Again a slightly longer break between posts than I would have liked but the reason is that I've been quite unwell and motivation seems to be a problem.
Day 6 was particularly hard, I was curled up in bed nearly all day with stomach cramps, diarrhea and nausea. The following days have been only slightly better, but I have managed to get out of bed and pretend to live a normal life. I hate spending extra time in bed, they are wasted days no matter how comfy the bed may be. Last night I even vomited, just the second time ever from chemo.
My fatigue levels, cough and dyspnea have slowly worsened as my dose of prednisone has been reduced. Late last week I spent four hours re-reading my blog from day one and a pattern emerged.
Particularly in 2009 when BOOP first took hold but was un-treated and undiagnosed by the specialists. Through out that year I complained of a persistent cough, low grade fevers, a loss of appetite, chills and sweats.
I had several CT scans that year that indicated that I had no active lymphoma, so you'd have to assume these symptoms were related to a lung condition. I made that suggestion to my doctors in June of that year but it was ignored.
I once again have these symptoms coincidentally appear now that my steroid dose has been reduced, and once again the specialists aren't reading their notes and are suggesting it's linked to lymphoma.
In 2009 I self treated with prednisone and got a complete response in a matter of days. However I was not allowed to continue the treatment and my doctors suggested that if I had lymphoma then steroids would also give a similar response. I couldn't win. A "wait and see" approach was taken and as a result I developed lung fibrosis from the untreated pneumonitis.(BOOP finally being diagnosed in late 2009 and steroids being prescribed). This lung damage now precludes me from having an allogeneic stem cell transplant. Effectively burning the last curative HL treatment option available at the time.
Last year I was told that I would be on prednisone for the rest of my life because there were no other means of treating the lung inflammation behind the now diagnosed BOOP/COP.
I had done a lot of research and came up with the option of using the antibiotic Erythromycin which has an anti-inflammatory side effect. An obscure medical paper from Japan outlined the case of a patient treated with 600mg a day that resulted in a complete response.
My doctors agreed I could try it as it couldn't do any harm. However just one week after starting I was struck down with the potentially fatal Nocardia infection and my medication was stopped after being hospitalised and put on high dose IV antibiotics. We never restarted the experiment. In fact despite having two bouts of pneumonia in a year I have not seen a single respiratory specialist since being discharged nearly twelve months ago, even though I almost begged the head of the respiratory dept at Wellington hospital to be given someone to monitor my lung disease.
So in spite of the fact that everyone thinks all my lung problems are related to my lymphoma (despite all symptoms disappearing when treated with steroids last time) I have now taken control of my own treatment. As of last Saturday I have started myself on 600mg of Erythromycin daily, taken as 3x 200mg doses. I've informed my GP so he has it on record for safety's sake and can record the results.
So far my energy levels are improving, my cough less productive and fevers are not spiking so high.
But it is early days yet and I need to get over these Adcetris side effects before a clearer picture emerges as a lot of the side effects are the same and just cloud the results.
I showed my GP the non-healing lesion on my elbow again four weeks post surgery. He said "bugger". We read the biopsy and it said something about necrotising skin cells (not fasciitis). It really wasn't much help at all, so he took a swab to see exactly what it was that was growing in the wound that was stopping skin growth.
That's enough for one post, lots more to add but those with short attention spans may well be asleep by now! ;)
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Cycle Four, Days two & three
Day two was a horrible day. I don't recall becoming so ill so soon in a cycle before. I woke to a body that ached all over and a dry choking cough. Everything hurt, my head my stomach, my muscles and joints.. everything.
I'd even had to take anti nausea medication during the night, something I've rarely ever had to do no matter what chemo I was having.
I just wanted to curl up in bed and stay there all day but I couldn't. I'd booked a couple of wheel alignment jobs for the morning and I just didn't feel it would be fair on the customers if I cancelled them. The two customers had waited over a month for me to work on their cars. I dosed up on paracetamol and ibuprofen and went out to face the day. Luckily both jobs went very well and I was able to return home and curl up on the couch by 1pm.
