The Light Experience

Sunday 13th March , we are driving in familiar territory.  Steve is in the driving seat on the Audi TT, the roof is down and we are crossing the firth of forth with the wind in our hair. The familiar smell of the sea breeze.  I so love the convertible, I merely tilt my head and I can see the clouds roll in that stormy Scottish sky, no need to put down the window or take a break and get out of the car for a breath of fresh air.  We have the Bose sound system on at warp factor.  Steve and I singing all the familiar songs that come on at random at the top of our voices.  got to say all our friends will vouch for Steve and say he is a far better singer than I am.  This is not only a routine drive of recent.  I went to university in Dundee and Steve picked me up 31 years ago on the motorbike and we drove the exact same route.  I’m sure I listened to the same music and tilted my head and gazed at the clouds and made pictures and stories just as I did this Sunday.

The two hour drive  saw us entering the familiar surroundings of  Ninewells Hospital, Dundee.  I’m up here this time for a three night stay.  I will be attending the photobiology department for tests and treatment.  All part of the ongoing treatment for my photosensitivity. Just arrive in the ward and a smiling face at the reception desk peeks over the pc monitor. Hello Sweetheart, How was the drive up? Beds all ready for you, we will get you round, get you settled and then get the doc in to clerk you in.  She comes round from behind the desk and sees me to my bed.  Its so nice not having to explain who you are, the nurse recognises you from the last time you were in the ward.   I meet my fellow patients in the room, I am in a room of 6 of us. in my days in  we talk, share stories, I will do a separate posting on ‘life on the ward’  Steve makes sure I’m all settled in.  Makes sure all my clothes and pjs are in my locker.  My pump is up on my table and all my feed and giving sets are organised.  Steve disappears for 10 minutes, says he has to go to the shop for a sandwich.  He comes back with a book for me to read.  He knows I have my kindle to read, but he also knows how much I love to read a book, especially a new book, I’m a new book freak, I cant help but  sniff the inside of the book, the smell of it is something I will remember from my childhood and will always love.   I gave my lovely hubby a hug, walked with him to  the private reception area and had a quick snog.  Steve left to go home to Buddy and Bella.  I went to lie on my bed.  That night I got a visit from our friend, Susan.  That visit most certainly needs a posting of its own. By the end of the visiting it was time to sleep. Early start in the morning.

Its first thing Monday morning and time to go to photobiology.  The porter wheels me to the department and parks me in the waiting area.  I’m sitting there daydreaming, perhaps been there for all of 4 or 5 minutes when I feel the chair move and I hear a familiar voice talking at my rear.  Its Dr Sally Ibittson.  Sally is immaculate, such a beautiful, perfect lady.  She makes you feel at ease and talks to you not AT YOU or DOWN TO YOU.  She always makes sure you fully understand everything and usually runs late, since she gives everyone the time she feels they deserve.  Sally starts to wheel me through the busy waiting area, quite a challenge, she kept apologising and asking if I was ok, which I was.  We got to the consultation room.  We discussed how things had been, my current meds, and where we think things should be going.  It was decided we would do the same provocation test as last time, and do a few testing areas on the back.  If all goes well we will try a short burst in the photo therapy light machine, if all ok, we will get it arranged for a machine to get sent to our home for a period of time home treatment.    First things first the provocation test and some other lighting and mapping.  Sally wheeled me through from the consultation room to the treatment area.

As I arrived at the treatment/testing department Andrea the senior technician was standing in the hallway, Cup of tea, before you start young lady? don’t want your blood sugars dropping   She didn’t even have to ask how I take my tea, what a memory.  My eating habits have changed since last being in photobiology.  I have had Lavita fitted.  I can have half a cup of tea.  but I had to bolus 300 mls of feed down Lavita  rather than have a couple of sandwiches.  a wee tad more awkward fiddling around with syringes and flushing my tube with sterile water, but the wonderful staff make it all ever so easy and nothing ever seems like too much trouble.

