It's Great to be Home!

It's absolutely fantastic to be back here after all this time. I spoke to Happy Matt before I left and it turns out that although medically I wasn't quite ready to leave some other poor soul needed the bed and I was close enough for them to allow me to go home. My neutraphil count was 1.97, just a whisker away from the 2 they like it to be before you leave. Now it's just a question of trying to get my strength and energy back and something resembling an appetite.

So what's the experience been like? Well long to start with. It does help that they give you a rough time scale when you're starting out and I've followed that almost to the letter. They said three to four weeks, and it was three weeks and one day. For long periods I was too unwell to really care about or be aware of the passing of time, but as I've got better these last few days have started to drag. The hotel is a great idea as it softens the hospital element to a degree, although as I felt pretty unwell for periods I doubt I would choose to stay there ever again. I'd read blogs by people who had been through this and was amazed to read they'd been out for dinner whilst on chemotherapy. I didn't think this credible. But on the last day of my chemo I did indeed feel well enough to go out for a Thai meal, and on another night the cinema. So it can be done.

My overwhelming memory though is of sickness, either feeling nauseous (which is wretched) or actually throwing up. I think it's just the way my body reacts to all that poison being tipped into it. The medics did their best and I don't suppose it ever got out of control, but it did go on for a long time and was pretty debilitating. It affects your appetite, your mood and your energy levels as constantly being sick is pretty exhausting. It's the one big negative of the whole thing. On the other hand having been warned how nasty mucositis can be I think I escaped pretty much unscathed particularly in my mouth and throat thanks to the copious amounts of ice I ate at the time of the infusion. It's well worth the pain. I did suffer some nasty heartburn and disturbances to the lower bowel but I think I would have been very unusual indeed not to have had these side effects. That coupled with the nausea and vomiting made for an uncomfortable few days. It makes you realise just how toxic the chemotherapy they give you is.....I can't believe any cancer cells can have survived the onslaught.

The staff here are fantastic. I have been really well looked after and never once thought they had taken their eye off the ball. I've see the transplant registrar (Happy Matt) every day and the consultant (Kirsty Thompson) twice a week. As well as this the nurses are all absolutely at the top of their game and you know nothing is likely to be overlooked. The room has been cleaned thoroughly on a daily basis and bed changed as often.

So overall I think it's gone as well as it could really. Although I've had smouldering temperatures there's been nothing to make me feel unwell in that regard, so on the infection front I've been very lucky so far. I'm still at risk (and will be for some time) but that diminishes with every day that passes.

Day +13: SPRUNG

Just been told by the doctors that I CAN GO HOME.

Forgive me for not writing more....but I have to pack.

Day +12: So nearly there.

Here's proof (were it needed) of my new mobility and freedom as I sip a latte in the UCLH cafe opposite Warren St tube station. You'll notice I'm a little thin. I'm down around 6kgs and am starting to look a little pinched in the face. Don't worry...when I get home I'll get the weight back on I'm sure. And speaking of home....

Well my latest neutrophil count has come in better than expected at 1.7 - well above target, and so I've had the last of the growth factor injections this evening. I expect another good increase tomorrow, then provided I don't have a dramatic crash or get a fever I could possibly go home on Wednesday! They stopped giving me i/v antibiotics today, so I won't have to be woken up at 0100 for them to be administered, which will make a nice change. It has become a bit of a question of marking time now.

Dave J popped in to help me pass some of it today. He was at a climate change event at UCL and dropped in on his way back to Paddington. It was great to see him and get some news of the outside world. It turns out I was mistaken in my belief as to the identity of Kitten Kong, although Alasdair may have given it away by mentioning there was no sign of him at Sixways on Saturday. Or maybe I'm just plain wrong again? Cheese anyone?

