Tag: Hospital

Bobs Bowel 13 – Chemo !!!


It’s 19th May, 2025 and I have an appointment with an oncologist. This is to discuss potential precautionary chemotherapy following my hemicolonectomy at the end of March.

I am introduced to Dr Mutheramalingam, known as Dr Ram.

He seems to have done his homework, as he tells me all about the various conditions that I am receiving treatment or surveillance for, including Prostate Cancer, Type 2 Diabetes, and possible Non-Alcoholic Fatty Liver Disease (NAFLD). And, of course, not to forget the main event, T3 N1b Colorectal adenocarcinoma, the reason I am in his office.

Dr Ram procedes to explain the situation i.e. the positive results of the surgery and that the scan prior to surgery had not shown any signs of cancer elsewhere.

Interestingly, he mentions that the lesion on my lung seems to have disappeared. This lesion was strongly suspected to be Prostate Cancer, and is the reason I have been on course of regular Prostap injections. We discussed the possibility of my no longer needing the injections but he wanted to defer that discussion to my Urology consultant.

Dr Ram then went on to describe my chemotherapy options, which appear to one of two.

  • Option 1:
    Combined tablet and chemo infusion over a period of three months
    This option comes with a range of potential side effects which also include damage to my liver which is already under surveilance due to the NAFLD.
    This treatment offers a potential 12% increase in my survival prognosis.
    The chemo infusion would be administered at the hospital and therefore require multiple trips to the Queen Alexandra hospital, parking fees, and the time spent during the infusion.
  • Option 2:
    Tablet only treatment over a period of six months
    This option also carries the full range of potential side effects with only a 10% increase in my survival prognosis.
    The tablets would be self administered at home,each two week cycle being 4 tablets twice a day, followed by one weeks rest. During the weeks rest I would have a blood test and a telephone consult prior to starting the next cycle.

It seemed to me that option 1 only giving an additional 2% and also introducing the risk of liver damage was not a good deal. Also, the regular visits to hospital for the chemo infusion was not very appealing, given the many medical appointments I have had since diagnosis of the tumour.

I have therefore opted for option 2, the self administed tablet only chemotherapy.

Bearing in mind the positive results from the surgery we, the medics and me, don’t know for sure if I have any cancer in my body. This chemo, being precautionary, may not actually buy me any more time.

Since that initial oncology meeting I have started the chemotherapy regime having been prescribed Capecitabine. I have just completed my third cycle.

Capecitabine comes with a whole range of potential side effects which include the following:
Appetite loss, Diarrhea, Vomiting, Nausea, Stomatitis, Abdominal pain, Fatigue, Weakness, Hand-foot syndrome, Oedema, Fever, Pain, Headache, Hair loss, Dermatitis, Indigestion, Shortness of breath, Eye irritation, and Myelosuppression.

So far, after nine weeks, I am only experiencing fatigue which manifests itself by me dropping off into a deep sleep with little or no warning, usually when sitting quietly reading of watching the TV. Thankfully, this does not happen while I am actively involved in something.

In the first week or so I did notice, thanks to my smart watch, that my heart rate was spiking quite high. That is I was hitting over 130 beats per minute with no apparent cause whereas prior to commencing the chemo it was rare for my heart rate to go over 80 bpm. I contacted the oncology department and they told me it was probably my body getting used to the chemo. Certainly, the spiking has reduced, both in frequency and magnitude.

So here I am, cycle three completed. What now?

Well, due to a family issue I have had to travel and will be away from the UK for three months. This means that continuing with the chemo is problematic. Because of the type of drug that Capecitabine is and the need for regular blood tests, they cannot prescribe sufficient doses in advance for me to continue the regime.

Apparently taking a short break from the chemo is OK but two to three months may be too long for me to restart when I am back in the UK.

So I am exploring getting access to the local medicare here in Australian so that I can then see a doctor and hopefully get prescriptions for Capecitabine and also the requisite blood tests. There is a reciprocal health insurance arrangement between the UK and Australia but this might just be too complicated to manage.

I have applied to join Medicare and I am hoping that having been previously been accepted it will be pretty much a rubber stamp exercise.

We shall see!

Bobs Bowel 11


So here we all are, on the other side. I survived the procedure. I guess that I should apologise for leaving you all hanging. Since leaving hospital I have had a few things going on with friends and family. And, keeping a blog going does require a degree of concentration and effort. Of which I have had none.

My procedure, I am very pleased to say went well, took place on Monday 31st March. Originally estimated to take 4 – 4.5 hours, actually  took six hours. On regaining conciousness, in the recovery room,  I was given two pieces of news.

Firstly, that they, the surgical team, had taken more than was originally planned. Originally, I was supposed to be having a “left hemicolectomy” but in the end I had an “extended right hemicolectomy”.

