The longest week and this weeks trail

My trusty steed

The week following the biopsy was disappointing and stressful. It just so happened that there was a bank holiday the weekend following the biospy so the labs wouldn't be able to work their magic on the chunks of furball I'd donated.

It's truly amazing how time and stress go hand in hand, time slows down and stress levels rise. I was trying to keep a level head and a level voice when teaching and talking to colleagues at school. It was easier teaching, kids are a great leveller, be they your own or just ones you come into contact with. There were a couple of moments though were I nearly lost my composure, one of my form was suffering with a cold and being a bit melodramatic stated she was dying, me being me asked her to do it quietly. Another was a conversation with a very able young man, they are there and they do exist but they are few and far between. I had entered a small team into a competition for CAD (computer aided design) use. Unfortunately given the probability I'd be off for some time I decided to withdraw the entry. Telling him was really hard and the hardest thing was not telling him entirely why. I told him when I knew more then I'd tell him.

Friends are so important when living through a saga like this. Mark said he'd taken the day off and we could go for a ride to help my head. Riding has been a saviour of mine for some time, it's helped me get fitter, helped me meet some of the best friends a person could meet and it saved me from the depths of depression a couple of years ago. Part of the joy is the natural endorphins coursing through the veins, part is the physical satisfaction of reaching the top with the knowledge that you've earned your next down hill. But the best two bits are riding down a tricky, steep, technical section without crashing or making too many mistakes but then talking it through with your riding partner. We rode up from Marks and gained a lot of height quickly, not good for my breathing but hey we'd be at the top sooner. We started the cliff and there a naddgery little move over a stream which I had failed at several times and had a real ghost about. This time I rode it, first time, no dabs or wavers just rode it like I knew I could but hadn't done. Whether it was the new forks I'd been obsessing over for a year or two or whether my head needed small successes especially today I don't know. I was so happy to conquer a little obstacle that I was still smiling when I found I'd got a flat tyre!

We rode along the cliff and did some new trails mark had been on, finding new trails is just such a bonus it can't be described easily. Especially when they have such sweet sections like 'this weeks trail', they all have names and some are descriptive of the trail style others come from beer fueled sessions (Marylin Monroe, Missing Link, Mini Cliff, Tree stump, Branchline, Sniper, Rocky bob, Prince Phillip, Aussie rules). Doing a new trail and riding the majority of it is one of the best feelings in the world for me, not like sex in anyway shape or form but really good.

We called in to Marks for tea and medals and a just to chat. It had been the best tonic for what was to come. It had been a normal time, believe me, normal in this situation is to be cherished.

Going to the hospital to find out what the prognosis was going to be was a hell of a drive. It's only twenty minutes but boy did it feel longer. Waiting in the waiting room was weird, a lot of people there, were they there to get good news or bad. Who know's, what will my news be?

NGH Staff

Now obviously this blog is my account and my experience but the care I received was excellent, from the post biopsy tea and toast (being starved from midnight, let me tell you it was the best tea and medals ever) to the porters who cheerfully pushed my and my morrisons bed up and down the corridors, mostly sideways.

I want to say a bit of a sorry, one of the porters was chatting as we were on the way down to the ward and he said "A bit young to be on here aren't you mate?" now normally I don't respond to being called mate but I was fairly chilled having had a successful procedure carried out without any major bleeding or collapsing lungs. "Well when you get told you've got cancer you go where you're told", I hadn't meant it to come out so hard or with such finality but I guess it must have done as he recoiled a little and apologised immediately. If I meet him again with the advantage of hindsight I'll say sorry, he wasn't to know and he was after all making conversation.

So it was bed, confined to bed for the rest of the day. Just incase my lung did collapse or any cuts decided to bleed. It's ok, Wendy arranged the rucksack of stuff so I could reach it from my bed the nurse set my bed up so that I was comfortable and hey presto sorted. Life of luxury.......til it came time to pee. I didn't press the call button as I wasn't desperate but then an orderly came by so I asked him what the story was, stating I was confined to the bed. He checked and then found my a chamber pot, well kind of, more like a carafe of wine that had been flattened on one side. Ok so this is easy just aim and fi....... wo there if I fill this, which I felt quite capable of doing, it's all going to pool next to my backside. All this because of the fancy bed which now has my arse lower than my legs! Comfort at the price of practicality. So I utch myself up the bed trying not to put any strain on anything that could collapse or bleed, bit further, bit further, oh come on hurry up. There that'll have to do, oooooooohhhh that feels good, so good, oops hows the level doing..... oh we're going to be ok. And relax, well that's a wait off. 20 minutes later it was like being down town again, fatal first pee, can't stop going now. Shuffle utch, shuffle utch and relax.