Day +11: Open for Visitors

A quick post tonight as I'm having connectivity problems up here in top of the tower land. Just to say then that with a healthy total WBC and neutrophils at 0.72 (sure to be over 1 by tomorrow) I am no longer in splendid isolation and indeed can actually leave the room. This I duly did this afternoon as Nik and I went down to the canteen for a coffee. I have to confess to feeling really weird being in clothes again, really restricted and uncomfortable. Maybe I've discovered my closet naturist? Anyway have no fear, modesty has prevailed and will do should you decide to come and visit. I'll be here certainly until Wednesday and would love some company. Here's my address; bed 27, ward T16, main building UCH, Euston Rd. Don't forget the alcohol gel on the way in (for your hands PD!) and please don't come if you feel even slightly unwell. It would be lovely to see you. Medically I continue to improve; daily GCSF injections continue + i/v antibiotics although my guess is they'll stop the latter tomorrow. No nausea and no stomach cramps.

I met a chap who underwent his stem cell harvest at the same time of my (unsuccessful) first attempt whilst in the canteen. He's just starting his transplant. I was mightily relieved to be sitting on this side of the procedure as we chatted. I'm being to feel a great sense of relief now; that I appear to have come through this reasonably unscathed (so far) and that it should, with any luck, be a long time before I have to contemplate chemotherapy again. A massive weight is being lifted from my shoulders.

Day +10: Neutrophils!!

The cavalry are definitely on the way. From being completely undetectable there are now neutrophils present in my blood again. The current figure is 0.09. To put this in context it needs to be above 1 for me to be allowed home as this is deemed a safe amount. So what happens is we wait for that to happen and then withdraw the growth factor I've been getting to stimulate them just to check I can keep up production without any extra help. Once that is confirmed I can go home! What's encouraging is that even though my haemoglobin has dropped under 10 it hasn't crashed completely which suggests that my bone marrow has definitely started to work again.

I'm generally feeling a lot better today and have asked them to remove the pump that's feeding me constant anti-sickness meds. I'm also aiming to drink enough today to remove the need for i/v fluids. I don't want there to be any reason for them to delay my departure.

On reading my comments it became clear that kitten kong had taken a few drams too many and that Lynn and Dave may have joined him. AMIL and AFIL provided an answer as to what the A stands for....I of course have my own version but I feel it would be impolite to share it here. Welcome to Rob Jacq Lauren and Sarah and Max in Bonnie Scotland. I'm glad my posting earlier in the day fits in with your Swiss schedule a little better, Chris! When are you taking up Alpine horn blowing?

No visit from the kids today as Honor has a bit of a cold and it's just not worth the risk, especially as I might only be a few days away from home anyway.

Day +9: Lack Of Inspiration.

And so the desert stretches on for miles and miles with little if any change. That's a bit how it feels here right now. As I began to think about what to write today I realised nothing had changed. Still got a low grade fever, still on anti sickness meds, WBC still creeping up. In fact I could probably just cut and paste yesterdays effort! There is one interesting little twist, however. As I write Nik is fast asleep on the sofa which is a bit of a role reversal from the last few days.

I suspect as I begin to feel better that the days which had passed mostly in a drug induced haze will begin to drag a little, so watch out for the magic moment when I'm no longer neutropenic and I can declare the good ship Morrison officially open to visitors! (Early next week with a bit of luck) Looking through my list of followers I seem to have attracted the attention of an over sized kitten which looks suspiciously like a refugee from a 1970's television programme. Every time I look though the Post Office Tower is still there. Joan...miracles it appears do happen! I saw your comment, not though through divine intervention but the intervention of St Anne of Malvern who pointed out where it was hiding. Chris and Sandra, Matt the registrar will not be sharing his observations following his examination of my nether regions on this blog because of medical confidentiality (taste and decency). He has however, AFIL and AMIL will be pleased to hear, given me a nice vase of daffodils for the window ledge.

I lied by the way about no new news. My hair has started falling out again and the hospital bed has the look of a well used dog couch. No fleas though, yet.

Day + 8: Green Shoots

I know it currently seems the vogue to "shoot" anyone who mentions the phrase Green Shoots of Recovery, but I think I'm on safe ground. Happy Matt announced today that my overall white blood cell (WBC) count had started to rise. This is normally the precursor to the return of the all important neutrophils which we'll hopefully see in the next couple of days. In fact he actually smiled; maybe he does enjoy his job after all. With these come all sorts of good things like feeling well again, so I can't wait. I continue on GCSF to help them along, but they've removed the Cyclizine from my anti-sick meds to no obvious detriment. (Having written that sentence I had to pause to be sick, so what do I know?)

