Monday remained quiet, watching DVD’s, reading etc. I received some bad news from Prof Marks. The transplant may be delayed 2 weeks, this was later reduced to 1 week. This has the advantage of I can see more of my friends but in truth it is delaying the inevitable. I just want to get on with it. The quicker it starts the quicker I’m potentially cured. I’ve always been told I’m very patient. I may be losing that quality. My CRP counts go up.. the is still an infection. Where? I have developed a hard lump by the bandage on my leg. Prof Marks decides scans are required asap. Visitors come on in leaving me absolutely knackered, I knew about some but not all of them. I was left tired out and once they had left I tried to sleep straight away only for constant drip or change of drugs to wake me. I was actually of my drugs quite early. However someone else on the ward had been given something which sounded brilliant. I was woken by a man in hysteric laughter. This continued for around 10 min. At first it was quite funny but then became quite annoying as it kept me awake. A nurse heading over and I could clearly hear her ask “Mr ???? what is wrong?” to which the reply was “get these ferrets off me they are tickling me!!” The nurse must have caught all the ferrets as he stopped laughing (for awhile).
I only found out today that been in a room in isolation really does isolate you from everything outside the room. I had still considered myself part of the ward. The nurses gossip and you can hear enough to know if it’s busy or quiet. I had distracted myself with the 2nd half of Godfather 2 but on a general observation check up making small talk to the nurse turned out I’d been missing a massive drama on the ward. The entire ward had been quarantined. A case of the Nora virus and C-Deficial (forgive spelling) had been found in the morning. This meant no visitors and more importantly I was not allowed to go for any scans or tests as no one was allowed to leave. Tracing any infection and acting on it would be impossible without leaving the ward.. I’ve been in quarantine for the last month so I can’t have it! I just want a scan done on my leg to see if its infected? Eventually I’m quickly prepared and rushed out of my room for a CT scan. I assume this must have been the infection controls tea break. The CT scan is extremely useful it shows their is something there but the doctors don’t know what it is? They decide to operate, I assume this would be another cut open and take everything out operation. This would mean the scar would be as big as my thigh… that would make a Hippo slightly more believable as it would have had to have been a midget hippo before, I must also learn how to explain this in Spanish.
This carries on to Wednesday and I’m told I’ll be in surgery tonight. Nill by mouth again (going to make up for it with cake tomorrow). I return to ward 62 around 11:30pm I still have antibiotics to go in and after previous experience do not try and eat. The leg is agony I request my painkillers quickly. They arrive around 20 min later I’m not impressed at all. It feels like someone’s taken a hatchet to my leg for all I know that’s what they have done. Its about an hour after I returned, I’m starving 1 hour should be long enough to wait. I attempt some toast. I predictably throw up. I’ve thrown up my painkillers… they won’t reissue them!!!! As I know my parents read this I can’t repeat what my words to the nurse was after I’d thrown up. I had to revert to taking the morphine based painkillers that I’d lost a weekend on around Christmas. Again I had to ask them to up the level for them to affect the pain. I would wake up every hour and half feeling like I’d been stabbed again and the knife was still in my leg.. they would then dose me again and I’d sleep. This carried on from 1:00 am until 7:00am (I think). I started my 28th year on this planet with 4 heavy doses of Morphine. Happy Birthday!!!
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