Archive for October 31, 2010

Today was a bit interesting

So I’ve had 2 OMG’s about the video below. Really? It’s soooo not a big deal or, perhaps, it’s just odd how quickly something becomes so utterly normal that you don’t think about it being otherwise. When I had to go back on the Clexanes yesterday I didn’t want to have to go to the hospital to do it every day, so I just said I’d do it myself. The syringes are sitting here; I’ve seen it dozens of times; it’s not rocket science. So they watched once and then I was good to go. And stop being a baby – they’re seriously, seriously, super-fine needles and I don’t believe anyone who says they hurt… it’s pretty impossible for that to be true. So it’s not a problem. In fact its good to be able to do stuff myself. And I don’t have the every-single-morning-at-the-hospital-with-no-weekends-off any more. Seriously joyous!

Today was a bit interesting: one good thing, one not-so-sure-about thing.

One of my best friends finished a warzone tour and started his journey home today. I think it’s a mixed bag of complete joy to be heading back to his own bed and sadness to be leaving some good friends and, possibly, some of the few who can relate to what he’s seen and done. I’m glad he’s on his way back though. While he was waiting for his transport out, I was having lunch with my dad, stepmum and both brothers which was – again – enlightening…

I’ve eaten out quite a bit over the past couple of weeks – because you’re all fab and know I’ll go nuts if I’m a caged animal – and, while some of the logistics still have to be planned, we haven’t run into a problem. Yesterday, for example, the lovely CG took me to a little bar near our workplace: there was music out front and we sat nearby and shared a platter of yummy stuffs and there were no issues whatsoever. Roll forward to today and the changes were, well, vaguely disturbing to be honest. I’m not entirely sure whether it was having 5 people instead of 2, or the fact the music was louder (and no good!), or that the menu was 15 miles long and all I really wanted was green beans anyway, or that the lack of mobile signal meant I was constantly having to get up to get up and move around to get the transport update from the warzone (and the head’s still a bit weird if it’s not got much support for long). But I got a bit upset about having to choose something from the menu. I think only big bro and my stepmum really noticed though, and it was stalled by the marvellous stepmother who told everyone (nicely) to back off. And I can’t say I was sorry to come home and sleep for very solid 2 hours after. But it kind of wasn’t as fun as it should have been. Which was a bit interesting, and not in a way that I can get too excited about.  I’m assuming that this changes soon.  Well, I know it will now, because as soon as I blog anything it changes!  I guess, perhaps, we’ve done most of the physical bit and now it’s time to push the brain a bit. Mark bought me a puzzle ball thing – see pic below – that everyone who visits becomes obsessed with (yes, Rob, I mean you!). Maybe that’s the shortcut answer to some of this…?!

puzzleball

And finally. I haven’t been sure whether to say this or not, in case it sounds ungrateful, but I think its probably time. A couple of people who are remote have emailed to say it’s nice to be getting to know me better. I’ve been thinking about this and I feel I need to warn you. You aren’t getting to know me, just one slim aspect of my life. And you don’t know quite everything. You didn’t get to know, for example, the day I cried in the loo for 20 minutes because I couldn’t stop my hand bleeding and I knew I’d have to go back into hospital if I couldn’t. That was too much to tell at the time. Or how sad I was for three separate friend’s news and grief when their loved ones died over the past few days. Or how I felt when someone started video-skyping 3 times a day. And perhaps most importantly, you don’t know who matters and who doesn’t, because I feel the need to protect their privacy and, to a great extent, mine too. My name even gets deleted every time anyone accidentally includes it in a comment! So much as I appreciate – really, really appreciate – the huge moral support and the mere fact you can be bothered to read this, if you don’t really know me already, I wouldn’t want you to think this was really me. Like yours, my real life is much more haphazard and boring and interesting and uneventful and complicated and simple than this. This blog really isn’t about the whole me, it’s just the bit about the chick who had the strokes. We both appreciate you very much, but she’s not hanging around forever.

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A video for Kate (!)

:-)  No need to type this one.  Just click play…

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What should I do?

Sorry this is long… but it has a genuine ‘what should I do?’ at the end, so bear with me…

As you know, on Thursday I came across the only medical professional that I’ve found incredibly difficult and rude.  I also suspected she wasn’t very good but I had no evidence of this. I blogged that if my INR dropped again today, I’d tell you the other bit of the story about her. It did, so – unfortunately – I now have evidence. So let me tell you the rest of what happened. Then you can advise me what to do about it.

