peter A cross

ramblings from a troubled mind

Posts Tagged ‘Mrs Marsh

I knew all along she was a toxic ol’ queen

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The first week of Chemo and Radio are ‘dun and dusted.’ Was it bad, hard, a struggle?        

Nup, not really, but the first week never is. All the effects are cumulative so as treatment continues then it’s ‘layer upon layer upon layer’ or as Mrs. Marsh would say, “Just like the liquid gets into the chalk.”        

I know that saying had little to do with what I’m talking about but I was determined to use it.        

I checked in to the P of W about midday on the Monday and pretty much immediately was hooked up to the ‘bag’ and remained so for five days.        

Finally I’m given a window bed. At least if I can’t be outside I can feel slightly more expansive than being surrounded by hospital curtains and snoring, farting old men (yes I’m including myself in that.)        

I was escorted down to Radio late that afternoon by a nurse and wards man. It seems once you’re attached to the 5FU you can’t be trusted out of the ward alone; the chemicals that are being pumped into your veins and ‘body bits’ are so toxic that should they touch anyone who doesn’t have cancer then… well what happens is never really explained.        

drip by drip - well what else can I stare at?

So the rules are: Don’t leave the ward, don’t travel without a spill kit, don’t have sex (yeah right as if that’s going to happen) and, most importantly, make sure that you flush TWICE after you have pee’d.        

Hospital isn’t such a bad place once the staff all get to know your routine and you theirs. My main complaint is the pillows; plastic covered pillows are a pain to sleep on, they hurt my ears and make me sweat.        

I won’t mention the food because these days I am being feed through a tube in me ‘tum tum.’ Efficient but hardly one of the great dining experiences of my life.        

Remember I how I was prattling on a week or so ago about my cystoscopy, well now it gets interesting. At some stage while they were emptying then refilling my bladder some cheeky little bug crept up me ‘willy’ and had itself a partay in me bladder. Easily treated, once discovered, however there was a very peculiar side effect, every time I needed to pee my, for want of a better word, willy,  would fill with blood, just like an erection – only not, and as I was peeing me ‘butt’ would contract and open and contract and open a few times. At first it was rather pleasant, “Hey at my age you get your pleasures where you can.”         

Now as amusing as all this maybe the unexpected consequence, yes there’s always a consequence, was that I would have what is known in the retail industry as a ‘two for.’ The problem was, aside from the eventual pain, that I couldn’t pee unless I was standing up and… well I’m sure you’ve got the picture by now.  If you haven’t leave me a comment and I can explain it graphically, you know I ain’t shy. Finally the results came back from the lab, on the afternoon of my very last day; the bug was identified, the right antibiotics prescribed and all is returning to S.O.P.         

Again I’m so glad to be at home and in my own freshly made bed with soft pillows and sheets with a thread count of more than 25.        

I think the break was good for Richard too, rather than sitting next to me every night as I stare at the TV that I continually have to turn down, when he isn’t watching and he of course sneaks it back up when he thinks I’ve drifted off. He has become, I wouldn’t say deaf but just VERY, VERY hard of hearing.        

I’m home again now until the 14thof January, I think,  then back in for the final week of Chemo. Just Radio every week day now and lucky me some days twice to cover the Christmas and New Years breaks.        

Thank god it’s started… at last… now I just wish it was over already.


Written by peteracross

December 19, 2009 at 16:41

Posted in cancer, Peter Cross

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