Today (day three) I'm a lot better, still sick but about what I would expect considering I'm on chemo.
One good thing is that the lump on my jaw appears to be slowly resolving. I thought it was last week but it's hard to tell for sure when it happens so slowly. However today It is definitely smaller, it's that noticeable. The lesion on my left elbow however is exactly the same as it was before my GP cut it out. The same area of skin just refuses to knit. Bugger! I think I'll leave that one in the hard basket for now.
For the record I thought I'd list the current side effects I'm suffering from during this cycle of Adcetris.
Back pain, cough, diarrhea, dizziness, hair loss, headache, joint pain, loss of appetite, muscle pain and spasms, mild sore throat, weight loss, fever & sweats, nausea, stomach pain, fatigue and tiredness, ringing in ears.
Other than that I'm fine! ;)
Off to get my eyes tested ! ...Ron
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Cycle Four
Sorry for the long break between posts. Last week was rather hectic.
I had several jobs I needed to complete before I left for the Wairarapa Rally on Thursday night to help with recce and sweeping. It's a job I enjoy and do every year.
On the Friday my brother Mark helps me with over-seeing the recce. (Reconnaissance) It's a day before the rally where the rally competitors get to drive over the entire 16 rally stages at normal speed in a standard car in order to make pace notes that will enable them to drive faster over the
roads when competing. Our job is to make sure the cars stay in convoy and don't get lost. This year we clocked up over 500km's in just the one day.
Then during the actual rally on Saturday and Sunday Sarah and I have the job of "sweeping" the even numbered stages. This basically means that we follow the last car through the stage and pick up paperwork from cars that have crashed or broken down. We also pick up paperwork from the timing crews and report all the information back to HQ via radio. It also gives me the opportunity to legally drive flat out on closed gravel roads, terrify Sarah and have a ball!. We even get to carry our own paramedic in the back seat. However they usually insist that they are there in case we come across a crashed car and not for my benefit ;)
Last Thursday afternoon I had an appointment with my Haematologist to discuss where things were at with my treatment. I had originally written a long list of things that I wanted to discuss but that morning I re-read the haematology clinic letter to my GP from October last year in which Dr D'Souza outlined that there was no longer a chance of any curative treatment and that he recommended that I choose a suitable hospice. That reminder was quite a wake up call. I'm certainly not going to complain about every ache and pain when I'm probably supposed to be dead by now! Luckily the Adcetris seems to be doing it's job.
Well that's what I think anyway, that it's doing it's job. But after speaking to Dr D'Souza he wasn't so sure. He was concerned by my on-going fevers. We have booked a CT scan for about 2-3 weeks from now and will make a decision then on whether to order more of the drug based on the results. It left me feeling quite flat.
However yesterday on the way back from the rally we drove to Palmerston North and I received my fourth cycle of Adcetris. It's the last of the first lot of the drug we have imported . I spoke to my oncologist Richard Isaacs about my state of health and he had a different impression. He felt that considering my lung damage, which is of unknown origin, and the fact that I was weening off steroids, it wasn't a surprise that I was running fevers. He too agreed that until we see the CT scan results we won't know. However he wasn't too concerned and remained quite upbeat. I felt a lot more confident after that conversation.
I mentioned that the ringing in my ears is now quite loud and that my haematologist felt that it was possibly neuropathy, a side effect of Adcetris. I also told him that the last cycle was particularly hard on me and that I didn't start to feel remotely well until the last three days of the 21 day cycle.
He thought it best to reduce the dose by 10% to reduce the toxicity. However as the drug had already been prepared that meant throwing away $1600 worth on the spot.
What's worse is that had we made that decision last week we could have used just two vials of Adcetris instead of three and saved $5500. Bugger! Oh well you can't dwell on these things, we have a budget for the drug and you just have to mentally write it off and not dwell on things otherwise you could get quite depressed!
Oddly enough Sarah and I still buy the specials at the supermarket and save petrol vouchers all to keep costs down. Then you blow a small fortune in the blink of an eye. I guess the best way to think about it is that it's only money and if I hadn't been classed as terminal last year then I wouldn't have it to spend on treatment anyway.
