"You asked me once," said O'Brien, "what was in Room 101.
I told you that you knew the answer already.
Everyone knows it.
The thing that is in Room 101 is the worst thing in the world."
The trademark beard has started to fall out.
I might need to rename the blog.
Well, yesterday the ophthalmologist assessed my eyes and found minor damage to the retina in the right eye. It's nothing to worry about and it's not the cause of the photophobia - she couldn't pin down a cause for the increased sensitivity but she will continue her investigations. Basically, it's a "wait and see" scenario 🙂 with an outpatient appointment (LOL) two weeks hence.
I spent the afternoon and evening with huge pupils due to the dilation drops, the nurses said that I looked like the cat from Shrek.
They all say that I am reacting well to the treatment and that my blood-counts are on the up, so that's good news.
The not-so-good news is that for some reason I have developed a selective photophobia. I've had a similar thing a few times before when accidentally exposed to welding glare, in the trade we called it arc-eye, the proper term is Photokeratitis and that is due to exposure to strong UV emissions. Anyone who has ever had it will know just how excruciating it can be.
This time, however, it's different. I'm fine with most light sources, but the strip-lights in the ward corridors and rooms are driving me crazy. The Wikipedia page for photophobia lists chemotherapy as a cause, and the docs are going to get an Ophthalmologist to take a peek at my mince-pies. I thought that their interim advice for me to "keep an eye on things to see if they get worse" was a tad droll.
Oh, and the combination of high-sugar, high-carb, high-protein drinks, antibiotics and a new dietary regime (at odds with the diet recommended by the cardio peeps) has given me the raging trots. I tell you, I could shit through the eye of a needle!
So you can imagine the scene... a temporarily blinded man racing down an obstacle-filled over-lit corridor to get to the over-lit toilets...
Some you win, some you lose 🙁
Can you tell that the prescribed NiQuitin Step 2 nicotine patches aren't quite cutting the mustard? Still, they are better than nothing - I had to wait 3 or 4 days for the first lot of patches, and when they arrived they were Step 3 when I really should have been started on Step 1. I'm down to 2 ciggies a day, I think that's a major reduction and I feel quite triumphant. Others have their own opinions, but generally they have never smoked and don't understand how difficult it is to kick a 30+ year habit in such a short period of time.
I would like to give up completely, but the boredom here now, and the prospect of another 4 weeks of it, are not exactly conducive to a measured, managed and controlled withdrawal from the ubiquitous South American herbal remedy. Oddly, the staff here consider e-cigs to be a total no-no due to the lack of scientific evidence of their safety, despite the lack of tar and particulates found in "proper" smoke.
Apart from that, I'm fine. Honest!
Woohoo! - they've finished poisoning me!
This morning I had my final dose of chemo for Cycle 1. For the next four weeks I will be playing the waiting game while my system attempts to reboot. Hopefully there will be no BSOD - the odds are in my favour at about 80:20 (some sources say 85:15).
For those who are interested, I've been on a "3 & 10" chemo regime. That means 3 days of Daunorubicin (days 1, 3 & 5) combined with 10 days of Cytarabine (days 1-10), all given IV up a PICC Line. The Daunorubicin was an hour per bag, looked like Irn Bru and made my piss the same colour, which was a tad disconcerting at first. It also made me nauseous the next day. The Cytarabine was a syringe job taking only a few minutes, it was clear stuff which stank. I had a persistent slow nosebleed which meant that some Cytarabine leaked into my sinuses and throat when they administered it, the smell of it was slowly sending me around the bend. It also gave me a lovely chemical burn down the throat.
Anyway, the nosebleed has stopped because they gave me a platelet transfusion last night. And I will get a haemoglobin transfusion later today which will perk me up a bit.
per ardua ad alta, as they say at my alma mater.
When Santa asked me what I wanted for Christmas this year, I said that I'd like some Turkish Delight and that would be enough.
Well, I got the Turkish Delight, but I wasn't expecting to be sitting in hospital scoffing it while being pumped full of chemo drugs on Christmas Eve.
Acute Myeloid Leukaemia (AML) Type FAB M2.
Bugger.
A few changes to the first-aid kit:
I never bothered with a Styptic Pencil when I used to wet-shave, but of late it's been handy to have around for those minor nicks and scrapes on various bits of me. Being on Clopidogrel and Aspirin means that even the smallest cut can take over three hours to stop bleeding, but one application of this stick stops most leaks within seconds. Stings a bit, though. Costing less than two quid, weighing only 12g and lasting for many years, it's a worthwhile addition to a first-aid kit regardless of background afflictions.
I've changed tack on tick-removers. For years I'd been using a Care Plus Tick-Out, it was good for pulling out the big ticks but iffy for the tiny ones. Now I'm using the O'Tom Tick Twisters that I liberated from the cat's med-box, these babies cope with all sizes of ticks and are a lot easier to use and to clean. Two sizes per pack, a choice of colours, piss-cheap from the vet's, and only 2g for the pair! What's not to like?
The final one needs no explanation:
