Closing In

20th December: Closing In

The vomiting and lack of appetite have got worse. I can’t keep any food or water down. I’m heading to hospital in the morning so will try get this dealt with there. I feel like rubbish and am dropped at the doors. I’m meant to be in for a routine blood test before the last Chemo session tomorrow however I soon realise as I step out of the lift I’m in for a lot more. The room spins and I make it to reception stopped by my nutritionist on route I have to find a seat and take in nothing she says to me. I get up and settle in the day area hoping all would settle once I was sat down. One of the nurses comes to see me and starts getting me ready for taking blood. The room closes in my head is light but I can’t hold it up. I get carried \ ushered to a bed and gradually come round. Every doctor available sees me. They all ask if the is anything else unusual, as far as I’m concerned it is all to do with lack of food and water. The only thing I can find for the doctors is a small spot on my left leg; it looks like an insect bite or in growing hair, nothing to be worried about. I am booked into isolation.

The next day I take a look at my leg. It know looks like I have had a football kicked at me as hard as possible and I have a huge red patch round what is now a black scab. What the hell is this?? I’m put on every antibiotic they can get hold of. I’m on a set of 3 drips for 24 hours a day. 1 drip is annoying but 3 is an never-ending beeping. I am sent for various scans to determine the depth and severity of the infection.

Day 3; The rash and black spot have grown again and covers most my thigh. A surgical consultant visits me. He scares the bejesus of me, he starts of by saying “if this infection reaches the muscle it would be a MRSA”. Where had it reached… Luckily not the muscle yet. If it does reach the muscle with the rate it is spreading they may have to consider removing the leg to stop the spread.. Anyway that’s not worth worrying about, as it is the antibiotics have started to put the infection into retreat. The consultant comes back and takes a sample from my leg, after this it is put into a dressing and I don’t see the wound again for a few days. All I know is after he is finished the pain is excruciating. I’m put on a heavy dose of morphine, after this I have no idea where I am and spend most of time talking rubbish.

Christmas Eve to New Year: Happy ?
Still talking rubbish, think I’m in a ski resort in Austria, then think I’m on a train? Christmas day while slightly more conscious of my surroundings still out of it. Christmas postponed. Boxing day to New Year I start to recover but slowly. I spend most of the days sleeping still under heavy painkillers. It goes down as the quietest Christmas and New Year ever, I’m not sure I ever realised it was even New Year. More to celebrate after I’m out