I was glad I went when I did though as next stop was for a chest xray to check that everything was still intact and that I could go home. Come on the results, home time, chilling with Wend and our girls. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

CT Guided Biopsy part 4! Last one hopefully!

So there you are, in a weird room, laid on a moving bed that you have no control over, your head in a dirty great big polo and everyone around you is wearing some sort of body armour. I could feel my self getting tense and thought this is bloody silly but how do I chill myself out and relax? Then I was aware of the number of people in the room at the same time, I could see about 8 but Wendy told me after there were at least 11 in and out of the scan room. This brought it home to me, these people are trying to prolong if not save my life. They are putting themselves at some risk because of the emissions from the scanner to try and help me. They don't know me from Adam but there they are, yes it's their job but they could have been a milkman or something less risky.

Weird as this thought was it settled me and just calmed me enough to get into a good head space.

"Can you tell me everything you're doing please? I don't mind what you're doing just tell me everything please." I have a simple way of coping with procedures, if I know whats coming and why it's going to happen (the mechanics of the process) then I can cope with it. It all stems from a witch of a dentist I had when I was a kid. She'd hold the syringe behind her back and then jab you when you were expecting a bit of a flossing! She was evil and not even a very good dentist but there we go, can't tar them all with the same brush!

First was probably the most painful bit. Four long Cotton buds taped together were then taped to my chest. They were evenly spaced and placed on my chest pointing from my head to my toes. Then I went into the scanner, there'll be a lot of this, this allowed them to determine where the incision needed to be. They could use the ribs for the position height ways and then the cotton buds for the distance across. Once happy they marked the exact position with a permanent marker and pulled off the cotton buds. Ooooh not good, not as bad as the ECG pads but there's even less hair on my chest now and it's in weird bald patterns like I have a small mower that I trim it with.

Then the cold bit. To clean the area they used a liquid which must have had a high alcohol content, not because I drank it but from the way it evaporated. Cor blimey it was like the Saundersfoot charity swim all over again.

Now come the needles. Firstly the local anaesthetic, just a scratch into the skin, not very deep. Then the good stuff, the deeper anaesthetic, ooh that's deep, should it go all the way through......surely it must be there by now. "I wish you'd told me you were going to leave that in" how I didn't say what I was thinking which was along the lines of: what the f**k are you doing you've left the needle bit in me, aaargh it's bust, is he completely stupid? "Oh I'm very sorry, I'm going to leave that in you, sorry I should have said." Too effing right you should have said but hey we're all human. He'd left the needle in so he could attach a second syringe which had even more anaesthetic in and pumped that into my chest cavity.

"Just show Mr Hart the biopsy tool and operate it so he know's what it sounds like please" There were two people doing the actual biopsy, one (Mr Bull I think) was the senior of the two he was guiding and training the other guy who's name has gone. Mr Bull had registered my annoyance at the needle incident and was makign sure nothing happened further into the procedure. I'm glad they operated the mechanism before it went into me as it went with a real good click, nearly a bang but not quite. So they thread the tool into my chest and are trying to position it best they can. "Into the scanner please and hold there. Right back out again and a bit deeper." Mr Bull was holding the tool with a massive pair of tongues, you know the sort you use for turning bangers on a bbq but made of stainless and costing way more than the average bbq. This way he could see the screen of the scanner and where the biopsy grabber (must be a better name for it but I'm not sur eof one) was in relation to the furball. "Right in a little further and then we're going to take the biopsy." BANG, ok so the click I'd heard earlier was magnified within my body and although probably no louder to the ear of a bystander to me it was like a little firework going off in my chest. "Ok that's great, lets take another one while we're here so the lab has plenty to go at." So they repeat the whole positioning process again and take another biopsy.

