Sorry

It's been a while since my last update and it's not been through lack of wanting to download my head but because my head has been so full of rubbish.

The sorry actually relates to a member of secretarial staff who cocked up an appointment. Not just a chat appointment either it was for me to have my Hickman line fitted, a permanent line that goes from my shoulder into my chest near my heart in one of the veins. This allows medical staff to draw blood or insert medication easily and without using a cannular.

I was stressed about this, mega stressed actually and the fact that the hospital managed to get the dates wrong for me having the insertion just added to it. It's a good job Wendy had come with me as the stress and my dwindling resource of patience had led to a black mood that I was struggling to climb out of. As it happened the hospital sorted it, they found someone to do the insertion, a lot later than planned but on the same day and the procedure went well. The Hickman line is a stiff plastic tube that is inserted into a vein in the neck guided by ultra sound, uncomfortable and scary as the tube pushes on the outside of your throat as it finds it's way down the vein. They then make a pocket just in front of the collar bone under the skin using another hard piece of tubing, apparently easy on old ladies as their skin is less well attached than mine was! Once they have the pocket they push through from the shoulder to the neck using a stiff plastic rod, as this popped out of my neck I could see it in the corner of my eye waggling about. So the easy but painful bit comes then, attach the tube in the neck to the stiff plastic rod and pull it through. Easy because as a process it is simple, painful because as they are pulling the stiff plastic tube through the skin has to stretch for it to bend and travel under the skin to the shoulder. Not the most comfortable thing I've ever had done by a long chalk!

I'm glad I've had it done though as my veins in my arms are increasingly knackered from all the treatment and even seasoned stabbers are struggling to find veins for blood taking. It's also meant that the chemo treatment just gets connected to these tubes sticking out of my shoulder (I have thought about putting a photo on but I don't want to upset delicate constitutions out there!), once connected the chemicals just plod their way on in through the tube and my arms are free from cannulars.

Anyhow as I was waiting in recovery with Wendy a member of the secretarial staff came through and apologised for the mistake admitting it was her fault. That was it black mood gone, just a wave of gratitude sank through me, this woman had had the integrity to come and hold her hands up and say sorry. It was a big thing to do, we're all brilliant at complaining or putting our point forward but there are not many people who can say sorry. A simple little word that meant so much to me.

So that was Monday, Tuesday brought tears and heartache and drugs galore!

The Bounce

Well my amazing ladies did it. They bounced on their space hoppers and raised a stack of money for Cancer charities in Yorkshire. I'm so proud of them they give me so much support, emotionally and physically. They are my reason for life.

Pre-bounce freshness

Lots of flat space hoppers, pumping required.

Carys in full flight, well her hair is anyway.

Post bounce pooped

They bounced for a minute to try to set a record but missed it for some reason but then set a new record for the number of people bouncing a quarter of a mile! Carys bounced the full course and was totally bounced out by the end of it.

I feel incredibly blessed to witness the kindness and generosity of people who have given their time or their money to charities. I have also received gifts from work which are incredibly generous and have given me a massive lump in my throat to think people take time out from their busy lives to think about me. Thank you, it means a massive amount to me.

As a dad and a husband I am the luckiest, yes having cancer is sh*t but I have an incredible family who I absolutely adore and they are a constant reminder of how good life can be.

Hair today gone tomorrow (well today actually)

That's been today and yet all I've done is sit. First I sat in the waiting room for the respiratory lung function test at the Hallamshire. Blow into a machine and keep blowing until you feel a bit odd then blow some more. Then sit in a machine which looks like something Sir Clive Sinclair could have designed and blow then suck then hold then blow some more! The first test looked at my peak flow and the volume I could exhale the second showed how much gas was being passed into my blood stream by my lungs, an efficiency test by all accounts. Both showed I have really good lungs which I'm really pleased about, so my heart is good my lungs are good. Just sort this extra lump in my chest and away we go!

Then I sat and sat and sat some more at Weston park. Not sure why everything took so long this morning but it did and it was a little frustrating but again nothing to get excited about. I had some bloods taken, quite a bit this time, seven vials in all which my battered veins struggled with. They had to use two to get enough blood, mind you the ladies in phlebotomy are amazingly good at getting the red stuff out of you.

The consultation felt like a bit of a blur of information and form signing. It wasn't but it felt like it. It was actually forty minutes of chat about me, how I was doing and what was happening next. Yes we'd waited and waited but then to have forty minutes of a consultants time was better than the health service you hear of. In that time the labs had looked at my bloods and confirmed they were in good shape for the next round of chemo. My head's in a pretty good place too, yes I'm worried about having a line put into my chest but they've done it before and they're experts! I'm worried about the girls going to Wales but it's the best thing for this summer and we're working towards having many more summers so that's how I'm dealing with it. It's a bit like riding up a hill to then have the joy of riding down the other side. The pain will be worth it.

My heads also much more air cooled than before. With the advantage of hindsight I should have hoovered my head before having a shower to save the carnage that was our plug hole. It's a very strange feeling putting hand on head to wash hair just to find most of the aforementioned hair in you hand and sliding down your legs into the bath. It's this loss of hair that get's to Wendy the most I think, it is the visible sign of illness, of the chemical warfare raging in my otherwise pretty bloody healthy body. I look like a thug or a gay biker not sure which. I'll er on the side of thug, personal preferences and all that!

You try hoovering your head and taking a photo!

That's not the half of it!

The weird look is in this summer.