(If you have no idea what I’m on about, read Seriously naffed off and This Too Will Pass first. But, basically the woman in the anticoag clinic was rude and didn’t listen to me and, I suspected, and now know, did the wrong thing too).

Anyway. My INR today is at 1.7. It needs to be between 2 and 3 to protect me from further strokes from the blood clot that’s still in my neck. Warfarin is the drug that increases one’s INR but everyone is different, so it generally takes 6 days to stabilize the dose. They take blood every day during those days and alter your dose accordingly until it hits and maintains within the therapeutic range. We’ve been working on this for 11 days so far, and I’m still not on a stable dose yet.  While they are doing the stabilising, you also have daily Clexane injections as well. The Clexane keeps your blood thin until the warfarin takes over this job; once you’re stable on warfarin, the Clexanes stop.

This is my personal graph – warfarin is dosage in mg, INR is the level it was at (tho days I didn’t get tested I’ve put in a midpoint to make the graph work (medics will want to know that!)) clexane is 1 if I had it and 0 if I didn’t:

So why am I worried about the nurse. Well, on Thursday I switched from getting my bloods/doses done in ‘trolleys’ (the acute assessment unit where I’ve been going every day) to the anticoagulation clinic. You can read previous posts for nearly all that story. The bit I said I wouldn’t tell you unless my INR dropped is as follows:

When she gave me the warfarin dosage and said I didn’t need the Clexane I questioned it and she said it was fine: I trusted her on this bit – after all, what do I know. However, I wanted to know how we’d know if that was doing the job, seeing as it was Thursday (28 Oct) and I wasn’t going to see her until Tuesday (2 Nov). I’ve been watching this every day and it seemed fairly obvious to me that if she didn’t knock up the dose properly that the INR would drop. I don’t want another stroke – thank you very much – so I asked the question. She said that if I was “that stressed about it we can get you back in to trolleys on Saturday if you want” and I said “well of course I don’t want, I’m asking the question really, if you tell me its fine then Tuesday is fine, I’m just checking you’re sure” and she said, “well I think you’re stressed about it so I’ll bring you in to trolleys again on Saturday”. (See previous note about how she then went on to give me a fatuous lecture on getting on with life (which still makes me mad, what the heck did she think I was doing? If I’d stayed as long as they suggested – i.e. until the warfarin was stable – I’d still be in there now!!!). Anyway, I kind of wanted it checked on Saturday because I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted her, so I shut up.

Anyway the INR dropped.  And because I had no Clexane cover, I had to go back to the hospital for a second time today .  (And getting back is no mean feat in itself, let me tell you!)

The good things to come out of this – and it’s important to note them! – is I got them to let me do the jabs myself, so I don’t have to go in tomorrow because I can do it myself now.  And, I feel safer again knowing someone sensible is on it instead of her.  And, my headaches have gone again this evening, possibly because of the drugs (?!), which is always good.

So… I felt rubbish last night… I felt really rubbish this morning. Which now makes complete sense. Then I had to go back to the hospital for a second time today to fix the issue. I believe this happened because she (a) didn’t listen and (b) didn’t take appropriate measures. I’m not going back to her clinic as, even if there is a problem with my GP taking over, I’ll simply find a way to ensure this doesn’t happen. However I have a quandary. I know I can’t do nothing, because there are stroked out 80 year olds – and, actually people my age who didn’t come out of it as well as I did – who are relying on her and not up to questioning what she’s doing.

(Heck, I was only questioning because she wouldn’t let me write things down in a way I could understand and kept snatching my yellow (anticoag record) book away so she could write down her version (Me: Are you going to keep snatching it like that? Her: Yes Me: We’re going to have to think about a system if this is going to work. Maybe you could write in a spare book so you have your own and I’ll bring it with me every time for you, and I can keep this one I’ve had for 2 weeks. Her: No, you can transcribe what you want but I’m going to do this as I want it to flow. Seriously. She had about 50 yellow books there: she could have done anything she liked; all I wanted was control of my own bloody book that Duncan had given me and I’d been keeping with the trolleys people.  It’s the only way I know to keep track of what’s going on. She was actually rather lucky she upset me and I was trying not to let her see I just wanted to cry, else she’d have gotten it with both barrels.))