Then as quickly as they had started it was done, "Well done Mr Hart, we've got two good biopsy's for them to work at and everything went well." Everyone within the scanner room appeared relieved and relaxation and humour crept into the conversation again.

CT Guided Biopsy part 3

Wendy had arrived having taken the girls to school, she'd decided and I was happy with the decision that she'd be there most of the day to keep me company. It made life much easier and was just a reassurance as the biopsy process was going to be exciting at best and downright effing dangerous at worst.

Due to the position of my furball they have to pass through a little bit of the outer lung wall, as they do this there maybe a chance that air gets in and collapses my lung.........nice. Then once they are through my lung they will be really close to the main arteries around my heart, so if they nick one then I have a really good chance of a 'significant' bleed.

The porters at NGH are great, I guess they learn on the job (so to speak) how to interact with people and patients. They have a wicked sense of humour, well the ones I met did and a terrific sense of direction. I think there are people walking around Northern General who could have left years ago.....lost in the enormity of the place. "Worse than bloody Morrison's this one" I felt really bad for the guys who'd come to take me up for the biopsy. 16 stone of lump laid on a bed which in a past life was a supermarket trolley. "Sorry lads I feel like a fraud. I'll walk if you want." "No lad you stay where you are, we just do what we're told. I reckon you should do the same" Wendy laughed at this, there's a definite hierarchy in our house, when we had fish I was below them in the pecking order. Everyone say aaaawww.!

Sideways through one corridor, in to the barriers up another, reverse into the lift and all breath in. Round the houses and we're there, on the way we've discussed the weather (obviously), the new wing of the hospital, the porters progress towards emigrating and the number of points you get for knocking over a consultant or another porter!

I was back in the CT scanning waiting area, this time I was one of the ones taking up space on a trolley, not wandering in in my civvies and reading a magazine. These little holding areas are amazing, you get to see all sorts of people the young and the old the scared and the brave. all walks of life. Illness is a great leveller, a little like war or extreme loss, none of us know how we'll react given a certain situation.

Observations, blood pressure, oxygen saturation and pulse were all taken regularly from being on the ward to being in the CT scanning room. "Lay on you back Mr. Hart" "Call me Nick please" "Ok and your head this end please. Arms onto your front and hold them still please." Getting comfortable when your having needles dug around your chest was going to be key the the success of the procedure and to my well being. As I was introduced to the consultant and some of his team they moved me into the scanner. When I had been in the time before I'd gone in feet first, this time head first the design of the bed meant my arms slipped and were no longer supported. I was petrified that because I'd moved I may have messed up some part of the scan. As it happened it was fine but no where near as comfortable as before the movement.

CT Guided Biopsy part 2

As the sun was setting and the car park was filling, visiting time, I saw Wend and dad arrive. Although it had only been a couple of hours it was so good to see her again, just a reassuringly normal person in all this surreal madness that is going on around me.

It was difficult for dad but he was subtle about giving us time together before they left, I guess it's the parent-child thing next to the husband and wife thing. I must thank him one day.

Then it was just me and Harry Potter with a bag of giant buttons and a post it note from Wend saying I love you which she had stuck to a magazine she'd bought for me. It's amazing how a little yellow post it note with three small words on it can reduce a lump of yorkshire to tears. 

Settling down for the night was hard, obviously there is the weird surroundings, but I couldn't find the light switch anywhere! Typical isn't it, nice new rooms with all mod cons but no bloody light switch!

About midnight I was aware of someone in the room, not a scene from a thriller movie but a nurse posting a nil by mouth poster on the side of my bed. NIL BY MOUTH! B*llocks. Anyone who knows me will testify that I'm not worth knowing without food. Someone had mentioned it earlier but I'd not really registered it, I guess my head was fairly busy. Next thing I know the lights are off and it was seven in the morning.

"What breakfast do you want love? Cooked English or cereal and toast?" There was no need to tell me about the cooked breakfast it was the smell that had woken me. "Thank you but I'm nil by mouth" the sign was next to the bed and the domestics stood at the door to ask what you wanted so they couldn't see the sign. "Oh sorry love, I'll move that sign for you" from the side of the bed to the end of the bed, now the problem was that the angle of the end of the bed to the door was such that you still couldn't see the flipping thing. "Do you want tea or coffee love?" "I'M NIL BY MOUTH" through gritted teeth, I stopped myself shouting but it was a close run thing. Now my senses were heightened I could smell food and drink everywhere. I brushed my teeth and resisted drinking the water or eating the toothpaste. Everytime I went in the bag Wendy had sorted for me I could smell the giant buttons. I reverted to looking at my magazines as they had the least food content in them.

