Hello all,
Back from my stint in hospital now. The hospital was lovely, my own lovely room and bathroom and the food was tremendous so I have absolutely no complaints at all. It really is incredible the difference between private care and NHS. The time the doctors spend with you and stuff really makes a big difference. Before my ERCP I had one of the team come in and see and the anaesthetist to chat through things. The anaesthetist was a curious one, she was about 65 and very posh and just....curious. She was canny like. Eventually got taken down and settled in. Quite scary when all the equipment is being readied and stuff. But oddly comforting, as I have suggested before. I was given a mega painkiller first which made me feel very pissed/stoned before the proper stuff went in. I didn't go off straight away, she said 'goodbye' to me but I was still awake about 20 seconds later. Then I was gone. I woke up with a fucking breathing tube down my throat, which was horrible. I felt quite distressed when I came round and I had a big oxygen mask on which I kept taking off. Took me ages to get out the words 'too claustrophobic'. I felt fucking terrible. I can vaguely remember doing two absolutely massive farts while in recovery. Proper earth shakers. Got taken upstairs and the missus was waiting and it was nice to see her. I fell asleep for next four hours and felt a good bit better afterwards although I still wasn't allowed to eat until the morning. Having the first sips of water was heavenly. My breakfast came in the morning, cornflakes, four slices of toast, omelette beans and mushrooms, grapefruit juice and pot of tea. Felt better after that. I'd had some news from a clinic in germany who felt they could possibly operate on me to cut this thing out. Talked to my consultant and unfortunately the cancer is on the move. This sort of cancer often remains localised for a while but sadly mine is a bit aggressive apparently. It's weird when you get told news like this, I just get this sudden flush of heat, I don't feel like crying just a quickening of the heart and this heat washing over me. He thinks surgery isn't really an option at the minute but if I get started on the chemo and it shrinks the tumours it might become viable. But there's a chance the chemo will do nothing (and this is chemo that isn't anywhere close to being available on the NHS, scary). In some cases it has killed the cancer but shrinkage will do me, it's all about getting the balance right with an acceptable risk for surgery, it's silly doing it for the sake of it as I'll just die from liver failure instead, but if the risks are acceptable I'll go for it. Weird to think this whole tumour is no bigger than 3 centimetres apparently. If the chemo doesn't work then I guess it just isn't meant to be and my time will be over. It all stands or falls on the chemo. For that to happen I need this ERCP I've just had to reduce my liver results to an acceptable level. So it kinda rests on the results of the ERCP and the chemo. It feels very strange to be so closely acquainted with possible death. It makes me think so much about things and makes you realise the smallness of your existence. Part of me is always thinking 'you'll get through this somehow Graeme' but I've come to think about the ending of life a whole lot more. And not necessarily in a bleak way although I suppose it's hard not to be a little bleak when thinking about leaving this world before I feel I've had chance to truly make my mark. But if it's my time then I have to accept with grace and calm, we all face it some day, which is something that I still struggle to get my head round. Death in general is crackers to think about. That's the power of your own consciousness I guess, to question and think about your own existence and to experience, to feel, to see and to think.
Anyway, I'll do more of a blog tomorrow, I'm off to my bed. |