Anyway. Bottom line. Her dosage was incorrect. And she stopped the Clexane which would have provided cover til I was back in range. If I hadn’t had made a fuss I would not have found out that my INR was out of range until Tuesday, by which time it would have been far lower; no one would have upped my dose (which they did today); there was no Clexane protecting me in the meantime (which there is now). Basically, I could have had another stroke or three.

With the strokes I had there is a 10% chance of death and a more significant chance of proper damage (which I got away with last time). At the very least I’d be in hospital all over again and starting from scratch. I’m ok, and this isn’t going to happen to me because, even in a mildly dazed state (which in hindsight I was) I was pushy enough to question her and take responsibility for my own care. The more stroked out can’t do this. Hell, some days I can’t do it.

I don’t think this woman should be working unsupervised. I don’t want to make trouble – not least because I’m in this system for another 6 months and I don’t think I’ll get a good run of it if they think I make trouble – but, basically, I think she doesn’t listen and is dangerous as a result. If she worked for me, she’d be removed from post immediately and not be allowed to work unsupervised until she’d had further training and been signed off as competent.

In most situations I’d take the problem to the person involved. That is still an option. I could write a letter to her and take it to her at the next clinic. But I won’t know til the day if it’s a day where I’m up to it.

So… what should I do?

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Bite me alien boy

Yep, thought that might get your attention.

Claudia sent me a link to an even better Comic Relief/Catherine Tate sketch.  If you like it too then do chuck some dosh their way at end November.

Claudia also says i made complete sense to her last week and had no such problem with sentences.  Cannot be bovvered to tackle this with source!

Crashingly tired today so going back to sleep for a while to gear up for the escape this afternoon (thanks CG!).  My poor new flatmate moved in today and I’m not helping her unpack or anything… Putting up with the few weeks coming up on my part weren’t part of the deal when she decided to come and live here!!  Sorry E!

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Bovvered?

I’m tired and I feel like I should be frustrated, but I can’t quite be bothered with the frustrated part.  People keep telling me to sleep more.  I’m not going to argue the point.  It’s not worth the effort.

I was thinking last night that it’s actually quite hard to work out what I can’t do because I’m not doing it.

I’d no idea I couldn’t cross the road until I got to a road and looked at it (I can mostly do it now, and it could have been worse, e.g. if I hadn’t known!).  I’ve no idea if I can properly read a book now because I’m not doing it.  I have no idea if I can watch a DVD from start to end because I’m not doing it.  I have no idea if I can actually walk to my brunch place, have brunch and get back because… you get the idea.

In the same way I turned on the TV one day because I wondered what was on the news, I’ll just do the other stuff when my brain is ready to do it.  Apparently. But it’s been 18 days, so I’m working through a mix of being told not to push it, ‘can’t be bothered’, ‘really can’t be bothered’ and ‘bored’.  I’ve pushed quite a few things, basically all the physical stuff, and it’s paid off.  But the mental stuff… well, I’m starting to feel like I’m being lazy but, if we’re being honest, I’m not yet fussed about doing anything about it.  Weird?  Yeah. Well. Welcome to my world.

Apparently last week I kept stopping what I was saying in the middle of sentences.  (“We weren’t stressed about it because you weren’t stressed about it”. Well, no, because I didn’t know I was doing it, did I.  What else aren’t you telling me?) But that isn’t happening this week.  I assume.  Since you decided to tell me that it happened last week.  So I guess all these things just fix themselves as we go along.  It’d be interesting, if I could be bothered to think about it,

Anyway. I think this is the first time I’m wondering why I’m bothering with most things.  Not in a bad way.  I’m not stressed or worried about it.  Just, I suppose, aware that it should probably change.  You know… when I can be bothered.

Got to go to the hospital for bloods this morning.  Will do, of course.  (Tho  can’t really be bothered!)  I think I’d like to see that Catherine Tate clip with Tony Blair again, now I thnk about it. Let me see if I can find it.  Hmm found it.  Here you go.  Love this:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvukPc2fIX8&fs=1&hl=en_US]

Again….  my new mantra… who knew.