I have made an appointment later in the week for an eye exam. My left eye has rapidly degenerated and the glasses I got just two months ago are now almost useless. I figure I'll get the left lens replaced and the right lens which isn't so bad can stay. I also need new reading glasses. The ones I got two years ago are also useless. I can see better without them because of the nearsightedness of my left eye. Ultimately I'm hoping the cataract surgery I'll have at the end of this treatment will fix most if not all of my vision problems. The last eye exam showed no sign of nerve damage to the eye, so you'd have to expect it's all related to the cataracts.
Gosh add that to the hearing damage and everything else it's a wonder I still manage to smile some days! However I'm still here, doing lots of fun stuff and ultimately I don't let anything get in my way or slow me down. It's a case of playing the hand you are dealt and making the most of what I have.
It's sure is good that I have the total support of Sarah. To her nothing is a problem so big that we can't overcome it.
Anyway this post has dragged on I'll update again as things progress. I'm hoping this cycle will be easier than the last. Everyone agrees that I probably picked up a stomach bug last cycle and that made things a lot worse.
Cheers! ..Ron
I had several jobs I needed to complete before I left for the Wairarapa Rally on Thursday night to help with recce and sweeping. It's a job I enjoy and do every year.
On the Friday my brother Mark helps me with over-seeing the recce. (Reconnaissance) It's a day before the rally where the rally competitors get to drive over the entire 16 rally stages at normal speed in a standard car in order to make pace notes that will enable them to drive faster over the
roads when competing. Our job is to make sure the cars stay in convoy and don't get lost. This year we clocked up over 500km's in just the one day.
Then during the actual rally on Saturday and Sunday Sarah and I have the job of "sweeping" the even numbered stages. This basically means that we follow the last car through the stage and pick up paperwork from cars that have crashed or broken down. We also pick up paperwork from the timing crews and report all the information back to HQ via radio. It also gives me the opportunity to legally drive flat out on closed gravel roads, terrify Sarah and have a ball!. We even get to carry our own paramedic in the back seat. However they usually insist that they are there in case we come across a crashed car and not for my benefit ;)
Last Thursday afternoon I had an appointment with my Haematologist to discuss where things were at with my treatment. I had originally written a long list of things that I wanted to discuss but that morning I re-read the haematology clinic letter to my GP from October last year in which Dr D'Souza outlined that there was no longer a chance of any curative treatment and that he recommended that I choose a suitable hospice. That reminder was quite a wake up call. I'm certainly not going to complain about every ache and pain when I'm probably supposed to be dead by now! Luckily the Adcetris seems to be doing it's job.
Well that's what I think anyway, that it's doing it's job. But after speaking to Dr D'Souza he wasn't so sure. He was concerned by my on-going fevers. We have booked a CT scan for about 2-3 weeks from now and will make a decision then on whether to order more of the drug based on the results. It left me feeling quite flat.
However yesterday on the way back from the rally we drove to Palmerston North and I received my fourth cycle of Adcetris. It's the last of the first lot of the drug we have imported . I spoke to my oncologist Richard Isaacs about my state of health and he had a different impression. He felt that considering my lung damage, which is of unknown origin, and the fact that I was weening off steroids, it wasn't a surprise that I was running fevers. He too agreed that until we see the CT scan results we won't know. However he wasn't too concerned and remained quite upbeat. I felt a lot more confident after that conversation.
I mentioned that the ringing in my ears is now quite loud and that my haematologist felt that it was possibly neuropathy, a side effect of Adcetris. I also told him that the last cycle was particularly hard on me and that I didn't start to feel remotely well until the last three days of the 21 day cycle.
He thought it best to reduce the dose by 10% to reduce the toxicity. However as the drug had already been prepared that meant throwing away $1600 worth on the spot.
What's worse is that had we made that decision last week we could have used just two vials of Adcetris instead of three and saved $5500. Bugger! Oh well you can't dwell on these things, we have a budget for the drug and you just have to mentally write it off and not dwell on things otherwise you could get quite depressed!