Chat over, cup of tea drank, bolus feed in.  Body fully refuelled.  Ready for action.  Mr friendly technician hands me my gown.  knowing full well it will take me longer than the average human to put it on.  Me and co-ordination aren’t the best of friends.  As long as I take my time, I get there,  Steve said he has never seen anyone making such a meal of trying to get from a tshirt to a gown.  Once ive got the gown on the next challenge is trying to get on the chair.  Its a tall stool like chair.  For a 5 foot 2 inch person like me it feels like climbing a mountain.  Once I’m on the chair, its fine, its just getting up to the dizzy heights.  Although when I am on the chair my legs aren’t long enough to touch the ground, so my legs are left swinging back and forth.  The doctors come in and decide exactly where they want the machines to be lined up and for how long.  The provocation is to be on my wrist and various others on my back .  When you are getting these tests done, you need to sit or lie incredibly still.  It can also get quite hot, depending on where you are getting it done and for how long. The staff are fantastic and blether away whilst the testing is going on.  They do their best to make sure I’m comfortable at all times.  The provocation test came back positive fairly quickly .  By the afternoon the skin was inflamed, hot and slightly broken,  The doctor got the technician to take photographs of the wrist.  They also noted the results of the mapping on my back. The provocation test timing has been halved.  And the strength was reduced.  This test gets warm, every part of my arm with the exception of a square patch gets covered with towels,and  a special board,  I wear a pair of special specs to protect my eyes.

I need taken back to the ward from photobiology – it’s s fair wheel to the ward and I can’t do it on my own.  One of the technicians carefully steers me along the long corridors , up the lift. Gives us the chance to talk about today’s events.  And  the opportunity to chat about life in general.   The technicians are fantastic with me and build up a trustworthy bond.  It makes it easier for each time you go.  It can be a lonely scary place, even if you are only getting light treatment.  Having a familiar face in the staff makes me feel at ease.  The technician specialist that wheeled me up to the ward stopped at the nurses station and asked to speak to the nurse in charge.  I would like you to dress Elizabeth’s peg site and if you can, please could you either contact GI or a peg specialist nurse and get them to come and have a look at the site and advise on barrier creams, steroid creams and dressings.  They of course did refer me immediately and within an hour a nurse specialist was at my bedside.
Tuesday morning, up bright and early and away to the photobiology.  Wrestled with the gown, clambered on the chair and the docs have came in to see what’s what.  The results have shown that the photo sensitivity has definitely increased.  Sally has come armed with quite a few other doctors today.  We all discuss how I have been over the last few months.  It’s recommended I get an eight week course of phototherapy.  The doctors are concerned if I  got my treatment in hospital I would be at risk of catching an infection.  So I am getting a phototherapy machine delivered to the house.  It’s a fairly large machine.  Just over 6 foot tall and opens out to roughly 5 foot wide.  I’ve got to pay for the courier delivery charge to the house from the hospital.  The nurse estimates it will be approximately £300.  I will have to get the phototherapy treatment every year.

 

Dr Sally Ibittson wants me to have an experimental dose of phototherapy.  So I go into the phototherapy suite.  It looks like there are several white Dr Who Tardis’s – the room has an icy chill to it.  I shiver.  The technician placed a blanket over  my shoulders it’s the cooling fans.  The dose is to be a patch on my inner left wrist.   Because it’s only my arm I don’t need to go in one of the cubicles.  The technician wheels me to a chair.  I sit at it and get comfortable.  The technician puts a stocking bandage over my arm from my elbow to my shoulder and one  from my wrist bone covering my hand and completely over my fingers. Then a towel is wrapped over my outer wrist.  The phototherapy machine then gets turned on for 4 and a half seconds .
Wednesday morning.  I have a meeting with the lovely Dr Sally Ibittson and my photo dianogstic specialist nurse, Susan Yule.  We discuss the benefits of getting the phototherapy at home. The risks, side effects, etc.   it’s hoped  that getting eight weeks of phototherapy will build up my skin and greatly help with the photo sensitivity.  They did admit the first year is usually a bit of a learning curve.    I’m due to have my machine end of June.  I will need two or three days of training at the hospital.  Also need to make sure we get a setting for the machine.   Susan takes me round and let’s me see a machine similar to one that will be delivered to me.  She tells me all about the machine and what to expect at home.  It gives me a really good insight into what lies ahead.

It’s a short stay for me this time,  my hubby picked me up at 1pm on the Wednesday.   As always the staff at ninewells always took fantastic care of me. 

The Pups Birthday

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Bella feeding the contented puppies

 

The 1st of March 2015 was a rather eventful day in our house.  Our loving Labrador, Bella gave birth to eight puppies.  Ever faithful Buddy looked on as she delivered each individual pup.  One year on and we are still in contact with five of the owners.  We hear how they are progressing.  It is a wonderful feeling to know that you helped delivered these little guys into the world and now they are part of another family.  We get to know what joy they are bringing to others and what their role is now they have left the nest.