Secondly, a bit of very welcome news, was that I did not have a stoma and therefore would not be having to deal with a colostomy bag.

The Hospital Stay

After a brief sojourn in the recovery room I was wheeled along to ICU to spend my first night in hospital. But before I could contemplate sleep I was given a full body bed bath. That was a first for me.

I was also starving, not having eaten since Sunday evening, the day before. But at this time I was restricted to clear fluids.

How noisy are hospitals ? Staff banging cupboard doors, clattering of trolleys and trays and let’s not forget talking at elevated levels. At one stage there was a guy strutting the length of the ward, and back again, speaking into a phone which he held away from his face.

Don’t they realise there are sick people in ICU, trying to rest and recover ?

1st April – Operation Day +1

At around 10:30 the staff in ICU got me out of bed, had me sitting in a chair and brought me stuff to have a wash. To be fair I didn’t stay in that chair for long. It was too upright, not very comfy, made my back ache and my tummy was a bit sore.

But there was a nice view away to the south and west looking out over Portchester, the Isle of Wight and down to Southampton Water. All with blue skies and sunshine.

Still no food, just clear fluids, black tea, black coffee,  water !!! and I’m starving.

Later, on the evening of the same day, they moved me out of ICU and shipped me off to the surgical ward. Sharing the ward with six other inmates and no view.

If I thought ICU was noisy, they had nothing on this ward. I couldn’t see what it was but there was something at the far end of the ward making a sound like a diesel truck on a fast idle. Thankfully after about thirty minutes it stopped. Rumour has it that the noise was from an air bed being inflated !!!

Apart from the noise, another issue I had was the temperature of the ward. On arrival I broke into a sweat and I know, when at home, I  break out at around 25°C. One of the nurses very kindly brought me a fan which improved things but, under cover of darkness, someone snuck in and turned it off.

How Rude!

2nd April – Operation Day +2

A nurse brought me a bowl of warm water for a wash and a change of gown. Ablutions completed I tried to put on the fresh gown which was way to small. When I flagged the size issue I was told that they had no gowns my size and offered me a “shirt”, i.e. an NHS pyjama jacket which was even smaller. The nurse said she would order a larger gown.

Order ? How long was that gonna take?

Anyway, thankfully, someone turned up with a large gown. I should point out that I did have my own pyjamas but due to the various tubes attached about my person there was no way I could get into them. At this time I was catheterised and also having a saline drip.

Time in hospital can pass very slowly. I had prepared for this by bringing in a book to read, also a book of crossword puzzles. I also had my phone on which I do soduku and read via Kindle. The problem was that I couldn’t focus on anything. In fact trying to focus took so much effort I kept dozing.

I had a very pleasant visit from my granddaughter in the morning and, later, my wife and daughter arrived to break up the afternoon.

At last, I was told I could have something to eat. My first meal for three days was a supper of chicken soup, yoghurt, jelly, and vanilla ice cream. Not very substantial but you would not believe how good that chicken soup tasted.

Throughout the day, with each and every visit from a nurse or doctor, I was constantly asked if I have moved my bowels, or if I  have broken wind. At this time my answers were all in the negative.

After supper I was asked what I wanted for brekky. Options were orange juice and/or yoghurt. I opted for the yoghurt.

3rd April – Operation Day +3

I had a visit from the surgeon.  Nice guy. He introduced himself and I promptly forgot his name. He said he wanted to try me on real food, with more substance. He also said they were planning to remove the catheter… yay!! Also, there was mention of the possibility of me going home, either today or tomorrow. This is all sounding good. All of this was discussed while he tapped, squeezed, and generally fondled my belly. Oh, I didn’t mention the gaggle of other medics, around half a dozen, gathered around the foot of my bed. Any privacy or dignity I had rapidly flew out the window.

I was given some of my own daily blood pressure meds. I’ve not had any since before the op. I was also given a dose of liquid paracetamol.  It is thick in texture, very sweet and it tastes of strawberries, Yuuukkk !!!

I don’t remember lunch but supper was Pea Soup with an awful bread roll.  Think the roll was made without any fat, it fell apart when I tried to cut it so that I could butter it. Tried eating it but it just clagged up my mouth. There was also an egg mayo sandwich. I only ate half as it was on some strange, strongly flavoured, malted bread, and again a weird texture. I tried dunking it in the soup but it didn’t help. Obviously my tastebuds had become confused. Hospital food isn’t really that bad. or is it?

During the day I have been getting an acidic feeling at the back of my throat, like indigestion. I mentioned this to a nurse who got me some Gaviscon. It helped a bit.

