|Fun on Ward 78!|
I'll start where I left off last time with my bloods starting to go back up again. Slowly at first but within a few days they had started to go back up. I was still very ill though and my throat was unbearably sore.
After many days of watching food programmes on tv I decided the least I could do was try and eat something. I pressed the button on my morphine pump until I was absolutely out of it and then tried to sip some water. In hindsight it probably would've been wise to wait a while before attempting this. The sip was so horrendously painful the thought of it is making me shudder even now.
Over the next few hours and days I repeated this painful process, I worked out afterwards it took me approximately two days to drink half a glass of water a sip at a time. I can't say I didn't try!
I continued getting a shower everyday but because of the morphine I was beginning to hallucinate. You know something isn't quite right when people walk past you in the shower of your isolation room and greet you with good evening!
Slowly but truly I started to feel a bit better. I started to eat again slowly, one morning wake up and deciding toast would be what I would next conquer. It hurt so so much but I managed it and although it took my and hour and a half, it was the best piece of food I've ever eaten.
Beginning to eat and drink again was in many ways similar to getting a shower everyday. Whenever I'm stuck with something or annoyed I think, if I can go through high dose chemotherapy I can go through anything. It's all just small steps. These two things were my first goals and I've never looked back. I know I can do anything I put my mind to and so can anyone else. They seemed like two big tasks at the time and they were, but I did them both.
Nothing is impossible with determination and perseverance.
The days of this week seemed to blend into one because of how ill I was. I could still barely walk and I had lost a lot of weight. I could fit my hand around my legs at the widest point, but as I started to eat the nurses decided it would be okay for me to be taken off being fed through my portacath and they also decided I no longer required the morphine.
Everything seemed to be going well for me and I was so positive. That was until my Mum came in to wake me up on the Sunday morning. It was Sunday the 4th of April and my Mum came in crying. I asked why she was crying and she told me that Beth had passed away that morning. I cried so so much, I'd been looking forward to going to see her one last time but now I never would. More and more I wished I'd gone to see her when she left the ward. I'll never let an opportunity go again. If you love someone let them know while you can. It's the words you want to say but never do that you'll regret the most.
The doctors also said that if my bloods stayed up then I may be able to go home. They would check them on Monday and if they were fine I'd be able to go home. However if at home I'd be unable to go out with groups of more than ten for the first two months and no busy places for three months. This included Sixth Form, Hull or any form of public transport.
Both I and the doctors were amazed at how I'd done. I'd been told that I would be in for four weeks at least. I'd ask my consultant, Bob, had anyone done it in under four weeks. He laughed at the suggestion I'd do it in under four weeks and said he had only seen it happen once in the last ten years.
On Monday the 4th of April they checked my bloods and they were all okay. They told me I was allowed to go home and after staying on the ward for pizza (Monday is always pizza night on the ward!), I finally left Ward 78 at Leeds General Infirmary.
I completed my high dose chemotherapy in three weeks and five days.