CT Guided Biopsy part 1

Computed Tomography. Basically it's a big x-ray machine which takes slices through the body and then shows any solids in varying shades of grey. White is bone and then black is a void (Lungs with air in) and the clever peeps at NGH could tell from the shades of grey where there is an abnormality.

A CT guided biopsy is where the very clever people insert a little grabber into the lump and then press a lever. The lever releases the claws and it grabs some of the lump, a biopsy. Now given the position of my lump, just above my heart next to my left lung, the whole idea of shoving a dirty great needle through and hitting the right bit is daunting to say the least.

Now when someone says to me you need to spend the night in hospital, I think buggeration, not going to be with Wend tonight then, hot wards, old people, crap food, no fresh air and sharing a bathroom. Wend on the other hand decides I need some pyjamas, a magazine and maybe some refreshments!

Off to the Northern we go, mum driving with Hart family junior in the car, we decided that the girls should be part of this journey as they are our life. Hadfield is a new block on the site, fresh ideas and fresh design. Blow me down I end up with a private room, private shower and a window that opens! There's artwork on the walls and space, an overiding sense of space, oh and really friendly staff!

I get settled in and the girls pop in to see me, not meant to but we wanted them to see I'd be alright and where I'd be overnight. Them reassured off they went with nanny and played in the courtyard at the front. Wendy stayed a little while but then left to sort the girls tea out and get them to bed and she'd come over later with dad. 

So it's student doctor time and I win one who has hands like they're made of ice, cold's not the word. Anyway he wanted to do a full run through and as far as I'm concerned he needs to learn. He had a great manner about him and as with anyone learning checked and double checked but made notes and was very thorough. It passed an hour or so.

The great thing about being in Hadfield apart from being a private room was the big window out of which I could watch the world go by. It looked so nice that I ventured out and had a walk in the grounds. Having worked at NGH many many moons ago it was weird being back and seeing how different the place was. I was away with my thoughts when a gorgeous harley thundered by, the chrome gleamed in the late afternoon sun and the walls vibrated as the thunder resonated around the buildings. Stuff this, I have way too much I want to do, I want one of those bikes. I want to set car alarms off with the sound of my exhaust (on my motorbike not MY exhaust). I want to ride off into the sunset with my gorgeous wife sat behind me. I have so much to live for I'm not going to let this furball mess with my plans.

Work n wednesday

Going to work the next day was hard, not from a  point of view of physically hard but mentally it was a challenge.

Only a few people had known where I was going and for why, Judith was shocked and upset when I told her. Perhaps it brings back memories of friends or family but it shocked me how someone reacted who I would class as a colleague. The boss was next on the list, he's not one for many words but he was reassuring, sympathetic and humourous upon hearing the news. It was exactly what I needed, it scares me when I think that the one job that I really love could slip away due to ill health, but the conversation was positive without being soppy.

My head of department needed to know, in my mind anyway. Ian is a really nice bloke but he's busy, damn busy so it was catching him early to break the news. It's a sh*t conversation to have with someone as it put's the other person so ill at ease having broken the news to them. Ian like many was shocked and surprised but offered his sympathy and instantly his support. This has made my life so much easier as Ian's support could be as little as a conversation or as much, as would be needed today, to cover for me when I have another emergency phone call.

"You've got to go in this afternoon." "But the CT guided biopsy is tomorrow" "I know but they've phoned up and they want to sign you in and get you to stop overnight" I was glad that we'd agreed that the hospital could get in touch with Wendy, not only did it mean I didn't have any urgent phone calls direct while I was teaching but also it took the edge off the urgency of the call.

Ian was brilliant, "go and see Judith and sort it out with her to get someone to cover the lesson, I'll set the work for you and then you can get off home." It's this sort of thing that I needed and I value, it just takes the pressure off an already busy head.