I am begining to be alarmed by my neighbour in the next door room who is issuing horrid groaning noises at all hours of the day and night. Either he is seriously unwell, or this really is like the Tower of old and the poor chap's on the rack next door? Seriously though it is disconcerting, but things are obviously much worse for him than they have been for me so I'll just wish him the speediest possible recovery.

My food intake is still pitiful, and drinking not much better; I get nasty pains everytime I consume anything. I'm also dreadfully tired...today the combined effort of lunch, a shower a poo and a wee knocked me out for over 4 hours!

Day +7: Hello Again

OK. So it seems that whilst I was asleep the US got a new President and many of you have me down as a closet Lethargian. Poor Nik had to fill in quite late last night when it became clear I was struggling with extended periods of consciousness. I've been more alert today, especially this morning and I think have felt generally the best I have got a while. (You know how it can be you only realised you were feeling under the weather when you get better as you're knowledge of normal becomes a little skewed.)

So to today. My platelet count has dropped very low and so I've has another transfusion of those. The reason for the concern is some bleeding I'be been experiencing and led to the joy of Happy Matt the Kiwi registrar looking up my bum with a torch! Anyway he saw nothing amiss (Matron!) but prescribed the transfusion to be on the safe side. My counts generally are off scale low, in fact I have so few neutrophils the machine can't find any. The docs constantly tell me that my sense of well-being will return when those blighters start showing up in big numbers again. Fingers crossed that will be in the next couple of days now. Maybe by the weekend I'll be up to seeing the kids, as it will have been a fortnight by then. Mind you tonight they could barely drag themselves away from The Simpsons to talk to me, which means all is normal in their world, which can only be a good thing. Is this how they imagine me? Doh!

Day +6: Late Edition

Nikki writes:

So while the rest of the world proletised about the new President turning the tide of history, Rory remained becalmed in the strange world at the top of The Tower. It's starting to feel almost fable-like, (fabulous isn't the word). He really did feel adrift today I think. I couldn't visit because I was unwell this morning and couldn't take the risk, and he tells me that he hasn't turned the computer on all day. So this is his message in a bottle.....

The sickness has improved if not entirely dissipated, but the two drugs doing all the business are heavily sedative, to the point that today he'd slept for so long that they actually lifted his eye-lid and shone a torch in his eye! Not the most flattering gesture ever made. The drugs are also anti-psychotics so at they are at least determined to send him home sane. Then there was the visit by the palliative care team, no more endearing, but it was simply to see if they had any tricks up their sleeve when it comes to controlling the vomiting.... they hadn't.

And now, as "Happy Matt" the Kiwi registrar put it, "it's unfortunate" that not only has the top half of his gut suffered, but now "the bottom half's gone as well". We call him Happy Matt because he's the man who has to remind you of all that can go wrong before they do anything. He seems almost embarassed about this and so erms and mutters making it seem to go on and on. Still as you can see, at least he's mastered the art of English understatement.

The dietician has also been in today, again ostensibly to make suggestions but I sense Rory's not impressed. Nevertheless he's managed a couple of spoonfuls this evening.

And so when in future years our grandchildren ask, where were you when the first black President of the United States was inaugurated? Rory will be able to read this and tell them.

Day + 5: The Doldrums

In one of my favourite books when I was a child, The Phantom Tollbooth, the small boy at the centre of the story, Milo takes a wrong turn and ends up in The Doldrums where he meets an odd group of people called the lethargians, who live by very strange rules...

"Well, if you can't laugh or think, what can you do?" asked Milo.

"Anything as long as it's nothing, and everything as long as it isn't anything," explained another. "There's lots to do; we have a very busy schedule-

"At 8 o'clock we get up, and then we spend

"From 8 to 9 daydreaming.

"From 9 to 9:30 we take our early midmorning nap.

"From 9:30 to 10:30 we dawdle and delay.

