247. April Fool

Yesterday, I was under the care of Mr Bean for 6 hours.

It started with my second shingles jab on Thursday. The nurse told me it would be easier this time. Why do I always fall for these platitudes? Within 6 hours, I had rigors and a raging temperature. Well, it felt like it. I was getting different temperature readings from the two thermometers (you may recall a faulty thermometer led to neutropoenic sepsis last time round) and it reached 38.4. You have to contact the emergency oncology bleeper at 38C. I decided that a) I knew the cause  b) it was 2 am and c) my emergency night driver had been celebrating her birthday so I didn't want to disturb her, 

I knew the cause, I decided to set the alarm and take my temperature every three hours. It hovered around 37.5. I dutifully did a LFT before going to the hospital and off we drove, confident I didn’t have covid, just the effects of the jab. Unfortunately, the hospital’s thermometer read differently. 38 in one ear, 38.2 in the other. I was whisked off to an icily air-conditioned room (with Dennis for company) while they awaited an empty room up in the emergency ward.

I was under the care of a very experienced nurse (he looked older than me!) and that’s where it all began. Instead of laying out everything he needed in the right order, her emptied them all in a heap on the trolley. He couldn’t find x so off he went to get another. Then he dropped the syringe on the floor. Off he went again. I warned him about my chemo-warped veins but he was confident he’d manage. I have a rather large lump and bruise to prove him wrong. Meantime, in his determination to get the cannula in he shed more of my blood than I’ve ever seen, all through the gauze, dripping off the pillow onto the floor.

That needed to be cleaned up then he started again, using my inner elbow, which I’d asked him to avoid because you can’t move your arm without disturbing the needle and it hurts like hell. He got the needle in but couldn’t find any blood (that’s how f**ked my veins are), Then the needle wobbled and slipped out - onto the floor because he was busy searching for something else. Off he went for another needle/cannula while I applied pressure to halt the blood flow - plenty there, just inaccessible to a cannula.

Eventually he got me cannulated, extracted enough blood for all the tests (two medium test tubes - I can’t spare it. Why couldn’t he catch the drips and squeeze out the gauze!!). He then pumped me full of penicillin and attached the cannula to an 8-hour drip. Fortunately Dennis had gone outside or I think he’d have had to be resuscitated! Off went H for a jug for me to pee into (he brought it several hours later, by which time a staff nurse brought one). Ever tried peeing into a jug balanced on your lowered clothing, with only one free hand?? I was so desperate not to spill it, I used my two hands and caused a backflow of blood into the drip tube. Never seen that before. In the meantime, another nurse fixed the drip H hadn’t fitted properly - half of it was dripping onto the floor! She then proceeded to squeeze my blood back into me!!

Dr U came and sat on the bed to do my consultation. Apart from remonstrating with me for not going in the previous night, he explained that he was being extra cautious because I’d had sepsis before. The plan was to move me to a room in the emergency ward but, thank the lord, none was available. So Dennis and I froze for 6 hours, then we were told the blood results were good, all my vitals scored zero so I was safe to go home, but with a 5-day course of antibiotic, another 45 minutes waiting.

I struggle swallowing tablets so they prescribed the oral suspension. I can only describe it by saying it smells of public conveniences and probably tastes like the disinfectant they use! BUT it’s worked and today I feel better than I have in ages. That may be because Dr U has given me an extra week off chemo to improve my immunity. It feels amazing, like I’ve had this massive reprieve - all of 7 days!

So that’s how I spend April Fools Day. When H fist-bumped Dennis (I truly expected D to refuse) and said he’d see me again, I just prayed not. Lovely bloke, completely inept. Meantime, Dr U has requested my quarterly CT scan and another blessed MRI to see what’s happening with the tumour. I suspect it will show continued progression cos I can feel it on my eyelid. What I fear is that it may be growing in other directions. Heigh ho!.

Does anyone know how to get a reliable thermometer?