4th April – Operation Day +4

Bad news, I’ve been sick!! I was told that if I  am sick twice in the day I will be aspirated i.e. have a tube put up my nose and down into my stomach. This sounds unpleasant, and definitely something to be avoided.

Now they are taking bloods to see if I have an infection, and are concerned about the low volume pee. So, I definitely won’t be going home today.

Supper time arrives and I was feeling sick and requested another anti-sickness pill. Supper was chicken soup but I don’t recall eating it.

Even though I’m just drinking water it seems to be sitting high in my tummy. I’m not feeling comfortable at all.

5th April – Operation Day +5

So, I was sick during the night and as a result I was intubated. That was not a pleasant experience. As the tube goes in it causes you to retch and then once inserted you can feel the tube in your throat every time you swallow. The nurse siphoned out nearly a litre of dark green fluid. It appears that my vomiting is due to Ileus, a not uncommon post operative complication after abdominal surgery. In essence the bowel goes on strike

So now I have two bags hanging on the side of the bed. One for  my catheter and one for my nasal tube. I also have a saline drip attached to the cannula in my right arm. It’s almost like being at the centre of a spiders web.

While the tube is in I am nil by mouth,  just sips of water. So back to my starvation diet.

6th April – Operation Day +6

Due to all my attachments I had to call for the commode last night. And, whilst sat on the commode,  my nasal tube took it upon itself to sneak out and fall on the floor. I buzzed for the nurse who got a fresh tube and installed it which again caused me to retch and vomit. Just wonderful. That was at 03:00.

During the day they disconnected my nasal tube from its bag and told me I could go on free fluids. So I had an ice cold glass of milk, and boy did that hit the spot. The milk was, later,  followed by a cup of hot chocolate.

I was told that I can stay on free fluids but they will reconnect the tube to the bag at night time. Some good news, it was confirmed that Bovril is allowed under the free fluids plan so have asked Gerry to bring some in.

Bad news, the blood tests have shown some negative markers, and so, they think I might have developed an infection. Therefore, as a precaution, I have been moved to my own room. Bonus, I have my own window with a view and can open said window, so plenty of fresh air.

In the early evening I had a lovely video call  from my granddaughter and her kids. Jax, who is autistic, saw my nasal tube and immediately wanted to know what it was. We told him I was in hospital. His response was “go get Grandad, bring him home” Unseen by me, Jax trotted off downstairs, let himself out the front door and was trying to get into his mums car. Their dog, Milo, alerted my daughter and she caught him outside. Cute.

7th April – Operation Day +7

Thankfully the nasal tube has been removed and so, it appears, I’m back on the free fluids diet which is some kind of progress. Lunch today was tomato soup, orange jelly, and vanilla ice cream, bliss!!!

In the afternoon, friends, Eric, Mary, and Mo visited for a couple of hours. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Eric and Mary left after an hour which left Mo to entertain me. Unfortunate for Mo, she was soon treated to the sight of me sliding out of bed clutching the back of my gown, carrying my bag of urine (golden handbag) and shuffling across the corridor to the loo. She took it all in good heart.

Todays supper treat was mushroom soup, more jelly, and ice cream. The soup was, once again, very tasty.

After Mo’s departure and having nothing better to do, I read the ingredient list for the orange jelly. Shock, horror, there is no orange in it. There is carotene, I assume that’s for the colour. I had thought that the flavour was a little odd, now I know why.

8th April – Operation Day +8

Finally, I got a decent night’s sleep, the first since the surgery. Also, my tummy is feeling less bloated which, I guess, means some of the gas used during the operation is beginning to dissipate.

Brekky today was rice crispies, orange juice, toast, and marmalade. Actually, to call it toast was a bit of an exaggeration. I think the slice of bread had seen a photo of a toaster but not actually been in one. Still, after being starved and then only getting liquids to eat this was definitely a step up and in the right direction.

After breakfast I was asked to select my lunch, so I chose Beef Lasagne,  scallop potatoes and gravy. More solids … yes!!!

The lasagne was blooming marvellous although, surprisingly, I had to confirm that it was beef, to me it tasted like the best herby pork sausage. So that has triggered the idea that I will try making a lasagne with italian pork sausage meat, when I get home.

I also had a bit of a revelation today. I had a shower, my first since prior to my surgery, and I was so pleased to get my hair washed. The whole shower thing was a bit weird as I still had the catheter in place and so I had to take my golden handbag along with me. But sitting on the provided stool and just letting the water flow over me was superb.

I also had lots of visitors today, so it was a good job that I had that shower … lol.

Todays supper was Lancashire hotpot with extra mash. The hotpot was very nice but the mash was very dry. And, I  didn’t get the recommended extra gravy I requested. However, I did get two Vanilla ice creams. They really are very nice, smooth and creamy.