"From 10:30 to 11:30 we take our late early morning nap.

"From ll:00 to 12:00 we bide our time and then eat lunch.

"From l:00 to 2:00 we linger and loiter.

"From 2:00 to 2:30 we take our early afternoon nap.

"From 2:30 to 3:30 we put off for tomorrow what we could have done today.

"From 3:30 to 4:00 we take our early late afternoon nap.

"From 4:00 to 5:00 we loaf and lounge until dinner.

"From 6:00 to 7:00 we dillydally.

"From 7:00 to 8:00 we take our early evening nap, and then for an hour before we go to bed at 9:00 we waste time.

"As you can see, that leaves almost no time for brooding, lagging, plodding, or procrastinating, and if we stopped to think or laugh, we'd never get nothing done."

"You mean you'd never get anything done," corrected Milo.

"We don't want to get anything done," snapped another angrily; "we want to get nothing done, and we can do that without your help."

"You see," continued another in a more conciliatory tone, "it's really quite strenuous doing nothing all day, so once a week we take a holiday and go nowhere, which was just where we were going when you came along. Would you care to join us?"

"I might as well," thought Milo; "that's where I seem to be going anyway."

I have become a lethargian I think but mainly through the meds they're giving me. I've slept most of today away and am not great company for poor old Nik after she's driven into London. Other excitements: the nausea may at last be under control, I've not been sick all day. I had a platelet tranfusion yesterday as mine had got critically low. And just before midnight I was wheeled down to x-ray so they could see if the infection is sited there. That was an odd experience suddenly sitting in a waiting room full of people who'd broken bits of themselves on their way home from the pub! Now if you'll excuse me I'll have my mid evening nap.

Day +4: Infection

They told me it was inevitable but even so part of you still hopes it won't happen to you. I am not however a medical miracle so late last night my temperature started to rise slowly but constantly until it got to a high point of 38.5 degrees, at which point they decided they needed to take some action. I was reviewed by the on-call doctor and put immediately onto intravenous broad spectrum antibiotics. So far these seem to have had the desired effect, my temperature has now come down to 37.5. The scarey thought is how quickly these bacteria move to take advantage when your defences are down. The doctors think this may have been a break away faction of Mr Yakult's friendly bacteria high on drink and drugs who got involved in a killing frenzy. The reason for this is that the Melphalan I took (was given) has caused my intestines to become thick and less flexible and therefore prone to tearing allowing those normally tasked with doing good things to turn to the dark side.


The rest of my world: still can't really keep anything down so they're now threatening to start feeding me, which I can't say I'm really happy about. If they can just resolve the nausea things would be so much better all round.

Day +3: Blogging by proxy

No not some new form of Munchausen's but as today has been a similar uphill stuggle Rory has asked me to write something for you on his behalf. It's the first day I haven't been able to visit so I'm pleased to be able to do at least this. Nausea and sickness have remained the problem, but they've increased the number of meds he's getting through the pump in the hope of getting it under control. He has managed one of those foul body builder milk shakes so possibly they are having some success, mind you the ice lolly defeated him so who knows? The side effect though is that he continues to be very drowsy. During one wakeful moment however he did manage a shower, important for infection control, and to move rooms! Not sure of the motivation but it brings him closer to the nurses station and I suspect the other transplant patients. He tells me that the fab view of London has been largely obscured by a flat roof although I somehow doubt that's a big deal right now. It seems that the neutropenia and the sickness have come on a little earlier than some might have expected, the hope is they will pass sooner and those precious stem cells do their engrafting sooner too. Rory and I have a 1 - 10 scale for how rank he's feeling, yesterday was an 8.5, today is 7.5; his temperature remains in normal bounds and most importantly he's still positive....if dopey. Please keep the comments coming, they really do make a difference. Love Nik

Day +2: Neutropenia

Ah! The Tower, the place where for centuries enemies of the state were incarcerated for the good of the nation. Well my modern day equivalent is certainly nowhere near as picturesque as this, and the reasons for my incarceration are all for the good of my health. It was confirmed that as of this afternoon I am now neutropenic; my immune system is in no shape to repel any would be opprtunistic infections that come along. So I've got to watch what I eat and they'll start to grow cultures with my blood to try and pick up any nasties before they do any real damage. It really becomes a numbers game from here on in as we count the number of neutrophils and platelets on a daily basis until they bottom out and then quickly (we hope!) recover. I'm not sure when I'll hit the bottom, but I'd like to think that by next weekend I'll be on the way up again. (But let's not count chickens) It's been another day battling nausea and basically just being quiet and still. I'm hoping this will resolve soon. There's a cracking view from up here...