Oddly enough Sarah and I still buy the specials at the supermarket and save petrol vouchers all to keep costs down. Then you blow a small fortune in the blink of an eye. I guess the best way to think about it is that it's only money and if I hadn't been classed as terminal last year then I wouldn't have it to spend on treatment anyway.
I have made an appointment later in the week for an eye exam. My left eye has rapidly degenerated and the glasses I got just two months ago are now almost useless. I figure I'll get the left lens replaced and the right lens which isn't so bad can stay. I also need new reading glasses. The ones I got two years ago are also useless. I can see better without them because of the nearsightedness of my left eye. Ultimately I'm hoping the cataract surgery I'll have at the end of this treatment will fix most if not all of my vision problems. The last eye exam showed no sign of nerve damage to the eye, so you'd have to expect it's all related to the cataracts.
Gosh add that to the hearing damage and everything else it's a wonder I still manage to smile some days! However I'm still here, doing lots of fun stuff and ultimately I don't let anything get in my way or slow me down. It's a case of playing the hand you are dealt and making the most of what I have.
It's sure is good that I have the total support of Sarah. To her nothing is a problem so big that we can't overcome it.
Anyway this post has dragged on I'll update again as things progress. I'm hoping this cycle will be easier than the last. Everyone agrees that I probably picked up a stomach bug last cycle and that made things a lot worse.
Cheers! ..Ron
Saturday, April 21, 2012
A trip to A&E
Yesterday morning I was awoken by the all to familiar symptoms of a fever. Shivering and a body that ached all over. A quick check of my temperature showed I was running at a very warm 38.3C.
One paracetamol, one nurofen and an hour later I was sweating my way back to a more normal figure of 36.8C.
Later in the day I emailed my oncologist and asked what he thought. My fear was that I was neutropenic, meaning no white blood cells or neutrophils.
I received his reply yesterday evening. He suggested I get a blood test done to rule out neutropenia.
However he also suggested I get it done at ED (Emergency Department) so that if I was neutropenic I could be treated straight away.
Now I absolutely hate going to A&E or ED or ER or whatever else anyone wants to call it ("hell hole" is one name that springs to mind). Whenever I walk through the doors it's either a six hour wait in an uncomfortable chair or worse as happened last time.. a seven week stay in hospital!
None the less I got up early this morning and ventured off to Lower Hutt Hospital A&E. My plan was to avoid the suffering crowds of Saturday morning sports injuries. There's nothing worse than sitting for hours beside a motocross rider with a foot that's facing the wrong way, or a mountain biker with a dislocated thumb, feeling like you should be making small-talk (or glib remarks), when all you want to do is get a blood test and to get out of there.
When I arrived I surveyed the room. Just two other patients waiting, both kids with a parent.
I filled out the required paperwork and waited for the triage nurse to call me up to the window.
I took a seat very close to the nurses station, figuring that if I had to stay here for a while I could at least entertain myself with my morbid sense of humour by listening in on the stories that the patients would be rolling out to justify their visit.
Ahead of me was a woman in her mid thirties and her ten year old daughter. They were soon called up and the nurse asked them what the problem was.
"My daughter has a problem with her achilles tendon in her left foot, we have come here several times before but it's just not getting better"
Hmm.. me thinks. Isn't that a job for a podiatrist, or at least her GP?
The triage nurse is obviously a very patient woman because in her shoes at this point I would have been showing her the door.
The nurse asks a series of questions and recieves long drawn out whining answers to each question. You know the type, they know they are pushing the boundaries but they figure if they talk long enough they just might sound convincing. Wrong!
All the while the mother's cellphone keeps ringing. Full volume and with a really annoying ring-tone.
Perhaps like the other 99% of the population she too has no idea of what silent mode is let alone when to use it. The nurse remains professional and continues on with her questions.
The ten year old girl is doing her best to look like she is in pain and miserable. However when she takes her mother's phone to answer a call from her sister, she slips back into normal mode and chats briefly before hanging up. Back to being in pain.
"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the pain" asks the nurse. "nine" whines the girl.