Finally, my catheter has been removed but, unfortunately, I haven’t pee’d since. So I was given an ultrasound of the bladder and, apparently, there wasn’t much pee in there so retention isn’t an issue. Bottom line, I have to up my fluid intake, then if I don’t pee they will catheterise me again. And we don’t want that.

With the catheter gone I am now in my jim jams which are much more comfortable than those horrible hospital gowns. And finally, at around 21:00, the dam burst and I managed a pee. This was followed by several others during the night. All were captured so the nurses could check the volume and, apparently, all is good.

9th April – Operation Day +9

Hallelujah, the surgeon has told me that I can go home, shook my hand and wished me well. I asked a nurse what the discharge procedure was. I was told that getting meds from the pharmacy was usually the thing that dictated when I could go, but that I should expect late afternoon or evening.

Shortly after this the ward sister came to see me, told me my meds had been requested and the indications were that they would be available sooner, rather than later. She told me to order lunch just in case it actually was later. In fact meds and lunch arrived together. I was told to have lunch and then the discharge process could be completed.

Wow, lunch was a celebration. Roast turkey breast, roast potatoes, sprouts, carrots, and, wait for it, banana stuffing!!!! Who ever heard of banana stuffing? Certainly not me, and it wasn’t for my palate.  Apparently, it is a carribean thing.

Anyway, food eaten, sister returned with my meds, my discharge papers and one last bit of education. New news to me was that I was going to have to inject myself with an anticoagulant.  She had a syringe and rolled up pad to simulate my tummy. I was directed in the correct use. The two carrier bags of meds contained, primarily, several boxes of preloaded syringes. I am to inject myself twice daily, for thirty days.

So, formalities completed, the porter arrived and I was soon loaded into a wheel chair and propelled to the main exit where my son-in-law was waiting to drive me home.

And there we have it. My hospital experiences around my robotic laparoscopic right side hemicolonectomy.

Bobs Bowel 7 – Outpatients Anaesthetics


Thursday 13th February, and another appointment. Once again, at the Queen Alexandra Hospital. I’ll soon have my own allocated parking space if my visits carry on at this rate.

This time my appointment is with an anaesthetist in the Outpatients department.

My appointment was at 10:00, and right on the button, I was whisked away for some observations. I had my blood pressure, weight, and height measured, again. I was also given an ECG.  And then it was back to the waiting room where I had time to make friends, playing peek-a-boo with a toddler.

After a short while my name was called by the anaesthetist wearing an amazing pair of electric blue shoes.

After the usual pleasantries she revealed that we had met before. Ten years ago, when I went in for the brachytherapy treatment for my prostate. She was the anaesthetist who drew the short straw for my procedure. As a patient I was not very cooperative, not on purpose. With me sat on the table in theatre she attempted to give me an epidural. Three times!! My body just refused to play ball, would not give up my spinal fluid so no further attempts were made.

Once the procedure was underway it was time for me to misbehave again. I unconciously decided to vomit. She unfortunately had to deal with that, and call in Dynarod to suck out my tubes.

I apologised to her as in my head I was to blame, having had rather a lot of cheese as my last meal the night  before the procedure. Nobody told me that they tilted you head down to insert the nuclear seeds. She showed me the copious notes taken following that little episode but she was quite magnanimous. Noting my, as yet undiagnosed, type 2 diabetes which apparently can have the effect of slowing down your stomach process, causing “pooling” which in turn can cause regurgitation.

After reminiscing about old times we got down to the business in hand. We had the inevitable chat about my health in general and specifically focussing on weight, fitness and diet.

I was given a thorough but gentle arse kicking. Likening preparing for the operation to an athlete preparing for the olympics. Apparently the procedure will last about four hours and, although I will be unconcious laid out on the table, for my body it will be akin to running against Usain Bolt. So, as she put it, I need to be in the best possible shape to deal with the procedure but also the fitter I am the faster I will recover.

Exercise and weight loss are the order of the day, supplemented by plenty of practice with my spirometer. She wants me to up my daily walking. That shouldn’t be hard since it is negligible at the moment.

We also talked about diet with regard to my diabetes which can have a negative impact on my post op recovery. And right there is where I get into trouble.

In general the medics extol the benefits of a balanced diet, with plenty of fruit, vegetables, nuts, seeds and so forth. Quite often promoted as the mediterranean diet. Below is a typical chart promoting a balance diet. All stuff that I like.

Due to the location of my tumour which is partially blocking my bowel I have been advised to stay on a low residue diet which conflicts with the idea of a balanced diet. Which in turn also conflicts with a diabetic friendly diet.