And here I am zoned out in my new room. Not as nice as the Radisson but ok.

Day +1: The Tower

So, like a medieval miscreant I have been banished to the tower. This is where the transplant ward is up on the 16th floor. It was decided it was for the best that I come in now as my blood counts are coming down and I'm still feeling pretty nauseous most of the time. I'm now on constant medication to help with this. The upshot is I'm pretty sleepy, so a short post today. Hopefully more details and a few more pics tomorrow.

Day 0 (ii): Feeling like P -double-oh.

Where as yesterday I was all excited about the return of my stem cells today has been rather different. I had a disturbed night's sleep for the first time in a few days, with nasty griping stomach pains, and was sick in the night and again this morning. And that's been the story of the day really. A constant battle against nausea. I was in the very glamorous position of vomiting into a sick bowl whilst connected to my stem cell drip, you'll be pleased to know the photographer wasn't present for this. Despite this turn for the worse the doctors still seem happy for me to stay at the hotel so I've got at least one more night here and will probably go to The Tower (where the ward is) sometime tomorrow unless things radically improve. Meanwhile I'm having to carry on the balancing act of injecting myself with blood thinners until it thins of its own accord. It's just a case of holding tight through this evening hoping things don't get markedly worse through the night.

I still reek of sweetcorn from the preservative in the stem cells. I felt well enough to go to the cinema last night, I think everyone else there must have thought I'd dined on nothing but niblets. Better than nothing at all like today. Was it only the day before that I tucked into this scrummy pudding?


......I leave the captions to you!

Day 0 (i): Homeward Bound

No not me, well not yet anyway, but my stem cells. This after all is what it's all been about. It was a long hard slog collecting them; at one point it seemed it wasn't going to happen. I've had six days of chemotherapy and am now in a very perilous position. The deep frozen contents of the drum that was wheeled onto the unit this afternoon are quite literally going to save my life. So it was something of an emotional moment to see them emerge in cloud of dry ice from the liquid nitrogen in which they've been kept at -120 degrees since November. From there it gets rather more prosaic as each bag was dunked into a container of body temperature water in order to thaw out. We managed to take quite a few photos.


The cells came out of the container swathed in bubble wrap which made a popping and cracking sound as they emerged.

Then it was the paperwork! It's rather important to make sure that the cells are being returned to the right person. Here you see Raj on the left who is in charge of the unit and the senior nurse on the right Susie who supervised the procedure. What a cheery scene!

Here's Susie dunking a bag of cells into the bath of warm water by the bed. It took about ten minutes per bag for them to defrost.

Finally the bag of cells were hoisted onto a drip and returned to me via a canula in my arm. Susie's looking all professional here whilst I'm looking bemused to say the least! What amazes me is that once back inside me after their chilly few weeks in the freezer the stem cells know exactly where to go and what to do to kick start my immune system and enable me to resume production of red blood cells and platelets which will shut down completely in the next day or so. So why are there going to be two day zeros? Well the cells are stored in a preservative which (like most things in here it seems) can make you sick. They don't like to give you too much in one go. I've got ten bags of cells (+preservative) so I got six today and another four tomorrow. And it's true, I do now smell of sweetcorn. Just ask Nik.

The other business of the day was to do with the picc line. A scan this morning revealed there was a clot in the vein and the docs decided it was too risky to leave it in place. So the line is now out and I'm on blood thinners until my platelets crash later in the week when I'll have no clotting ability anyway!