 

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Buddy looking after Gunner before he leaves the nest

 

 

March 1st 2016 celebrated their 1st birthday.  I sent a message to the families to say happy birthday to the dogs and hope that they were well.  I got messages and pictures back.    It makes me feel good to know that the dogs are loved and well cared for.  And I am more than happy to be in touch and have made new friends through our dogs having a litter of puppies.

 

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Kai eager to get to his birthday cake

 

 

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Kai’s Birthday cards

 

Kai had a birthday party, with dog friends invited.  Kai got presents, cards and cake.  A lot for a one year old dog.  ‘a couple of the pics from Kai’s party. He had a great time, ran rings around everybody. Was hard to get some pics with the bedlam going on. He had 3 doggy friends in all going bonkers lol Wee Millie the cocker spaniel is knackered.  He’s totally spoilt but we love him to bits.’ Kai lives with a lovely couple who keeps up updated on his progress.  He is a lucky boy to be in this family; well loved and will always come first. You can tell by just looking at them that they were meant to be.  Kai fits into his home so well. He sits on the sofa, looking around like lord of the manor.

 

sandyspider                    sandy

 

Sandy went to live with a couple with a little girl.  He is loved to bits by the family.  I got a message that said ‘Hi Elizabeth we are all doing well.  Nobody can believe that Sandy isn’t one yet because of his height.  He has the square nose like his Daddy.  We will have to bring him to see you all, but will ring first.  This photo was taken at Halloween, he loved his spider, it only lasted a day.  Sandy loves cuddles and up at the school he barks if people don’t come over and pat him.  He’s a case, he patrols the back garden and barks if he sees something he is not happy with.  He loves the trampoline, you should see him and Aimme jumping on it, they are great pals’

 

Jake is a lovely Labrador that lives with his human parents (who love him very much) and two pussy cats.  He is a cuddly dog, who loves to be pampered and snuggled in.  He is like his parents and is quick of the mark in running around and playing with toys,  but equally likes to lie in and if you didn’t know them better you would think they were lazy and thought they were lying there all day.  Jake likes to tell you what he wants.  His folks sent me a message with a photo of him sitting up straight and it said  ‘that is the baby telling you he wants this’ and then a photo of him outside.  Clever dog.

 

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Jake sitting waiting to go gout for his walk

 

 

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Jake standing ready for the off…..

 

 

 

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Gunner and Brandy playing at the Beach

 

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Louise & Gunner

 

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Gunner & Keith

 

Gunner, is the only fox red Labrador exactly like his daddy, some of the others have similarities, but Gunner is a dead ringer for Buddy.  Gunner has gone to live with Louis & Keith, they have a boxer bitch, Brandy and a couple of cats.  Gunner has fitted in perfectly.  Louis and Keith have become our friends.  They pop down to see us, with and without Gunner.  Louise and Keith came to see me in hospital, they couldn’t bring Gunner so brought a beautiful framed photo, this fair cheered me up and let the staff see one of the beautiful dogs Bella has given birth too.   Its been a win win situation.  Louis and Keith take Gunner and Brandy on lots of outings, the dogs enjoy lots of walks .  Gunner is also getting trained to the Gun with Keith.  Merely as a hobby, both man and dog appear to love it.  Gunner is very protective like his Dad and follows Louise around the house and sits and waits whilst she has a bath, etc.

 

Harley, had a lovely birthday.  He got a cake and presents, as you can see in the photographs.  Harley left us at 6 weeks old.  He gets well cared for by Sally.  He has another Labrador as a companion, his name is Cooper.  Sally has taught Harley well, he does what he is told, gives paws on command, rolls over, does all sorts of wonderful tricks.  Harley loves long walks and running around with some of his other furry friends, but I think most of all he likes to get very wet and muddy: just to keep Sally on her toes.   We have kept in close contact and I get kept up to date with all his progress.  Sally has brought Harley back to ours for a visit.  They have visited to meet up with Gunner and had lots of fun with their parents, Buddy and Bella.  And they have visited for a quieter visit, just Harley & Sally.  Where Harley has had a cuddle and played with Buddy and Bella for a while.