At this point I hold my head in my hands and I'm barely able to contain my mirth.
Nine on my pain scale is just below ten where mercifully you pass out.
At nine you are unable to speak, think or function at any level other than breathing. Your whole world is dominated by pain, your mouth is dry, your eyes fixed and dilated, pallor resembling that of a dead fish.
Your vision is narrowed to a single narrow tunnel of light and you are unable to process audible sounds let alone speech. You rock back and forth in a grey haze. ..I could go on.
This girl however, according to her mum has a very high pain threshold. So much so it would appear that when she sat down in the waiting room, she was able to jiggle away quite happily and tap both feet including the injured one, in time to some song playing in her head.
What is sad about this situation is not just the abuse of the Emergency clinic for what is quite clearly a long term chronic injury, but that this poor child has been denied proper specialist care by a mother who is either too stupid or too tight to seek it out.
By contrast the next patient was a young fair haired boy accompanied by his dad. He appeared to be about four or five years old. He did not speak the whole time he was there and held one hand over his right eye. Tears flowed silently from the other. I'm guessing he had scratched his eye or something similar as had it been worse I'm sure he would have been fast-tracked. Never the less, he was in pain, did not speak, certainly didn't jiggle and play about or even answer a cellphone call. The nurses gave him a lemonade ice-block to eat while he waited in silence. My heart went out to the little mite.
I had to cut short my study of the patients as the triage nurse decided I should be isolated from the other patients just in case I was neutropenic (luckily stupidity is not contagious). I was taken to a small examination room and a stream of doctors (well two) and nurses (three) came by to ask questions and take blood. I really did not want to be there but the risk from being neutropenic was just too high. In the past I've developed sepsis and been very, very sick after having low neutrophils from chemo and the stem cell transplant.
Then the first result came back, neutrophils 3.1. That's at the lower end of normal. At that point I just wanted out of there! But the doctor was concerned about my heart-rate. I've been mildly tachycardic for several years now and my normal resting rate is around 105-115BPM. Today it was 133 in triage but 114 once in the exam room. I explained this was normal for me. Then he queried my low platelet count of 30 (normal person 150-400) I explained that that too was normal for me. He left me once more and tried (and failed) to contact my oncologist to confer, leaving a voice message .
Two hours after walking through the doors I was set free and told to report back in if anything changed. I'd call that a lucky escape. I'm sure if my counts had been any lower they would have had me in for a few days hooked up to IV antibiotics and all the drama that goes with being admitted. Definitely not something I want to go through (again) right now.
As for the cause of the high fevers.. who knows? There's a stomach bug doing the rounds at the moment, I could have that. I wouldn't know as I currently have abdominal pain and diarrhea from the Adcetris and that would mask it. I've started myself on a course of antibiotics from my vast store of medicines just to be careful. ( and advised my oncologist )
...Ron
One paracetamol, one nurofen and an hour later I was sweating my way back to a more normal figure of 36.8C.
Later in the day I emailed my oncologist and asked what he thought. My fear was that I was neutropenic, meaning no white blood cells or neutrophils.
I received his reply yesterday evening. He suggested I get a blood test done to rule out neutropenia.
However he also suggested I get it done at ED (Emergency Department) so that if I was neutropenic I could be treated straight away.
Now I absolutely hate going to A&E or ED or ER or whatever else anyone wants to call it ("hell hole" is one name that springs to mind). Whenever I walk through the doors it's either a six hour wait in an uncomfortable chair or worse as happened last time.. a seven week stay in hospital!
None the less I got up early this morning and ventured off to Lower Hutt Hospital A&E. My plan was to avoid the suffering crowds of Saturday morning sports injuries. There's nothing worse than sitting for hours beside a motocross rider with a foot that's facing the wrong way, or a mountain biker with a dislocated thumb, feeling like you should be making small-talk (or glib remarks), when all you want to do is get a blood test and to get out of there.
When I arrived I surveyed the room. Just two other patients waiting, both kids with a parent.
I filled out the required paperwork and waited for the triage nurse to call me up to the window.