This gives you an idea of the mess my left arm's in right now. This is probably why I'm pulling a less than jolly face here. In fact with my sweetcorn odour you could say I'm the not so jolly green giant. Ho ho ho. More of the same tomorrow. For now to bed 'cos I'm exhausted and am feeling a little battered and bruised.

Day -1: The Iceman Cometh

I think I mentioned in an earlier post that when I met the aquaintance of the nasty chemo drug that goes by the name of Melphalan I would have to suck on large quantities of ice in order to try and mitigate the amount of damage it's going to do to my mouth. So here I am about to tuck into a delicious blackcurrant slush puppy on the day care unit this morning. I had to begin 5 minutes before the infusion was started continue through it (half an hour) and then for 20 minutes afterwards. You might think that in the grand scheme of things that noshing on ice for an hour would not pose too much of a problem.....you'd be wrong, mainly because in these harsh economic times the hospital provided own brand low sugar blackcurrant juice, not Ribena. It was vile, so I sent Nik out for something more tasty. However by the time she returned I'd decided if I was going to be put off anything for life it might as well be own brand low fat blackcurrant juice and ploughed on. Oh look how I struggled......



I make the monkey from one of the earlier posts look quite handsome don't I?

Anyway as of the end of today there will now be NO MORE CHEMO! That's it. All I have to do is wait for it to do it's worst, which the docs believe will be by about Wednesday or Thursday. By then my immune system will be destroyed as will my ability to make red blood cells and platelets, so it will be a nervy and uncomfortable couple of weeks. We'll also see whether the ice eating has done the trick. Also today I've developed a large bruise at the site of my picc line. I'll have an ultrasound examination tomorrow to see if it's actually a clot which may mean they have to take it out. I'm surprisingly well still and actually had lunch today, so I'm still in a positive frame of mind. And tomorrow is Day zero....my boys will be back in town, but strangely (of which more tomorrow) in my world there will be 2 day zeros. Say tuned transplant fans!

Day -2: Bounce Back

I feel so much better today than yesterday. It's weird since I have another days worth of chemo in my system. But the nausea and vomiting has resolved itself to the point where I have felt able to eat a meal this evening, much to Nik's consternation. She's come into town to spend a few nights at the hotel with me until I get admitted and, not expecting me to eat, brought her own supper with her; a rather tasty chicken and avocado salad which I polished off in double quick time. At least there's a Sainsburys over the road! I put this much welcomed change in fortune down to the excellent nights sleep I got last night. The hospital have given me a new anti-nausea medication which also has a sedative effect. I popped one of these in at 11 last night at only woke at 8.45 this morning. (Andy and Helen....it's called Nozinan) It's been good timing as I've been able to drink plenty of fluids today in preparation for my introduction to Mr Melphalan tomorrow.

The picture shows how we've managed the problem of the Cadd pumps. I've got two of them; one for saline and one for chemo, and they were in a couple of bags which constantly tangled themselves up with the tubes and my limbs. Both pumps are now in my lunchbox and much easier to manage. We'd just better make sure the nurses don't try to attach a banana to my picc line.

It's been a pretty quiet day. Mum and Dad came for a visit, which was nice. Although Dad's left his gloves behind. I hope they're not a bio-hazard. Oh and yesterday (although I wasn't in any fit state to appreciate it) I met Dr Dan Martin who was one of the team from UCH who climbed Everest and took his trousers off near the summit to give a blood sample. Details here.
He apparently recorded the lowest blood oxygen level in a person who was not dead. Quite a guy.
I felt far to sick to talk to him. Ah well.

Day -3: The Monkeys win a reprieve!

There have been celebrations long into the night at Regent Park Zoo's primate house upon hearing the news that I would not be visiting today. It has in truth been a day of ups and downs, the biggest downer being the almost constant vomiting I'm having to endure. It started the moment I woke up and continued through the day even while attched to the drip in the hospital. Cue lots of concerned faces and mutterings that perhaps it would be for the best if I was admitted. To give them their due they do trust your judgement as an individual and when I said I didn't think we'd got to that point yet they were happy to let me come back to the hotel. It has eased off somewhat this afternoon and evening much to my relief. Anyway the general state of my health and the freezing conditions meant that we decided it was not the day for the zoo and just had a wander in the park instead.