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Your smile makes me smile

:-)   :-)   :-)   :-)   :-)   :-)

I may have got round the problem of the anticoag woman at Hospital Number 3 via my GP’s receptionist today. (As opposed to the unhelpful one yesterday: Her: “No we haven’t got any GP appointments until Friday week.” Me: “I had a stroke a couple of weeks ago; does that make any difference?”  Her: “No.”  Me: “Ok, can I book to see a practice nurse.”  Her: “Well they aren’t available until after that”. Me “Shall I go to A&E with my non-emergency then?” (No, I didn’t mean it!!)  Her: “Ok.”) .  Anyway, I tried again this morning and this one said, “You can see the GP that specialises in warfarin first thing on Monday, is that ok?” Is it ok? Yes, please!!! Because potentially this means I can call up nightmare anticoag woman on Monday afternoon and tell her she has a free slot on Tuesday.  Hmm. If at first you don’t succeed, ignore the utterly unhelpful receptionist and seek out the good one. So now I just have to make sure the GP is nice and chilled about the CADISS thing. Easy…!(?!)

I got my face back today.  Though it’s looked normal all along, the left half has been numb, to varying degrees, since this all started on 11 Oct (18 days!!!).  It’s slowly reduced but this morning I got it back properly.  The left half of my lips are still a bit tingly but the rest is mine again!!!  (Hmm, as I type I realise it’s a bit more numb again, but we’re talking in a majorly minor way, if that makes sense!!)

So I have my face back, I can walk, if a little more slowly than usual, and…. hmm… there is one more significant thing that I had to re-learn, but I’m not ready to blog that one yet!  Anyway, I admit I’m tired and can usually feel my head, but generally it’s all good; particularly if I can use my GP, which is literally round the corner, instead of the hospital for the whole bloods bit.

Speaking of which, I’m back to the vampire palace tomorrow morning for bloods, so we shall see what the old INR is doing with itself.  After that, assuming the GP comes through, I won’t need to go back to the hospital again until the stroke clinic.  I think I’ll actually miss the people in trolleys (where it’s done).  I’ve been there nearly every day as an outpatient, so they’ve always known me as someone who just pops in every day rather than having the ‘proper-patient’ mentality about the whole thing.  And they’re always really nice.  They listen as well as speak so I always know what’s going on, and I get to tease the docs about their rubbish blood taking skills and demand Alaha or the charge nurse who’s name I can’t remember (Mark, perhaps?) instead.  And when the haematologists forget to call me  in the afternoon with results and corresponding dose changes, which is about 50% of the time, I just call trolleys and they chase them up or get whichever doc is there to do it for me themselves. So it always feels like a solid place to know and be.

All the naff smilies in this post represent my smiles today.  For the prayers among you – thank you… I think I’m on the road to cracking the bloods thing and my friend (number 3 below) has had already gotten a brilliant helping hand through the bumps this afternoon.  I have the print shown above (“your smile makes me smile“) on my stairs and today this is proved, once again, to be true.

:-)   :-)   :-)   :-)   :-)   :-)

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Olives, FAQs and prayer requests

I don’t like olives any more.  I used to love them, now I don’t care for them at all.  How entirely odd this all is.

I’m on a ‘reduce the questions’ mission again.  I honestly don’t mind them at all, particularly as I haven’t thought to ask quite a lot of them which is, admittedly, unlike me at full speed (see above).  But the same questions pop up over and again so forgive me for making this easy: I’ve added a Links/FAQ page – you can see the link to it at the top of the screen now.

I know this next paragraph will cause me a few problems so I’ll be quick.  And I’d like to relay the key message from one of the nicest texts from last week, which said that taking control of one’s own recovery is the best way to speed it up. It’s worked so far, so please bear that in mind.  The community POT called yesterday to make an appointment for next week.  I said she was welcome to pop in but I’m really ok.  She said if I can get around then I don’t need them as that’s all they do.  So we left it at that.  I have their phone number if anything changes. If you’re not happy about this – yes, I know who you are! – I can give it to you instead, if you’d like.  The stroke clinic is the one we’re really waiting for: that’s the one where we start talking through timescales.  I saw Dr D in passing yesterday and he’s chasing up when that’s happening.

So prayer requests for today, just for those of you who are that way inclined: (1) It would be fab if my GP surgery would actually talk to me and arrange to get me in their warfarin clinic asap so I don’t have to communicate with the nightmare from yesterday ever again;  (2) My friend Kate is doing all the key bits of the work I usually do, as well as her own.  She’s bloody marvellous at it and I know she’s utterly capable, but there’s a lot on, so can we look after her please; (3) One of my best friends is having a really horrible time.  He’s going to get through it but he’s not in a good place right at this exact moment. Would be great to pray for him too.  Just call him my friend: I’m 100% sure the big guy will know who you mean.  Thanks!!!

[Edit: add one more please: my friend’s dad died on Wednesday night.  It was expected, but still a huge shock and loss for them. I don’t want to announce someone else’s grief, so let’s call her Mary: again, he’ll know who you mean.]