What that means is that the only food that I can eat from the green zone is carrots which have been peeled and cooked until they are soft. I can have cucumber but I have to peel it and scoop out the seeds. From the yellow zone I cannot eat any of the wholegrain items. I can have potatoes cooked without their skins and not shown I can have white bread, rice and pasta.

Hang on a bit, actually, for my diabetes I should not be eating any quantity of carbohydrates as this gets turned into sugar, bad for diabetics. So between the diabetes and my tumour everything in the yellow zone is pretty much a no-no.

Things do get a little better when we look at that strange pink zone. I can eat the tinned tuna, chicken, fish, eggs, and mince. Although my tumour says no to fish skin and bones like you might get with sardines and pilchards. Meat is fine but no gristly bits, no bacon rind etc.

And on to the blue zone where I am allowed small amounts of cheese and milk.

And so, I am resigned to eating a mainly protein diet, not quite leaping into the full carnivor diet. Supplemented by squidgy overcooked root vegetables.

As if meal preparation wasn’t already difficult enough.

Ah well, as the anaesthetist says, it is only for a few weeks.

Sad to say, I still don’t have a date for my op.

Bobs Bowel 6 – Iron Intravenous Infusion


Monday 10th February and, as I stated in my last post, although I don’t have a date for the surgery the NHS is hell bent on keeping me busy.

Following my colonoscopy I was informed that I was borderline anaemic and that I would need an Iron Infusion before my surgery.

Today is the day and my appointment was scheduled for 10:00. However, my iron prescription has not arrived.

So, sitting waiting. It is 10:30 !

It’s now 11:10, and after much searching, the nurses, three of them, have managed to cannulate me. Apparently, my veins were playing hide and seek. Not helped by my not having had a drink before arriving in hospital.

I did make a cup of tea, but traffic news indicated problems, so we left early. My tea is still sitting on the kitchen counter.

I am now hooked up to the iron  juice,

and literally, it has just entered my arm.

The infusion should take about an hour.

Job done in just under an hour. I’ve been unplugged, given a cup of coffee and an egg mayo butty. Thirty minutes to check there are no ill effects.

Thirty minutes was up. Took my blood pressure, blood gas, and temperature. All good. The canula was removed, and I was discharged.

It’s now 13:30 and I’m sitting in the hospital cafeteria having a proper coffee. I’m killing some time before heading up to visit a friend of mine who has been a patient here for the last few days.

As for me, I have go and get a blood test in two weeks to see if the iron juice has done its job.

More later ….

Bobs Bowel 5 – Surgery School


Monday 3rd February and the preparations for my impending surgery continue apace. The latest adventure was a two hour class at Surgery School.

I know the NHS is constantly strapped for cash but putting me through a crash course in surgery doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence that my outcome will be positive.

Of course the aim is not for me to carry out DIY surgery. No this session was all about preparing me for surgery and getting me as fit as possible both for the procedure and the recovery period after.

Getting fitter, they say, will help reduce the risks associated with the surgery. Risks such as chest infection, blood clots, kidney problems, wound infection / healing.

To this end the speakers were focusing on exercise and nutrition, the importance of a balanced diet. Unfortunately, my cancer is such that it is partially blocking my bowel. Because of this I am continuing on a low residue diet which means I cannot eat many of the “healthy” foods. No wholegrain breads, no high fibre vegetables such as onions, leeks, cabbages, and cauliflower. Also many of my favourite salad vegetables such as tomatoes, peppers, radishes, celery and baby corn are excluded. In addition to the low residue diet I am also on a course of laxative, Molaxole. To help keep things moving.

Thankfully I am not a smoker as that is definitely a no-no. Apparently smoking can have detrimental effects on ones ability to heal and also the well publicised impact on the respiratory system.

Similarly, drinking alcohol is frowned upon. My consumption in general has reduced dramatically over the last few years, to the point where I might only have a pint of beer or a glass of wine every week or two. Total abstinence won’t be an issue for me.

Preferably they like patients to totally abstain from drinking and smoking on the run up to surgery and offer help to those who need it.

And finally, that brings me to the contraption in the photo below. No it isn’t some kind of sex toy. This beast is an Incentive Spirometer.

Incentive Spirometer

All folks attending surgery school were given one of these. The purpose is to reduce the risk of lung complications following surgery.

Use of the incentive spirometer is part of the iCOUGH process a program implemented by hospitals nationally and internationally. The acronym ICOUGH stands for: Incentive Spirometry, Coughing and deep breathing, Oral care, Understanding, Getting out of bed at least three times daily, and Head-of-bed elevation. The program emphasizes deep breathing exercises to keep lungs healthy and prevent lung problems. Oral care, patient and family education, getting out of bed, and head-of-bed elevation are also important components of the program.

We were instructed to use this device three time per day prior to surgery, and every hour following surgery.