Here we are standing in front of the boating lake which was frozen solid. I think the kids enjoyed having a run around and playing on the slide. It was certainly nice to see the family, a reminder of the normal mlife that is there to be reclaimed once I've got through all this. After our walk we all piled back to the hotel where I snoozed while Nik and the kids played cards and watched the tv. The place seems very quiet now they've gone. The afternoon wasn't without its wildlife as there were plenty of wildfowl in the park. Here I am with a Whooper Swan.


So over halfway through the chemo phase now. Keep 'em crossed.

Day -4: Sicko!

Well, it had to happen and today it did. I've been sick....twice to be exact. I've been feeling low level nauseaous for most of the day but I have still managed to eat and drink. I woke up feeling a bit rough and was sick right after taking the mornings anti sickness pills; charming. Not feeling up to the rigours of the hotel's full English I just had some fruit in my room before heading to the hospital. I was also sick late afternoon. I guess I should be pleased it's taken this long really. I was never going to get through the whole thing without it happening.

What this meant for me this afternoon was that I came back to my room, had a bath and took to my bed, where I've been ever since and am right now drinking a cup of miso soup. It would be nice to get through the weekend without being admitted. The kids are coming to see me tomorrow and we plan to have a wander round the zoo, which should keep my mind off things. Either that or I'll chuck up on the monkeys.

Thanks for your comments folks, it's nice to know I've got such great moral support out there. It really helps. I like the idea that I'm living trough a Carry On Movie with kinky pipes, attached to a cad (Terry Thomas most likely.) I just need to see a Doctor Tinkle and I guess we're there.

Matron!

Day -5: Timetable

Here's me poking my head out of the hotel window to indicate just how close I am to the hospital. The place I'm pointing to is The Rosenheim Building where the haemotology/oncology department is based. This is not you will have noticed the big blue tower that sits on the Euston Rd. The haemotology ward is based there on the 16th floor and by the end of next week I'll have taken up residence. The Rosenheim is where I go every day for my chemo...the exact place is to be seen on the first floor just above the attractive yellow bins. The new room is a great success...I had a good sleep in the queen sized bed and discovered this morning the speaker in the bathroom that means I can listen to the radio in the bath. Bargain. I promised a pic and here it is...

I also promised some treatment stuff didn't I?

I am having what's called a LEAM autograft, and this invloves four different types of chemotherapy and then the return of those hard fought for stem cells. The treatment is given over six days and the day I get the cells back is Day 0. We count down to then with the minus numbers.

On day -6 (yesterday) I had the L part of the equation, a drug called Lomustine. This amounted to 13 tablets that were given with a large drink of water and a warning that there was a high possibility I might throw them all back up again! After I'd taken them I had to wait for an hour just make sure this didn't happen which thankfully it did not, mainly because they made sure I was full of anti-sickness medication before we started. Yesterday I felt fine (which was just as well seeing as I was playing musical rooms) and came as a great relief as I'd convinced myself I was going to be pretty ill right from the start.

So to day -5. Two drugs today. Etoposide and Cytarabine (also known as Ara C). The Etoposide was given as a drip with lots of saline and took 3 hours to get in. The Cytarabine has to be administered for 30 minutes 12 hours apart. So that I don't have to trudge round to the hospital at half past eleven tonight I've been connected to a mobile pump (called a CADD) which will deliver the required dose whilst I'm in bed. This part of the treatment will last until Sunday.

CADD by the way stands for Continous Ambulatory Delivery Device.

Then on day -1 I get the nastiest of the four nasties....Melphalan, and a big old dose of it too. This is the one that wrecks your digestive system giving you stomach cramps, mouth ulcers and a dreadful sore throat. They apparently make you suck ice whilst your getting it to reduce blood flow to the mouth and try and limit the damage. It's the same idea as wearing an ice cap to try and stop your hair falling out. Will it work? Only time will tell.