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This too will pass…

For all the wrong reasons, today hasn’t been about me.  Finally! And for all the wrong reasons, it’s been nice to feel useful again.  I can’t really explain any more without going into things that are not mine to tell.  (And the sad thing is that I think there are 3 people that will think I am talking about them today but, unless you’re 1000% convinced that I’m talking about  you, I’m not!)  But that hope thing that I mentioned before… keep hold of it, please.   Lucie and I have a saying, “this too will pass”.  It’s a mantra that always comes true.  Every single time.

The bit that was about me was the hospital.  The daily people in the morning were ace, as usual.  (If you need blood taken at Hospital Number 3, ask for Alaha, and don’t settle for anyone else if she’s there: she can do it without you even noticing, and gets it first time, every time). The afternoon, however… well, I already blogged that… I’ve not been that annoyed and upset with someone in a very long time, and I’m not feeling the need to revisit it, though I do need to find a way around it before Tuesday.   (Grrr.   Among the many things, – oh dear, I’m revisiting – she said, in response to a genuine “why do you think…” question, “I’ve been doing this for 5 years”; and me replying, “well, I’ve only been at it for 2 weeks so maybe you could give me a chance to catch up”, when I asked another question on how we were going to manage the fact my INR just dropped below the required threshold – see below – she gave me a lecture on how I “need to get on with life because you never know what might happen”.  Seriously??!?  You’re telling me that???!! Seriously??!!!  I was polite.  I swear I was polite.  I saved all the swearing for the blog below.  OK, I’ll stop now.  We’re so getting rid of her.   Somehow.)

So. My NRI dropped below its ‘therapeutic range’ today.   A normal NRI is about 1.  Mine needs to be between 2-3 in order to make the clot in my neck weak enough that it can’t do any more damage.  On Tuesday it was up to 2.8 so they downed the warfarin dose from 9mg to the more desirable 5mg.  Today my NRI was down to 1.9.  So they gave me a clexane jab for today, and upped the dose to 6mg/5mg on alternate days.  I get tomorrow off and go back on Saturday morning to retest/re-dose.  Today is the first time I’ve really thought about the fact that if they don’t get the dose right…. well, I’ve already got away with three strokes, I’ve no desire to play Russian roulette with a fourth.  I suspect the warfarin will go up again on Saturday.  If it does I’ll tell you one more thing about the woman above that we’re getting rid of….

mine clexane's 100ml but could only find pic of 80...

For those of you who sent questions…! As some of you know I had some scans a couple of summers ago after I had an issue that, annoyingly, came to a head with me falling over while in Eygpt with Perry.  When we got back there were blood tests and ultrasounds and ‘no cause’ found and it was all quickly forgotten.  But I asked the question today about whether the blood issues from then could possibly be related to the clot from the tear now.  I.e. could there be an underlying issue that my blood is a little too prone to clotting in response to trauma?

Turns out that Dr Duncan (I can’t remember his surname) has already written up that I should have a thrombophilia test when I come off the warfarin.  Interesting.  Perhaps.  Annoying, as it’s 6 months (ish) before we can do the test to find out (after I’m off the drugs). I’m therefore hoping that I’m barking up totally the wrong tree on this one.

Oh.  And you can tell things are getting a bit more normal: for the first time today I was wondering how I could pop into work during a significant two-day event that’s likely to happen next week. I know I’ll get shot for thinking it but… well, it’s my job…  and wouldn’t it be worse if I didn’t care at all?!

[Edit: just found out my GP definitely does a warfarin clinic… so I just need to get into that to get rid of that woman from my world!]

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Seriously naffed off…

Seems like the next thing is working out how to change anti-coag/hemo clinics, seeing as the woman who thinks she’s doing mine for the next six months is the bitch from hell.  Hmm.  Well, its not like she’s going to read this.  Treat me like a stroked out 80 year old or a child and, seriously, we are not going to get on.  I explained this once.  I explained it twice. You don’t get a third go.  Not in the same 10 minutes.

I didn’t cry while I was in there, but there was serious danger of that happening several times on the way home.  Am seriously and properly f**cked off (Rob, if you know what the stars stand for, you’re old enough to hear it, tell Papa I said so when he moans.) The problem is I went straight to my GP and they can’t see me until next week, and I need to figure out to get this one sorted well before then.  In the space of a day the system has gone from flawless to seriously screwed.  Sooooooooooo  fing annoyed.

p.s. Libby – thanks for the emerg supply of tins of pre-mixed gin and tonics.  First one just cracked.  xx

[Edit:  Hmm. I have private health insurance… maybe THIS is what its for….]