There has to be a big thank you though, Dad offered to take me up to hospital and ferry me and Wend about. Not sure he was over joyed at the eight oclock pick up but then he spent the next four hours waiting for us and taking us here and there. It's special having a dad like that really special and now he has more hair than me...........for now anyway!

Bounce for charity

Wendy and the girls are bouncing on space hoppers for Yorkshire Cancer Research at the weekend and have already raised a huge amount of money but it's be great if we could give them a bit extra.

They have a just giving web page HERE and it gives any information that I've missed!

It still amazes me how much time and effort people put into raising money and awareness, I'd like to say I'll be bouncing at the weekend but as a walk to the coffee shop wiped me out this morning it's unlikely. I'll hopefully get some photos of the bounce and will post them on here.

Thank you ever so much if you decide to donate or even if you have done already.

Pride

Today was aspirations day at the girls school. With the help of a very clever and creative nanny they were a chef and an RSPCA officer. This is what makes me proud, they have ideas and thoughts of their own, neither wanted to be a pop star or a footballer or a footballers wife (heaven forbid). They spent time thinking about it, well George did Carys was pretty set on being a chef from the time it was mentioned and is a wonderful little helper int he kitchen cutting and mixing and adding love to cake recipes.

I love our girls and they make me proud. Money can't buy happiness like that.

Summats happening

Well the hair has started to go anyway. Just started this morning which is good seeing as I had a hair cut the other day! When they asked what I wanted and I said it was all going to fall out anyhow they got the picture. Some people would have left it but my shearer had had a recent scare herself and so we went through all her emotions and how she was quitting smoking and how being positive was the key to all this blah blah blah.

You know sometimes when you want to talk and others when you just want to be silent. I didn't have much option in not talking but I wanted my head to be left alone with it's own thoughts. Oh well it's only three quid for a hair cut there so I wasn't expecting much but hey it got rid of the late 80's bouffant which which sprouting out of the top of my head and going very curly in the process.

I've had a reasonable week all things considered, I'm tired and I get tired easily but I'm able to do bits and have driven the car a couple of times. The sensation of driving is just so freeing, I no longer have the sofa attached to my backside nor do I have the four walls of the house sitting there just watching me, none of this dramatic closing in stuff they're not falling down or anything!

I'm maudling a bit though and getting wrapped up in my body's inability to do what my head wants it to. I don't feel like a very good anything unless you count holding the sofa down. I have to get stuff done and I need to plan my days a little better. I have people to write to and paper work to sort out and and and. But I have an attention span of a year 11 boy, so I need to get my head out of the clouds and into doing stuff.

Anyhow this morning brought good news. After an ECG at the Hallamshire the person doing the scan told us that all the liquid had gone from around my heart. It wasn't unexpected news but it was great news nonetheless, my heart has felt ok for a while now but to have confirmation that all is well is great and it really does mean summats happening.

So one worry down, another to go.......

Naivety got me through last time.

So I'm going with it this time too. When you have an incredible health service as we do they build up a booklet fetish. These booklets are produced by well meaning professionals in order that the patient has time and information and all the answers they want about their own particular procedure or situation. Unfortunately being a bloke I don't read instruction manuals until I'm stuck or have bits left over at the end!

Part of me is also a massive hypochondriac who if I've heard of a symptom will suffer it or will at least think I'm suffering it! So I'm going to stay blind to many of the symptoms and situations and experience them for me for the first time and then probably write about it on here to get it out of my busy head. Naive, yes. Best way of doing it, not sure but as I haven't done this before it's all a bit of a stumble in the dark.

My head is busy with things like the girls going to Wales for the summer. They'll have a fab time with love and laughter and a fair amount of ice cream thrown in. Anita and Jason's place is a home from home for them and is a wonderful house for kids to be in, loads of fun and noise and space to run around in. I'm going to miss them like I can't describe but I can't think about that, they have to keep living and being in Sheffield visiting me looking probably not very well isn't my idea of a fun summer for them. Wendy will have time in Wales and then come back here, again being here if I'm in isolation is going to be less than fun for her. Yes I always feel better when she's in sight, anything is possible while I can be with her and the worries fade away holding her hand but I want her to live too and living doesn't have to be rubbish it should have a balance.

Physically at the moment I don't feel too bad, my skin is a bit of a mess, bit like some of the kids I teach but not too bad. My guts are suffering as is Wendy's nose. I'm noted for being able to clear a room but this is ridiculous! I'm tired too but hey there's a fair amount of rubbish in my body dancing about trying to kill stuff so I have to bear that in mind when the urge to get on my bike starts over riding the lethargy in my legs. When you have been relatively fit and active the need to move can be frustrating to say the very least. My appetite is good and although I'm still on steroids I'm trying not to eat too much as I don't want to fit the fat jeans I ended up in last time. I'm having incredible cravings for Chinese/Thai/Indian food though and went to sleep dreaming about East One in Sheffield and the kedgeree that Wagamama do.

The worst thing for me at the moment is the worry that the treatment isn't doing anything. I can't see inside me, I have no sensation of the lump, I have no reference point to which I could measure any progress. So I sit, I surf the web and watch terrible telly and I wonder. I wonder about what the furball is doing and I hope that it's having a damn good kicking from the bags and bags of drugs they put into me. I wonder if I could reach in and pull the little furball out because to be honest I'd love it out of me now, I'm bored and fed up of being host to chemical warfare.

Any way winge over, we had great news yesterday. Jason's dad has been told he's in remission and has been given the all clear. It's news that cheers the soul to hear that someone has been through it, survived the treatment and is going to make a recovery is brilliant.