Sunday, 19 June 2011

One Step At A Time

Yesrterday was going home day. I haven't had any reaction to the drug so far and I've got the hang of the drug prep and pump change over so I was considered safe and competent enough to look at myself. Although glad to be out it is scary to be away from the safety net of my specialist team but the whole point of having this drug in the first place was to get my life back.

By midday I was being loaded into the car with all my stuff for a dash up the M1 and home. Fed up with hospital food we stopped off on the way for a double cheese burger, chips and coke. I don't usually eat junk food but this was the most delicious meal ever. Once home the drugs and accompaning bits and pieces were unloaded and dumped in the hall and then the great 'where are we going to put all this stuff' debate began. Unable to come up with any viable solution they remain in the hall. I was delighted to see my boys and of course the cats. Unfortunately I was unable to hug either son as Andrew still has tonsilitis and Laurence had the beginnings of a stinking cold so the cats got double loves much to their disgust.

The evening pump change passed off without a hitch and then bedtime. It is not until you have a good night's sleep that you realise how tired you are. Sleeping in hospital is difficult at best, it is never fully dark and there are always people coughing, moaning or talking and machines beeping away. To sleep in pitch black and complete silence was a real treat and I slept right through until nine o'clock.

A leisurely breakfast and the newspapers and then it was time to tackle the mixing of the drugs. With more room to work in and without constant interuptions I managed to prepare two cassettes in forty minutes flat. I'm still double checking everything, which is slowing me down but at this stage I'd rather be a bit slow than make a mistake that might put me in danger. I cooked a very simple pasta for lunch and it was wonderful. Maybe my previous lack of appetite had more to do with the food than the drugs. Fed up of carrying my pump around in my hand and disliking intensly the bag that came with the pump I spent the afternoon making up a bag of my own. It looks like a small shoulder bag and, if I do say so myself isn't a bad effort. It is only an experimental verson but now I know what I'm doing I can find some different fabrics and make a selection up.

Tomorrow it is off to the GP for yet another sick note, hopefully my last and then, if the weather is good, that longed for trip to the river to see the cygnets. And of course Wimbledon starts tomorrow!