Generally I still feel ok, a little weary tonight with what I would describe as low level nausea which is being kept at bay by the medication. I know that if I stopped taking it I would be sick, so I'd better not eh? I'm becoming aware now of how this is going to progress with every day getting a little worse until I'm so unwell I have to be admitted but I have to admit I still feel much better that I expected to. I think next week will be a challenge to say the least.

I had some Reiki at the hospital today which was nice and relaxing, and a long tube stuck up my nose at one point which was definitely not. The kids have sent in some nice artwork which I shall display prominently in the room. A Wasps supporter commented on my Worcester Warriors beanie and I walked past a very strange sight....a couple of air buskers. Just another day in the big city.

Day -6: Musical Rooms

We'll get onto the treatment related business in a moment. First the important stuff; my hotel room. This glum faced fellow is me in the room I slept in last night. There was nothing wrong with it really except that it was quite small, looked over the grubby area in the middle of the hotel and was decorated a horrid shade of brown. Oh and the beds were pretty small for a big chap like me. Cue amazing friend no.1 (for there are no less than 2 in this post) Andy B who just happens to work in the hotel business and just happens to know the manager here. He put in a call and hey presto I found myself upgraded to a lovely dual aspect suite with a huge bed and a very comfy sofa. Nik and I had a great time checking out the facilities and taking some silly photos which you can see here!


This is me reading Richard Dawkins in the living room!



And this is a rather arty shot of me pretending to blog with thanks to amazing friend no.2 JC who has sorted out all my technology and made it possible to be doing all this; hopefully even when I'm on the ward which is a wireless free zone.


The big bed...and complimentary fruit bowl! All in all I think you'll agree that this is a bit of alright. So I might have been well advised to spend more time in it enjoying the facilities. Part of the deal the hotel and the hospital have is that the patients staying here have to have a panic alarm (you know for when you can't work the air con unit or if the mattress is uncomfortable) and for this the room need two phone lines. AAAAAH! It only has one. "I'm so sorry" said the nice nurse who had come to install the thing, "but I can't let you stay here." :(

Cue frantic phone calls to the concierge to find a suitable alternative. Well I'm now exactly two floors down from where I was in a similar sized is not so nicely decorated and furnished room as the last but it's still pretty darn good I reckon. Pictures of the new abode to come but Andy and JC you are both top top blokes, thank you. I'm going to get some nosh now and will do a treatment post if not too knackered later!

Here We Go Then!

Sorry about the gruesome pic, but I couldn't resist having a pic of a picc! Yes it's day 1 of my transplant, but in transplant land this day is referred to as day -7. The day I get my stem cells returned to me is day 0. So before we get there I have a week of them tipping vat loads of poison into me via the now freshly inserted picc line. It was a procedure that I have to say I wasn't looking forward to one little bit, but it all went very well. They find the vein they want to put it in with an ultrasound device, give you some local anaesthetic and slowly thread the line up your arm until it gets to the desired spot, which is just above the heart. I went for a x-ray afterwards to see if it was in the correct place only to discover that the bloody thing has a kink in it. They've squirted a load of saline up it and will have another look tomorrow and if it hasn't straightened out they'll remove it and have another go. Just what I need! What it means is that all the meds I'll be getting over the next few weeks and all the blood tests that have to be done will be via this little gizmo.....so no needles, which has got to be a good thing.


In the meantime this is where I am at the moment, The Radisson Edwardian Grafton hotel which is just across the road from UCH. I shall be here (if all goes smoothly) until I get my stem cells back next week. The idea is that this is a better experience for the patient than having to spend the whole of the month or so this process takes as an inpatient on the ward. Of course if I get very sick then I'll be admitted immediately, but I'm going to aim to stay out as long as I can. Over the next week I shall sleep here and pop over the road for the chemotherapy and general daily check ups. I think it's a great idea. After I finish this I'll pop out for a walk and buy a few things at Boots and top up my mobile before finding something to eat. It doesn't feel like being in hospital at all. I fear all this will change tomorrow when I get the first of my doses of chemo and start to feel poorly. I'm just glad that finally the waiting is over and we're finally getting on with it. It feels slightly unreal at the moment (especially being in a hotel) but it's so far so good.