hotel room.  Chris phoned me earlier to ask if I was still in segregated and then informed me that they were too.  Her husband hadn’t felt too good this morning with an upset tummy and she’d mentioned this to the waiter at breakfast.  As she was getting ready to go out and leave hubby to mop his own fevered brow the hotel manager turned up, wearing a mask, and asked if she’d not go out or mingle with other guests in the hotel.  They’d had a few reports of upsets – they had checked the kitchens and any similarity in the food consumed and had found nothing that linked the cases in that respect but were being careful so she’s spent the day in the hotel room with hot and cold running room service.

The manager before he left said that room service would of course be complementary and she (hubby wasn’t up to getting out of bed let alone eating) could order anything she wanted but it would be really handy if she could order something thin they could just push under the door like pizza!

 

Hexagoning and Needles

While I have a bit of time on my hands I decided it was about time I shared my finished hexagonal baby blanket.  I have been unable to knit today!  {Sharp intake of breath} Don’t panic – I feel fine but my knitting is feeling decidely soggy following an unfortunate encounter with some tea this morning so it’s still drying off from its little cleansing shower.  Yesterday I have to admit no knitting got done as I was really tired and in quite a bit of pain from my right shoulder which knitting aggravated – I’m waiting on the results of yesterday’s x-ray on it.

Anyhoo back to some knitting I finished a few weeks ago.  This is Swirl and yet again is from Comfort Knitting and Crochet Afghans.

In total it measures about 74 cm (29″) across and is in double knitting yarn on size 4 mm straight needles.

When I showed pics previously Fiona enquired as to how it was constructed here we go – please excuse a the quality of a couple of the photos – I took them on my phone and can confirm that its correctly called a phone with a camera and not a camera phone.

Now it should have been knit on four double pointed needles but as I’ve said I avoid these if at all possible so adapted the pattern to suit two.

I started with one hexagon and joined the seam on that to close it up.  Then I cast on 100 stitches and picked up another 20 along one side to join the second one on.

This carried on adding 20 stitches for additional side that the new hexagon needed to join on to ie, this one had four hexagons so had 80 stitches from hexagon sides and 40 new ones…

Each hexagon had a seam that needed joining because of being knit on just two needles.

And just once there was a seam to be sewn between hexagons when I didn’t pick up enough stitches…

I wasn’t particularly orderly about adding hexagons possibly because I didn’t have any green to start with.

but after filling in the irratic gaps it looked like this…

Yes its not quite flat, and not quite as noticeable in ‘real life’ but I don’t think knitting it on four needles would have made that much of a difference.

This again isn’t a pattern I would have chosen to knit or colours I would have necessarily used (the colours are similar to the ones in the book) but I am quite pleased with it and do think it would look great in really bright colours.

Other creative spaces can be found here.

I started the DT-PACE IV chemotherapy today – my switch to peritoneal dialysis (PD) caused a bit of delay will things were thunk about.  I said to the blook pharmacist this morning that I believed I was causing them a problem, he agreed and said I was really testing them.  The renal doctor called to see me again for the fourth time, however its the first time I was actually ‘in’.  Tuesday with not having anything scheduled I’d been allowed out and after a trip into Primark would have come back with clothing if I’d been able to remember my credit card pin.  The third time the doc called yesterday morning I was having a shower.  The only concern he had about the schedule was that it resulted in me restarting the PD at midnight when he thought surely nine would have been better.  As it is I only got hooked up at quarter to one so by the time the bags have run through its probably going to be three o’clock Saturday morning that I need to start up again.  As you may have gathered I am being allowed to do the PD during the treatment, rather than having to go down for the haemodialysis (HD).  He must have thought that I looked way too enthusiastic having to get up at 12 even to pop a bag of fluid in but bascially I’m just estatic that I don’t have to go back to HD – and can only think he doesn’t know what sort irrate hours and late nights this can entail for inpatients – like the time I went down at ten past midnight so got back to my bed at 4.20 am!

After getting back from my non-shopping spree on Tuesday B took me out for tea – fish and chips which I had to stop eating part way through as I felt sick and got chastised for not asking for an anti-sickness tablet – I forgot!  It didn’t help that he knew I’d been sick at lunch time at the tiniest taste of Pot Noodle.

Oh, and tomorrow I get to have a biopsy needle stuck in the bump on the back of my head as the x-ray report says my skull is fine – which is good since when I was diagnosed the x-ray showed a lorra, lorra lytic lesions.  I’m think I may have to come up with a convicing ‘Silly me I forgot but I do know remember bumping it’ – depending on the size of the needle!