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Hope, Vampires and Q&A opp

Last night I mentioned hope and how it’s my favourite word.  It came up because of my friend who made (finally, well done!!!!) a very exciting, life-changing decision, and we were talking about hope being the thing that drastically improves our perspective/mood/feelings about things, way quicker than any actual changes can usually be made. It’s been my favourite word for a long time.  Those who know my house know there are things that say ‘hope’ all over the living room and, if you don’t, there’s a picture below.  It’s one of those words we all need.  As the kid of a manic depressive I can tell you it would’ve changed a lot of things for her.  As a grown up, when we’re feeling a little bit lost, we just need to find some.  Happiness is always going to feel elusive unless you’ve already got it. But hope, well, I think we can always find a way to find just a little bit of that someway, somehow; that’s within your own gift.  And it changes everything.   Hmmm.  This just got a little too philosophical for my liking!

hope

Today is the long haul trip back to Hospital Number 3, a.k.a. the vampire palace. I’m hoping not to make such a mess this time. Even with the smallest needles, even if they’re pressing on the site, the needle they just took out drips, so, invariably, the chair and I get covered. I must remember to ask for a towel instead today! Anyway, this morning will be spent with the minor vampires (i.e. daily routine stuff), afternoon with hematologist (i.e. the serious vampire).  Yay. Not.  So… if you’re one of those people asking all  those blood/warfarin/drug related questions that are way ahead of what I can be fussed with, send them now, by sms, and I’ll get the answers for you by return.  Probably.

:-)

I’m starting to tell other friends what’ going on now.  Work friends knew more or less straight away because that’s where it happened (though Kate did a marvelous job of keeping it quiet for a day or two when I assumed it was all going to be fixed in a day and didn’t want a fuss: sorry and thanks Kate).  Then the immediate family; which in my case includes a bunch of friends and a couple of cousins, and then word travelled along, as it does.  But I’ve not done the ‘tell everyone everything’ bit. It’s never been my style and, also, this particular ‘guess what happened the other week’ has an answer that now sounds, to others, far more dramatic than it actually is.  I know the first week was scary for anyone who was there  – sorry!!!! (and I don’t include me in that – I only caught up with the scary ‘could have’ statistics a few days ago) but for anyone else, it’s actually a far more placid tale.

((((For anyone who’s only just joined and is about to give me a hard time for not telling you earlier: please read on. Everyone else, please skip to these brackets and go to final paragraph! I’ve been told off several times and I’m soooo sorry, but it’s starting to get boring saying that. Life got busy, first in an ICU and then with walking and stuff, and you didn’t need to know right then.   Obviously I’m going to mince my words more in person, but the bottom line is, please forgive me and get over it and pop over for cupcakes.  Or chocolate.  Or any number of lovely things that will blimp me out if I eat them all without you.  This is a rapidly changing good news story, and it’s hard for me to keep up, let alone anyone else. I remember saying to the consultant on Day 4: “Ok, I keep thinking that next time I wake up everything will be back to normal, but I’m getting the hint that no one else thinks this.  What’s the deal here?“ and being given the answer, “Well it might.”.  (And, for the record, in hindsight, that answer really naffs me off.)  But it turns out I wasn’t that wrong.  This happened 2.5 weeks ago, I’ve been home1.5 weeks – which is not the normal thing so we’re all amazed – the drugs may almost have stabilized (we find out properly today) and I look and sound normal again.  Yes, I’m knackered, yes my aim is occasionally out, yes I wobble in the dark, and yes it takes me longer to walk than usual (which, :-) Benj, means I’m at your speed instead of mine now) but basically this is a good news story where the could-haves did not so it’s easier to tell now.  Ok????!!!!)))

Of course, the thing now – which is fab – is it all seems like it happened a century ago and like the scary ‘could-haves’ happened to someone else.  Which means I can totally relate to emails from my ace friends like the one yesterday that started like this:  “It all seems like a bit of a far fetched story – the kind of tale you read about on the internet that happened to a friend of a friend of a friend but not to anyone you actually know.” Quite, RJ, quite!!!!

 

 

p.s. I know you didn’t skip those brackets … you do know you’re still not going to get away with things like that in person, right?!

 

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