1 month home from hospital!


I’ve been at home a month now.  That’s only half the time I spent in hospital.  It’s been slow but I’ve enjoyed the freedom and my progress shows it.


I spent the first week at my mother’s house reintroducing myself to real life.  Showers were taken seated because I couldn’t stand longer than a few minutes.  My legs weren’t strong enough and I had to push myself off the loo with my hands.  I took lots of naps and ate plenty of tiny meals.  Milk has become an issue.  I suppose my stomach’s still settling after all the ops.  Interestingly, I’ve noticed daily improvements which is encouraging.


By the end of the first week, I went home.  I drove myself the short distance to the post-op appointment.  I was still reeling with the excitement of being able to be out doing my own thing rather than trapped in a hospital room.  A small wall in the parking lot didn’t seem like a big deal until I tried to hop over it and my leg nearly collapsed under me.  By the time I arrived, my heart was pounding in my chest and I was out of breath although I’d been walking at a fraction of my normal speed.  It was a wake-up call of how far I still had to go.

Part of the furniture

The furniture’s changed and been re-arranged but there’s a distinct smell about the Oncology Centre that rushed me back 20 years.  I hadn’t expected it and, scared and panic-stricken, I choked back a few tears but lost them when I got to the doctor’s office.  At 57kg, my weight was low but I was given the thumbs-up to start with chemo.   I was given a tour of the “new” centre which was a lot to take in given the clashing of old and new mental/visuals.  I battled to focus when I was told about a port they recommended I have implanted.  Another procedure?  So soon?  I wasn’t sure I could handle it.  I battled with the needle-prick as I had blood taken for testing.  I felt thoroughly processed by the time I Ieft like a cartoon character popping off an assembly line it’d fallen onto unexpectedly.  I’d been totally unprepared.  I didn’t think I needed to be.  How arrogant.  I’ll not be arriving at the first treatment alone; that’s for sure.

Hanging around
The doctor’s concerned that I’ve been driving.  I’ve been told to stay away from work and crowds because of a risk of infection in my weakened state.  I can manage that.  I tire easily anyway.  More tests – kidney function, CT scan, a port insertion procedure, and I’m good to go.


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