Merry Christmas

Holy shamoly. The new drug is a complete nightmare. I felt fine on the day it was administered and the following day but it soon started going all wrong. I started having muscle and joint pain on Wednesday. This got progressively worse to the point where I could hardly move. I had to start my granocyte reconstitution injections - didn't quite enjoy having to inject myself - and I reacted to that, too. By Friday evening I had a high temperature. I phoned the out-of-hours medical oncologoy department and the on-call oncologist made me go to Guy's Hospital as infections can be life-threatening when you are getting chemo. Thankfully our friend Sarah was able to drive me there or I don't know how I would've coped. I was told I'd have to wait ten minutes before someone would see me. Some two hours later a haemotologist came to see me. By this time my temperature was down and I wanted to go home but a blood specialist could of course not let me go. She tried to get some blood but my veins keep on collapsing and it was only on her third attempt that she managed to draw sufficient blood - I feel like a voodoo doll. Then I was left there waiting for the results - there being a ward full of cancer patients with infections, all in various degrees of pain and/or discomfort. A nurse came round at about midnight to fill in one of these stupid forms the NHS is so keen on, and that took a while. Then at 3 am I had to have another blood test - the other test had revealed that my blood count was fine, this was just to verify if there'd been a change. Because I still had a bit of a temperature I was put on antibiotics. The full lights came on at 6 am but since I couldn't sleep because of all of the noise it didn't bother me too much. Breakfast was served at 9 am. Is no one in the NHS aware of the benefits of good nutrition? I asked for some soya milk - 'I could get some ordered from the kitchens' - then thought herbal tea would be simpler to get - 'That's far too posh'. So I had toast with jam. The oncologists started doing their rounds and I was seen at about 11 am, when I was told I could go home. Excellent, I thought. That was before stupid bureaucracy kicked in. Although the required antibiotics could be found in my bedside cabinet staff are not allowed to give you these to take home. A new prescription has to be written and collected. They said they would take care of it for me. So I sat and waited... and got my medication at 3.30 pm. Four and a half hours sitting in considerable pain and in a ward full of people with infections. Whoever thought of that system needs shooting. Ok, rant over.

I was in a lot of pain up until yesterday and was basically stuck in bed. I've also been reacting - I think - to the daily injections, which have thankfully ended today. I've had a temperature of almost 39C degrees but I've flatly refused to phone the oncology department again. Up until yesterday, when I came up in a rash and found a wee, painful lump on my arm. I tried phoning the out-of-hours service again only to be told: 'This department is now closed, please phone later. Goodbye'. Thankfully my surgery was open late so I phoned my GP, who believes I have thrombosis - I really don't think my veins are having a particularly good time of it.

So here I am today. I'm starting to feel better. The pain's almost gone and I've not had a fever yet, but that tends to happen during the night. Without the injections I'll be able to see if the fever could be caused by something else - fingers crossed not. I have to say I have really, really struggled this time to the point where I haven't even bothered trying to watch Liverpool - there's an indication for you. I've got to go and see my oncologist next Wednesday and for once I will be laying it on thick.

Needless to say the Christmas cards haven't happened - apologies, and thank you, to all of you who sent me one. I will do better next year.

MERRY CHRISTMAS to every single one of you - hope you have a grand one.