Here I am, just four months after the referral to St James’s, admitted for a stem cell transplant.
In preparation we isolated (my wife and I) for two weeks, and for the last six months we have been very careful about avoiding infection. I’ve managed to keep up some regular walking despite the anaemia. The only thing I noted as we walked into the hospital was that dragging a full case is hard work and I had to stop a couple of times for a rest, something that a year ago would not have bothered me.
Two days ago I had a PICC line inserted. That way they can administer intravenous drugs and take blood samples without sticking needles in me. It’s very like a cannula but with a long cathetar that goes a couple of feet into a main artery feeding the heart. As I have been having needles stuck in me two or three times a week for the last six months, it is a relief to not have more needles.
We arrived at 6.30 in the evening to be met by two nurses who took various measurements (weight, blood pressure, etc.) and checked for sores and asked a few questions about my health. My wife left about 8.00 and I settled into my room, which is isolated and has filtered air. I got clear instructions on not using the tap water for cleaning my teeth and given a bottle of sterile water. Everyone who comes in has a mask. Oh, and they are all lovely.
This room will be my home, treatment centre, gym, meditation hall, everything for the next few weeks. The countdown begins with day 0 being the day of the transplant itself. So here is the countdown:
Day -6
I was woken at 6.30 to have my observations taken – blood pressure, oxygen saturation and temperature. I had slept fairly well, considering it is a strange room and quite a bit noisier than at home.
I was checked in by a doctor, who asked various health questions. I got some instructions on how to shower – the PICC line needs to be kept dry and I need to use an antisceptic body wash. Everything is geared to preventing even the smallest risk of infection.
I had a trip to the X-Ray department to check my PICC line was ok. Someone came to do an ECG. I’ve had a generous breakfast, and was given biscuits with a mid morning coffee. I’ve been put on a high energy diet. so will get a mid afternoon and evening treat – cake therapy, I can handle that.
All this, and it is not even 11.00 am yet.
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I thought I would meditate, only to be interrupted to have my observations done, then I returned to it. Then someone came to carry out an electrocardiogram. Then I dozed off, only to wake up just as lunch was brought in.
The medications are arriving regularly now for nausea, anti-virals, and anti-biotics, all to prevent some of the negative reactions to the chemotherapy and the eventual fall in blood production. Mid afternoon cake arrived at 2.30. My wife then arrived with a mask and sat a distance away from me.
All tests done, preventative medications started, the first dose of chemotherapy arrived. It was administered intravenously via the PICC line. As I am used to infusions it seemed very quick and uneventful, taking just over an hour including set up and take down.
Tea arrived at 5.00 (there’s a theme developing here). The food is good, but a bit beige, and plenty of carbs.
My wife left soon after 6.00. It is so strange not to be able to give her a hug, and for her to sit a distance away with a mask on. I then spoke to my daughter and grandson who are on holiday, obviously having a whale of a time.
Then some yin yoga. I’ve managed to adapt to doing it on the bed. Exercise is going to be one of my biggest challenges. I’ve done a few short walks around the bed and some qi gong / moving yoga. The yin practice has become a staple as it helps keep my joints loose without too much strain, and now it is great as you don’t need much space.
Not much left for the rest of the day. I will have an evening drink (with more cake), and maybe find something to watch. There will be another little pot of medications no doubt, and another taking of my observations. Then sleep.
It has been a busy day, not as testing as I might have thought, and all helped by the cheerful staff, the messages of support, my lovely wife and family.
Day -5
To be continued …