The Week From Hell

A day or so after my blood transfusion, the cold that had been lurking in the background decided to make itself felt, with a vengeance.

I managed about 2 hours at work on the Monday before I decided that bed would be a better plance to be.

I spent the rest of Monday, all of Tuesday and Wednesday in bed.

On Thursday I had a long standing doctor's appointment for my very itchy back. I reckon that given my appointment was at 10am I would probably be back home in bed by about 11am at the latest. I arrived at 9.30am and go straight in as the other patients had not turned up. Result! The doctor prescribes various creams and anti-histamines and then checks my blood pressure, temperature and heart rate. It turns out I'm tachycardic. She is concerned. I am not. She wants to run blood tests and all the rest. I am fed up with having needles stuck in my arm. We agree that the practice nurse will do an ECG. It shows nothing untoward apart from a fast heart rate. The doctor says it might be because of an infection. At some point a possible infection is changed to a pulmonary embolism. I have no other symptoms other than a fast heart rate. I very much doubt that it is a PE as I have had a near permenant nose bleed for the whole of the previous week which would indicate that blood clots are not a problem.

After much discussion and negotiation I agree to go to the ambulatory care unit.

I arrive at about 11.30am and have an enormous cannular inserted, badly, into my arm. More blood is taken. I am then sent for yet another ECG. Then I wait and wait. I would like to point out that I like ambulatory care as they do get their patients out quite quickly. As I wait all I want to do is go home to bed. At about 1pm I get to see a doctor who asks me all the usual questions about how I'm feeling, my bowels, aches, breathing etc. He then checks my heart and lungs with his stethoscope. He says that my platelets are a bit low, but they won't give me a transfusion as it's really the oncologist's call. He says I'm fine and can go home.

The same nurse who put the cannular in comes to remove it. In my haste to escape I did not put enough pressure for long enough on the puncture site. As I am walking away from the unit I can feel a warm wet sensation emanating from my elbow. I apply pressure and hope for the best. Next time you are watching some TV or film thriller where the actor rips the IV drip out of their arm and walks off, remember that there should be a trail of blood. I digress. I get home and the blood stain on my jumper is substantial, but at least the bleeding has stopped. I finally and gratefully go to bed.

Friday I have a full CT scan booked in the afternoon, so off I go, having not eaten anything for 4 hours as instructed. I have to have yet another cannular inserted. I point out to the lovely, lovely radiographer the trials and tribulations of the various cannular insertions. He looks at my arm, and oozing the most comforting confidence, says "No problem." He was right, straight in first time.

As the weekend progresses my cold finally begins to abate and by Monday I actually manage to do a whole day at work which fills me with a huge sense of accomplishment.