Monday 28th January 2019
“The spectacles of experience; through them you will see clearly a second 
time” — Henrik Ibsen

The 6am alarm marked Day 1 of Cycle 2. Bag packed last night, it was just a case of getting ready, getting the kids ready and scoffing a few weetabix. Jayne dropped me at the hospital about 8am, an hour early.

Having done this once already, and having not had a lot of trouble with the 3 day inpatient stay, I rocked up feeling pretty positive and confident for the next 3 days. Very much “let’s get this done and out of the way.” I knew what to expect and I was prepared, the worst part is the boredom. I wandered to the admissions unit and they saw me straight away despite being early, the same chap from Cycle 1 Day 1 putting my cannula in and taking blood.

By his own admission, the cannula had a chance of not working. I never knew but when they push the needle in your vein, if it hits a valve the cannula pops back out. This happened, strange phenomenon, it was about half way in but working ok and pushed out enough blood for the tests. Would it work later on ? Tune in to find out.

I saw the Dr’s. As I’d got in early, blood results were back early too and my bloods were still ok. My neutrophils (read immune system) had dropped from 30 to 15 but to be expected, and they were looking for a figure above 2. A week last Friday they were 0.1. So all good to go with the chemo, and then it was a wait for a bed. The call came about 10.30am ish, last time it was closer to 1.30pm. Just in time to order lunch 🙂

Back up to ward 11, and I am coincidentally in the bed opposite to the one I was in three weeks ago, where John was. The room is far less lively this time. Despite trying, I still haven’t managed eye contact with 2 of the guys in here, and the other seems quite ill and constantly surrounded by lots and lots of different family members, a constant stream. In related news, my new noise cancelling headphones have had a lot of use already and do a superb job. Awesome purchase. I’ve spent the whole day so far on the internet / playing games & listening to music / my audiobook.

The chemo was a little late to the party again and arrived about 2.30pm, although compared to 5.30pm last time I am ahead of that schedule. I fell asleep listening to my audiobook while waiting, so I’ll have to trace back to the point I nodded off. After the steroids and anti sickness tablets, today is:

• 1 Litre of fluid with Etoposide over an hour, chemo
• 1 Litre of fluid with Cisplatin (Platinum) over 2 hours, chemo
• 1 Litre of fluid with Cisplatin (Platinum) over 2 hours, chemo
• 1 Litre of fluid with Magnesium over 5 1/2 hours. Replenishment of salts

Taking into account time taken to swap bags over, that’s just over 11 straight hours hooked up to Bob (the IV pump) and 4 litres of fluid, not including what I drink, and drinking lots is encouraged to help the kidneys. Back to hourly trips to pee in a cardboard bottle, taking Bob along each time. Fluids in are measured, Fluids out are measured, to ensure you are not retaining fluid, in which case treatment is given. Either way I’m a slave to Bob until the wee hours (pardon the pun) until about 1.30am.

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Just going back to the 50/50 cannula in my arm. It didn’t work 😦 So the nurse took it out and went to put a new one in. Attempt 1, no blood 😦 Attempt 2, barely any blood 😦 She was super apologetic, but to be fair I couldn’t even see a vein so they have a tough job to start with, it can’t be helped. Apparently they can only try twice then have to get someone else to do it. Along came another nurse, who got it in on his first attempt, the 4th today. Ouch. Pin cushion. Quite possibly the worst albeit brief part of any visit for chemo, is when they remove the sticky plastic surround that holds the cannula in, ripping your arm hair as it goes. I got a bonus one today 😦

That’s it really for today. I’m about 4 hours in as I write this, no ill effects yet. Just a tiny bit of wooziness like last time, a weak case of the “room spinning” feeling of being overly intoxicated, although with all your faculties intact. I’ll watch stuff on my laptop to pass the time until lights out.

My appetite is still insatiable. I had a couple of weetabix for breakfast which admittedly wasn’t enough. Just before I got called for my bed, I had a meal deal from the WH Smith. An hour later, Irish stew & veg then crumble and custard. My stomach was rumbling an hour before tea, which was soup & bread, then pasta bolognese with cubed potatoes, and a cake. I am still very hungry. I’ll be asking for a sandwich or such like soon so I’m not hungry through the night. I can’t go walkies off the ward while I’m hooked up to a chemo bag (signposted by the mandatory yellow bag over the drip) in case it gets spilt. It’s dangerous stuff. Otherwise I’d go get something to snack on, and a latte. Vimto / water is getting old. I’ll wander in the morning before I get hooked up for that morning coffee.

Lastly, I bit the bullet and shaved the remains of my mohawk last night. Where the hair is long, it comes out easily because you touch it, it touches things like hats, pillows, sofa’s etc, loosens in the shower. It was extremely fragile. Where its been shaved, it doesn’t come out so easily because nothing catches it. I was worried if it kept falling out, I’d have a truly bald “runway” atop my head where the mohawk was, in-between 2 patches of stubble. Arguably more ridiculous than the mohawk itself. That’s why I shaved it. Now I feel like asking for “One Biiilllliioooon Dooooolllllarrrsss…”

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