I still don’t have a date for the actual surgery but the medics are focussed on getting me fit and also preventing me from getting bored.

Unforseen


None of us can see into our futures. It wouldn’t be much fun if we could.

However, Jon, my son in law probably wishes he had been touched with a small spoonful of prescience.

Yesterday, he was swapping out the battery in his car. It is a task that he has carried out many times over the years. What made this time a little different was his treading on uneven ground.

Before he knew it, his left foot tucked under as he put his weight on it. He heard a sharp crack, followed by his eyesight being impaired by blue spots and, as he parked his bum on the kerbside, an overwhelming feeling of nausea.

The net result was a trip down to the Urgent Treatment Centre (UTC) at St Mary’s hospital in Portsmouth, with yours truly acting as a taxi driver.

Generally speaking, nobody wants to go to the UTC. Primarily because the wait times can be horrendous and the waiting room would not be high on anyone’s list of must see places. At the time of writing the current wait time is indicated to be 3 hours.

So, at around 11:45 I dropped Jon at the UTC and went to find a parking space.

At 11:50 Jon was booked in and awaiting triage. By 12:15 he had been seen and was waiting for an x-ray having been told there was, potentially, a two hour wait.

At just after 13:00 immersed in Swedish detective thriller I was startled back to reality by my phone ringing.

Jon had been dealt with and was ready to head home.

The diagnosis, he had broken the very end of his fibula.

So no cast, no boot just a pair of crutches to help him keep the weight off and advised to take paracetamol to deal with any pain.

We obviously caught the UTC just at the right time. Jon had been dealt with in around 75 minutes.

So thank you and well done the NHS.

Back Pain – At Last A Diagnosis


Spinal stenosis happens when the space inside the backbone is too small. This can put pressure on the spinal cord and nerves that travel through the spine. Spinal stenosis occurs most often in the lower back and the neck. Some people with spinal stenosis have no symptoms.

For years, Gerry, my wife, has suffered back problems. Problems which were caused initially when Gerry was a trainee nurse. She was trying to help move a patient who wouldn’t comply with instructions. Bingo ! There then followed years of painful episodes.

Gerry tried various treatments ranging from putting a board under the bed mattress thru acupuncture and microwave treatments and on to the more physical chiropractor, osteopath, and physiotherapist sessions.

Some of these treatments seemed to work, and others seemed to do nothing much at all. Regardless, Gerry has suffered.

More recently and for some time, Gerrys ability to stand for longish periods has been diminishing. As has her ability to walk any great distances. This prompted me to obtain a wheelchair which did help some, and then after hiring one at a garden show, we bought Gerry a mobility scooter.

Last year, June 2022, Gerry started a particularly painful episode. The pain was unrelenting, mainly in her lower back, but also shooting down her legs.

We were due to go on holiday with family to Menorca and things were so bad I thought we would cancel. But Gerry was adamant, another word for stubborn. The holiday went ahead but only due to the use of airport services who transported Gerry through Gatwick and Mahon airports and loaded her onto the planes. I have to say the folks working in airport services were brilliant.

As for the holiday, it wasn’t the best. Although we went out for meals, we were pretty much confined to barracks with Gerry spending a lot of time laid on a bed. I suppose it was some compensation that it was warm and sunny.

Following the holiday, Gerrys back pain continued, easing a bit then increasing, then easing again but never really going away.

And so Christmas came and went, and to add to her woes, Gerry got a chest infection. I’m pretty sure she got one around the same time last year. We managed to get Gerry a telephone consult, and she was prescribed antibiotics without anyone seeing her or laying hands or a stethoscope on her. The chest infection seemed to clear up but came back again, so more antibiotics were prescribed. Still no face to face with a doctor.

Chest infection, finally, dealt with, and the back pain was still there. Gerry then got an ear infection. This triggered a face to face with a real doctor. The net result was more antibiotics but, big but, we were also able to discuss Gerrys back issues.

Following the doctors consult, Gerry got an appointment to see a physiotherapist who was a spinal specialist.

What a refreshing experience that was. He gave Gerry a thorough workup. Examining her mobility and discussing all aspects of her pain and additional symptoms such as continence issues.

Following his assessment, he told us that he suspected Gerry was suffering from severe spinal stenosis that, if untreated, could mean paralysis of her legs and further serious continence issues. He further stated that at no time should Gerry allow any physical manipulation, i.e., by a physiotherapist, osteopath, or chiropractor.

The physiotherapist referred Gerry for an MRI. Within a month, Gerry had the scan, and a few days later, the results were available. He called early one morning to confirm that, as he suspected, Gerry did, in fact, have severe spinal stenosis of the L3/L4 vertebrae.

