There's Great News... Good News... And Bad news...

Hello good citizens of blog city…    Captain red pants here to save the day…   flying capeless around the good city of blog, in my bright red pants and blue ‘swimming pool attendant’ flip flops…   ridding the city of any wrong doings, such as, running, pushing, shouting, peeing in the pool and above all…   the worst crime there is… heavy petting!!!   (I refer you to my skinny picture of me in my last entry)

So…   who wants to hear my news…?   Ah?   And in what order do you want it…?   Eh?   Some folk want the bad straight off the bat… “give it to me now!”…    others prefer the softer touch, with a nice cushion of good to soften the bad.   Now this, not being an interactive service sadly… I don’t have any expensive 0907 numbers for you to dial to vote in an order of news…   this isn’t the ‘X tractor’…   you will just have to face the news as its given…   so…   we start with the great news first…

Last Monday I was told by one of the doctors the amazing news… dahn dahn daaah… I HAVE NEUTROPHILS… YEEEESSSS!!!   IVE GROWN SOME…   IVE GOT SOME… ALL 0.2 OF THEM… WOO HOO!!!   Well… if I played my cards right, I could be out of here in the next few days… maybe Friday (25^th)…   remember, the magic number we are looking for is 0.5 for release… (a normal level in a well person is around 5, by the way)   So… that’s exciting… woo hoo!!!   Great news!!!

Then a few hours later came the good news…   Around 3pm I was seen by Dr S, my consultant, on his usual Monday afternoon ward round.   I was with my folks in the day room, writing the last blog, actually, when one of the docs said ‘HE’ was waiting in my room to see me.   So the Russian and I made our way back to side room 10 to see the main man, the big wedge of stilton, le grand fromage…   I was so happy about the neutrophils news that I was thinking of how to joke about it and generally pratt about with him in celebration of the fact that if the levels climb as they should I could be out and home by the end of the week!!!   Yessss…   So, I walked into my room and warmly greeted all the people that were there waiting for me.   Dr S struck up,   “well, I’m sure your more than aware of the neutrophil levels being at 0.2…?   we’re very happy with that… so…  I think we can send you home…TODAY!!!!”

“WHAT???”

I was stood up at the end of my bed… and with this news duly dropped onto me I found myself sitting down suddenly in sheer disbelief…   all gags, gaffs and smart arsed remarks deserted my thoughts… which were now preoccupied with things like… “but im only at 0.2… how are we going to get all my stuff home tonight?   Mum and dad ain’t got their car today… surely it cant all fit into the Russians ‘T34’ tank (its actually a smart car but generally built the same and just rides just as hard!)… what about food… we’ve got 2 cats, shall I stay away… shall I stay in one more night just to make sure the counts are on the up?... what? If? Who? How? When?...

I sat there, looking up at the doc in disbelief and watching his mouth opening and closing as he talked about… er… stuff I suppose… I couldn’t hear anything except someone telling me I was going home… TODAY… this afternoon… over and over again, in a very familiar voice… my own… in my head…

“…and lastly, of course, you will have to wait for all your home meds to be bought up from pharmacy too.   Ok Chris?”

“Uuugh..?   I’m sorry Dr Shamash… er, could you repeat ALL of that, for me please?”

So by 7:30 pm I had been given all my drugs and was walking out of side room 10!

Home!!!

Now for the bad news…

One of the things Dr S had said to me whilst I was being deafened by my own thoughts was that because I was still at risk from infection I needed to come back to the hospital every single day for blood tests to keep a very close eye on me.   We were cool with that… in fact I was more than cool with it.   Why?   One of the worst things about being home after hospital is the irresistible desire to get back in touch with normality.    One of the most frustrating things is being bored in your own home because there is nothing that you can do.   Its right there under your nose…   everything you own and collected in your life is waiting for you to use or play with.   At level best all I’m fit for at this stage is watching films and TV but really I want to cook and work in the garden and (believe it or not) help around the house… simply empty the bin or unload the dishwasher…  but no!    My best efforts ‘gang aft agley!’ to quote the poet, Robbie Burns… ‘go wrong often.’   A simple task like standing, well there’s a challenge for a start and stairs… bloody hell… don’t talk to me about stairs… let me tell you, coming down is a lot worse than going up.   From the few marathon runners that I’ve spoken to in the past, it’s the going down stairs that’s the killer on your lower thighs.   It’s currently the same with me, having not used stairs for five weeks!!!