I took a seat very close to the nurses station, figuring that if I had to stay here for a while I could at least entertain myself with my morbid sense of humour by listening in on the stories that the patients would be rolling out to justify their visit.
Ahead of me was a woman in her mid thirties and her ten year old daughter. They were soon called up and the nurse asked them what the problem was.
"My daughter has a problem with her achilles tendon in her left foot, we have come here several times before but it's just not getting better"
Hmm.. me thinks. Isn't that a job for a podiatrist, or at least her GP?
The triage nurse is obviously a very patient woman because in her shoes at this point I would have been showing her the door.
The nurse asks a series of questions and recieves long drawn out whining answers to each question. You know the type, they know they are pushing the boundaries but they figure if they talk long enough they just might sound convincing. Wrong!
All the while the mother's cellphone keeps ringing. Full volume and with a really annoying ring-tone.
Perhaps like the other 99% of the population she too has no idea of what silent mode is let alone when to use it. The nurse remains professional and continues on with her questions.
The ten year old girl is doing her best to look like she is in pain and miserable. However when she takes her mother's phone to answer a call from her sister, she slips back into normal mode and chats briefly before hanging up. Back to being in pain.
"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the pain" asks the nurse. "nine" whines the girl.
At this point I hold my head in my hands and I'm barely able to contain my mirth.
Nine on my pain scale is just below ten where mercifully you pass out.
At nine you are unable to speak, think or function at any level other than breathing. Your whole world is dominated by pain, your mouth is dry, your eyes fixed and dilated, pallor resembling that of a dead fish.
Your vision is narrowed to a single narrow tunnel of light and you are unable to process audible sounds let alone speech. You rock back and forth in a grey haze. ..I could go on.
This girl however, according to her mum has a very high pain threshold. So much so it would appear that when she sat down in the waiting room, she was able to jiggle away quite happily and tap both feet including the injured one, in time to some song playing in her head.
What is sad about this situation is not just the abuse of the Emergency clinic for what is quite clearly a long term chronic injury, but that this poor child has been denied proper specialist care by a mother who is either too stupid or too tight to seek it out.
By contrast the next patient was a young fair haired boy accompanied by his dad. He appeared to be about four or five years old. He did not speak the whole time he was there and held one hand over his right eye. Tears flowed silently from the other. I'm guessing he had scratched his eye or something similar as had it been worse I'm sure he would have been fast-tracked. Never the less, he was in pain, did not speak, certainly didn't jiggle and play about or even answer a cellphone call. The nurses gave him a lemonade ice-block to eat while he waited in silence. My heart went out to the little mite.
I had to cut short my study of the patients as the triage nurse decided I should be isolated from the other patients just in case I was neutropenic (luckily stupidity is not contagious). I was taken to a small examination room and a stream of doctors (well two) and nurses (three) came by to ask questions and take blood. I really did not want to be there but the risk from being neutropenic was just too high. In the past I've developed sepsis and been very, very sick after having low neutrophils from chemo and the stem cell transplant.
Then the first result came back, neutrophils 3.1. That's at the lower end of normal. At that point I just wanted out of there! But the doctor was concerned about my heart-rate. I've been mildly tachycardic for several years now and my normal resting rate is around 105-115BPM. Today it was 133 in triage but 114 once in the exam room. I explained this was normal for me. Then he queried my low platelet count of 30 (normal person 150-400) I explained that that too was normal for me. He left me once more and tried (and failed) to contact my oncologist to confer, leaving a voice message .
Two hours after walking through the doors I was set free and told to report back in if anything changed. I'd call that a lucky escape. I'm sure if my counts had been any lower they would have had me in for a few days hooked up to IV antibiotics and all the drama that goes with being admitted. Definitely not something I want to go through (again) right now.
As for the cause of the high fevers.. who knows? There's a stomach bug doing the rounds at the moment, I could have that. I wouldn't know as I currently have abdominal pain and diarrhea from the Adcetris and that would mask it. I've started myself on a course of antibiotics from my vast store of medicines just to be careful. ( and advised my oncologist )
...Ron
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
The third Cycle the first seven days.