Wow ! A diagnosis. You cannot know what that meant to Gerry. Up till now, she had always had the feeling that people didn’t believe that there was an issue. After all, it’s invisible. Now, with an official diagnosis, it seems more real.

So where to from there ? He told us that he was going to submit Gerrys case to the surgical team to see if they could operate.

Things moved quite quickly after that. We heard that the surgical team were prepared to operate, that we would be contacted by the surgeon.

Gerry then had an appointment to see the surgeon, Dr Davies, at New Hall Hospital, near Salisbury. He discussed the procedure and showed us the MRI images. The images showed very clearly what the issues were. In particular, they showed how the inside of Gerrys vertebrae had spurs, which were impinging on her spinal cord, the source of her continuing pain.

Dr Davies was very confident that he could operate and, at the very least, resolve Gerrys pain. This, in turn, would improve Gerrys posture, her ability to stand straight and to walk reasonable distances. Time would only tell if any spinal damage would be healed and alleviate the continence issues. So we left New Hall to await a date for Gerrys procedure.

We didn’t have to wait very long. Wednesday, the 1st of November, was the date set for the operation with a pre-admission clinic on Monday, the 30th of October.

And so Gerry had her procedure as scheduled. She was in theatre for around an hour and in a private room soon after. At around 17:15 she was visited by a physiotherapist who cajoled her into getting out of bed and had her walking down the hospital corridor. Shortly after that, I headed home with the intention of going back the following morning as early as I was allowed. Hospitals are not the most stimulating of places.

The following morning, I had already spoken to Gerry about her night, and if she managed to get any sleep. I had just cooked myself some breakfast when my phone rang. It was Gerry informing me that she could come home.

Wow !!! I was expecting Gerry to be kept in at least one more night. Obviously, she had impressed the medical staff so much that they felt she should complete her recovery at home.

Ninety minutes later I was loading a fairly tender Gerry into my car. One hours fairly careful driving and she was home.

And so, here we are, ten days after the operation. Gerry is fairly pain free. What pain she does have is from the surgery, not from the stenosis. All the signs are positive that the surgery has removed the pain. Gerry is able to get herself in and out of bed fairly well and she is definitely standing straighter. She is managing to navigate around the house with the aid of a Zimmer Frame. Time will only tell if her spinal cord will recover sufficiently to restore full continence. Such recovery could take up to eighteen months.

Gerry had an appointment on Tuesday at our local surgery to have the surgery site examined and the dressing removed. The wound is healing nicely, and it was not necessary to apply a new dressing. No stitches to be removed, just the glue which slowly disappear over time. And the best news, Gerry was told that she could have a shower, not having had one since November 1st.

On the 23rd of November, Gerry starts physiotherapy, which will speed her recovery and on to full independence. No doubt we will still be making use of the wheelchair and “Madge” the mobility scooter for some time. However the goal is for Gerry to, eventually, become separated from them too. Fingers crossed.

Gerry has already stopped using the Zimmer around the house.

Although Gerry was diagnosed with severe spinal stenosis this year and has been treated this year, I believe that she was exhibiting the symptoms over twelve months before. Two things delayed this diagnosis …

  • Gerrys on going back problems over so many years brought about a kind of “oh it’s just her back” kind of attitude. Just prescribe some painkillers but no real diagnostic investigation. Although Gerrys long-term back problems and the stenosis do not have the same origins, I am convinced that the former masked the onset of the latter.
  • The difficulty, post Covid, to get an appointment with a doctor, thereby blocking a proper diagnostic conversation and, of course, removing the visual aspect of a doctor actually observing their patient.

On the 14th December Gerry has a telephone consult with Mr Davies. Just over a month will have elapsed. What progress has been made remains to be seen.

So, that’s the story so far……

Cretins, Morons, Imbeciles


A nurse, who works at Queen Alexandra Hospital, has suffered a panic attack, following an attack against the hospital bus on which she was riding.

https://www.portsmouth.co.uk/news/people/queen-alexandra-hospital-nurse-suffers-panic-attack-after-hospital-bus-attacked-youths-portsmouth-3106179

The bus was attacked by youths throwing stones. One of the windows alongside the nurse shattered, bringing about the panic attack.

One can only imagine the thought processes going on inside the heads of these morons. They certainly have no concerns about the potential consequences of their actions.

This is yet another example of the same moronic behaviour that sees youths attacking all of our emergency service workers.

Who on earth thinks its a good idea to attack our firemen while they are trying to save lives at risk in fires and road accidents. And who thinks its a good idea to attack our ambulance crews and paramedics while they are attending those same incidents.

And then we have the police having to stoically endure interference on a daily basis, whilst putting their own lives at risk, going about their business, to protect us from these same idiotic morons.

Presumably, these are the same thought processes that make firing fireworks at peoples houses. As was happening, in Portsmouth, only a few weeks ago.