So… here we are, 13 hours after leaving it, my pop’s and I are back at the hospital.   bright and breezy.   Its now around 11am and we’re sat in the St Bart’s café having a nice cuppa and a reasonably warm cooked breakfast.   (nowhere near as epic as the one I blogged about back in Febuary but not bad for one of those ‘all day’ breakfast’s that really has been there… ALL DAY!)

The phone rings.   It’s the day ward calling to tell me the results of today’s blood test… this should be good.   Gary on the ward who was let out the Saturday before me had something like a day at 0.1 the next at 0.3 and the next was 0.7 when they let him home.   What was mine gonnna be…?   Well, I’m already starting at 0.2 so lets assume its jumped a minimum of 0.2 again so I’m gonna plump for at least 0.4 or even the magic 0.5 number…

“hello, yes hi… yes white cells 0.3, same as yesterday, ok, haemoglobin 12, not too bad, platelets 14, good… and the neutrophils…?”   “ZERO POINT ZERO…”   “you’re quite sure of that,  0.0?!? … yes… ok… I don’t need any transfusions of any kind today so I can go home…thank you.”

Can I really go home?    I’m back to square bloody one here… 0.0, how can that be?   I’d better leave a message with Dr S to see if I need to come and stay in the hospital over night… SOME MORE!!! UUUGH, NOOOO!!!!

I left a message with Katherine the support nurse thinking we’ll go home now and if they call us back I can bring a small overnight bag back with me.   Then, not far from home about 50 minutes later, the call comes in…

“Hi Chris, its Katherine from St Bartholomew’s…”     I sort of held my breath and closed my eyes some what, expecting the worst.   I thought I was heading back in for sure after only one night and one day of freedom but she told me I was ok to stay at home but don’t see anyone, don’t go anywhere and do nothing.   She added, Stick to the current diet of cooked food only, nothing fresh that might infect me.   I was to closely monitor my temperature and if there was the slightest hint of rise or being unwell, to get back to the hospital asap!   I was allowed to stay out because I was coming in every day and it had been shown that my body was capable of producing these darn illusive neutrophils.  It shouldn’t be too long before they return.

So that’s good… that’s not bad news, really.   Except for one thing… I’m writing this on Monday the 28^th and all week, every day I’ve been back and forth to that blasted place and still no sign of a single neutrophil! Bugger!   Spending between 2 and 6 hours mostly waiting for platelets, to be seen, for blood results and on one occasion, pharmacy… the greatest drag of them all!   The real worry is that it’s been a whole week and still not a sausage!   That’s the bad news…

I’ve been hoping that my levels would rise as expected and that I could announce to the world that I’m home and can get about soon and start to try to socialise once again.   But no… that’s why I’ve been keeping the fact that I’m home on the hush hush for a time.   I wanted to get used to being at home, enjoy it, get my strength and immune system back and then get amongst it!   The “dolls house” syndrome of coming home to a seemingly smaller house and familiarising myself with everything only lasted a day, this time.   The daily commute to the hospital has pre occupied me somewhat which is good and I’ve had some lovey cosy TV dinners in with the Russian most evenings on our comfy sofa’s with the heating on under a blanket and our cats mooching about the place.   It’s been very nice, very nice indeed.  

I have loved being at home but with zero neutrophils I was constantly worried about being called in to the ‘big house’ once again.   So far so good… just need to keep the neutrophil rain dance going for the foreseeable future…  come on all… join in if you know the words… “UMM DUMM NEUTROPHIL COME… UMM DUMM NEUTROPHIL COME… UMM DUMM NEUTROPHIL COME… UMM DUMM NEUTROPHIL COME… UMM DUMM NEUTROPHIL COME… UMM DUMM NEUTROPHIL COME…”

Right, I’m off to wash my bright red pants… I think someone needs me at the local baths… there’s a kid in trouble in the shallow end struggling to do widths with a floating swimming aid!  I must dash…

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