It seems to be getting harder with each cycle.
Days 2, 3 & 4 were particularly tough with severe muscle and joint pain. I'm now on day 6 and I've been stricken with abdominal pain and diarrhea since day 4. Whether I've picked up a stomach virus or the toxicity levels are building with each cycle it's hard to say.
The joint pains are now much improved however. This at least puts me in a much better frame of mind, I was starting to feel like I was ninety. Hobbling around the house all stiff and inflexible.
Sarah and I went away for four days last week and stayed at a rented beach house. It was great! So much so that we put a cheeky offer on a little 1880 cottage that was for sale nearby and today our offer was accepted by the seller.That will keep us busy for a while with lots of hunting secondhand shops for period items to decorate it. The actual building and land are immaculate, so there's nothing to do there. (with is nice)
Here's a pic of it below.
At the rear of the cottage there is a contemporary extension giving plenty of room for the kitchen and a large lounge with doors that open onto a private courtyard. The back lawn is huge at around a 1/4 acre, plenty of space for beach cricket, tents and caravans. The plan is to retire there in the long term and we bought now because property prices are so low, especially for second homes.
Tomorrow I have a bone density scan booked. It will be interesting to see if there has been much change from last year's scan. I hope it's not worse! My broken ribs have stopped clicking, so hopefully they are once again on the mend. I took the stitches out of my elbow (well actually Sarah did because I don't have three arms) and all looked good until I woke yesterday morning to find I'd left a hand sized pool of blood on the bedsheets.
The wound didn't look like it had opened up to any great extent so I'm hoping that it was just a bit of the top layer of skin that had pulled away after rolling over in bed. I've held it together with stero-strips and a bandage to cushion the elbow. I'm hoping that will do the trick and I won't have a repeat of the non-healing wound from the last biopsy.
There's heaps of work on at the moment. I've been booking it all forward so I can have a few days rest with this upset stomach. The problem with bulldozing it all into the coming weeks is that eventually it will all catch up with me and I'll be super-busy! Hopefully I'll be well though, so it won't be too arduous.
...Ron
Days 2, 3 & 4 were particularly tough with severe muscle and joint pain. I'm now on day 6 and I've been stricken with abdominal pain and diarrhea since day 4. Whether I've picked up a stomach virus or the toxicity levels are building with each cycle it's hard to say.
The joint pains are now much improved however. This at least puts me in a much better frame of mind, I was starting to feel like I was ninety. Hobbling around the house all stiff and inflexible.
Sarah and I went away for four days last week and stayed at a rented beach house. It was great! So much so that we put a cheeky offer on a little 1880 cottage that was for sale nearby and today our offer was accepted by the seller.That will keep us busy for a while with lots of hunting secondhand shops for period items to decorate it. The actual building and land are immaculate, so there's nothing to do there. (with is nice)
Here's a pic of it below.
At the rear of the cottage there is a contemporary extension giving plenty of room for the kitchen and a large lounge with doors that open onto a private courtyard. The back lawn is huge at around a 1/4 acre, plenty of space for beach cricket, tents and caravans. The plan is to retire there in the long term and we bought now because property prices are so low, especially for second homes.
Tomorrow I have a bone density scan booked. It will be interesting to see if there has been much change from last year's scan. I hope it's not worse! My broken ribs have stopped clicking, so hopefully they are once again on the mend. I took the stitches out of my elbow (well actually Sarah did because I don't have three arms) and all looked good until I woke yesterday morning to find I'd left a hand sized pool of blood on the bedsheets.
The wound didn't look like it had opened up to any great extent so I'm hoping that it was just a bit of the top layer of skin that had pulled away after rolling over in bed. I've held it together with stero-strips and a bandage to cushion the elbow. I'm hoping that will do the trick and I won't have a repeat of the non-healing wound from the last biopsy.
There's heaps of work on at the moment. I've been booking it all forward so I can have a few days rest with this upset stomach. The problem with bulldozing it all into the coming weeks is that eventually it will all catch up with me and I'll be super-busy! Hopefully I'll be well though, so it won't be too arduous.
...Ron
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