This imbecilic behaviour isn’t restricted to the Portsmouth area, rather it is endemic to the whole country.

I don’t understand the whys and wherefores and I don’t pretend to have a solution. What I do know is that the ASBO scheme isn’t good enough. Some youths see being awarded an ASBO as a badge of honour.

When I was a youth, the older folks used to say “they should bring back National Service”. I find that I am now of the opinion that is a good idea.

Going further back in time, to the 16th and 17th centuries, there were the stocks and pillory. Now the idea of these really appeal to me.

Throwing rotten fruit and veg at these miscreants would give some instant feelings of retribution to their victims. And, just maybe, these morons would be too embarrassed to offend again. They would certainly be a very visible reminder to other would be offenders.

I think today’s society could learn something from our ancestors.

Conundrum


I am currently languishing in the Perth suburbs, Western Australia.

Last October, my son-in-law Steve was diagnosed with a brain tumour (glioblastoma). Very quickly, following the diagnosis, he was whisked into hospital for brain surgery. At the time we didn’t know how much after care he would need but we offered to help out and so my wife and I travelled out to Oz to provide support.

After care wasn’t the issue. Steve really recovered well after the surgery with no real pain and none of the residual weakness that would have been present following an abdominal or chest operation.

No, the follow up treatment and schedule was the real issue.

The radiotherapy was daily, Monday to Friday, for six weeks. Whilst the chemotherapy was tablet form, taken daily Monday to Sunday during the same six weeks. Following the surgery Steve was forbidden to drive for the next six to twelve months. So, to enable my daughter to carry on working, my role was to act as chauffer. Daily trips to Fiona Stanley Hospital, Perth interspersed with trips to Sir Charles Gairdner Hospital, also in Perth. As well as various trips for blood tests and scans.

As the chemo built up in his system, the expected nausea and fatigue and exhaustion also built up. Alongside all this came the loss of appetite and corruption of taste buds.

And here is the conundrum.

What do you feed someone, who has all this going on ?

Even after the initial course of chemo and radio therapies has been completed, the dietary disruption continues.

After all, it is hard enough, under normal circumstances, to cater for the normal familial likes and dislikes of

  1. a granddaughter who doesn’t eat meat that isn’t chicken or ham (unless its a burger or a rissole, then almost anything goes) and has a limited set of veggie likes (eats broccoli and cauliflower but not green beans or pumpkin). By the way she loves fish but won’t eat salmon.
  2. a wife who loves fish especially salmon, has a short list of veggies (eats cauliflower but not broccoli and no sprouts or carrots) and doesn’t eat “spicy” food or creamy food i.e. white sauces are something of a minefield. Still waiting for the clear definition of what constitutes spicy.
  3. a daughter who also doesn’t like “spicy” food, likes fish that isn’t salmon or trout. Not sure about tuna ??? Eats most veggies (definitely no sprouts) and all non chicken meats have to be cooked to near charcoal point i.e. no pink

Before the tumour and chemo, Steve used to pretty much eat everything. Now he finds the flavour of most foods to be too strong, overpowering.

So, bland is the order of the day. Steamed fish or chicken predominates. Or the same but simply pan fried or baked. No sauces and definitely no herbs or spices. Some meals comprise just two tenderloin chicken pieces, total weight around 60g, steamed and maybe accompanied by a couple of carrot batons and/or a small broccoli floret.

So, how do I feed Steve without overpowering his hypersensitive taste-buds ? How do I coax him to eat a bit more as his energy levels are already depleted due to the chemo ? The lack of food does nothing to boost those already depleted levels. How do I introduce a bit of variety to his diet ?

Although he completed the initial concurrent chemo / radio therapies, my son-in-law has now started a new regime. He takes a five day course of tablet form chemotherapy, one week in four.

So, the disruption to taste, appetite, stamina and energy levels will be continuing for the next six months at least, maybe even for twelve.

Any suggestions ?

Dairycrest Driver – Dickhead Of The Day Award


Yes, Thanks for the scary WTF moment this morning. I needed something to get my heart pumping …. NOT !!!

So there I am following this Dairycrest milk float through the QA hospital site when you, the Dairycrest driver, decided to pull into the bus stop lay by without indicating or braking. I carry on following the road and am just pulling alongside the milk float when you, the Dairycrest driver, pulled back out into the road, again with no indication.

Good job one of us was awake this morning as I avoided the collision that you, the Dairycrest driver, were intent on having.

That is why I award you, the Dairycrest driver, my Dickhead Of The Day award.

This award is normally reserved for Aqua Cars drivers, who have a total disregard for the highway code once the get on the QA site. However, they were somewhat scarce today so the award is yours.