 

harley              harley1

 

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It was a big decision for us to breed Buddy and Bella last year.  Would we manage with the pups with the way my health is the way it is?  How busy Steve can be for work? We talked about it at great length.  Then decided to let nature take its course.  They mated on 1st January 2015 and Bella gave birth on 1st March 2015.  I’m not going to say it was easy.  Once the puppies got to the three week stage and they were needing weaned onto porridge, it began to get a bit of hard work.  But the first three weeks, Bella kept them clean, fed them and to be honest you hardly heard a peep out of them.  When they started eating the porridge they were like little gremlins – yum yum yum.  Got to say though, all well behaved, and kept to their own bowls.  The key was organisation.  Steve’s cousin, Anna, from Suffolk, came to stay with us for one week, she was a great help, washing floors, feeding pups, etc.  Steve and I had most of the feeding and cleaning down to a routine, Steve did all the manual heavy work.  I will admit it was hard work, however it was worth every minute of it.  The cuddles from the little puppies, the joy and warmth we get from both Buddy and Bella.  When the day came for the new owners to pick up their pup and take it home, you could see how excited they were, the looked at the puppy all doe eyed and eagerly told us of the items they had purchased for their new addition and how they could not wait to get home and show them their new bed.

When my phone texts or I get an email to say how well one of Bella and Buddy’s pups are doing I feel a sense of warmth and a big grin comes across my face.  My dogs are special to me and I’m so pleased their children are have a special place in the hearts of the people they live with.  I’m so happy we had a litter of puppies.   The company of my own dogs, the new friends and hearing how the pups are getting on and developing into fully grown dogs is great for me.  There are days I don’t feel well enough to go across the door.  The contact with others, communicating, happy stories – it all makes the world a better place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Naming – What do you think?

I have had many suggestions for the name of my gastrostomy tube.  I’m so grateful to everyone for all the effort that has been out in.

A fellow blogger, Elaine, has gave me a name that I’m rather struck on.  The name Lavita, which means life.  Rather apt.  For me the tube gives me a better quality of life (when I don’t have sepsis, or any other infection that is).  It provides me with my essential nutrients and vitamins – my daily steak and chips or fresh fruit salad if you get my meaning.  For many people with a tube it is an essential lifeline and the only source of nourishment.

The name I have chosen is Lavita.

 

Lavita meaning life.

Suggestions and comments welcome 💕💕



Help! My gastrostomy tube still has no name

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With all the hospital admissions since my gastrostomy insertion.  I have neglected to do something rather important.  Name my tube.  This is a task I would normally have done almost immediately after getting in in.

So I’m asking for HELP –  I’m looking for ideas for a name for my gastrostomy tube – you know my feeding tube that goes into my stomach.  All name ideas greatly appreciated.  I will collate the names and then make a decision.

 

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My tube is essential to me.  It’s became part of me now.  And the the routine we go through has became the new normal. For me the tube is so very useful, it feeds me my special formulated feed through the pump 10 hours through the night, for 8 hours of that I’m in my bed, I’m pump fed 3/4 hours in the morning and 3/4 hours in the afternoon.  I also bolus feed through a syringe.    My feed provides me all my essential nutrients and vitamins, as well as calories and energy.  Both pump and bolus feeding help with my malabsorption and gaining weight.  If my gastrostomy tube was a human being on the benefit side it would be a generous provider.

There can be a downside.  It appears to have a mind of its own.  It leaks at time.  I get infections, which at times gave caused me horrific pain, hospitalised me and I’ve needed IV antibiotics.  The tube needs to be kept clean.  Disposable parts need changed.  If it were a human being perhaps I would say it was high maintenance.

Please feel free to comment and suggest a name.  I’m so looking forward to NOT calling it tube.  Can’t wait to read your thoughts.

Back home and boy does it feel good

I’ve been out of the hospital for 10 days.  It’s been a mixed bag of a week.  I’m feeling ever so much better – with worse episodes in between, if that makes sense.  The good periods make the unwell, sickly and painful events bearable.  I can go for that.

My amazing district nurses have been coming in and changing my dressing, cleaning and observing the leakage area.  Applying the appropriate creams; hydrocortisone first on the affected areas and then my saviour – the wonderful cavilon.  No matter how busy the nurses are they always make you feel important to them and they make time for a natter.  I have a vision of them chasing their tails by the end of the day.  Especially with gabby folk like me.

Community dietician was in for a visit this week.  With a student in tow.  This time the student was a mature male.  Keen, thoughtful and already has a good bedside manner.   My usual dietician noticed an improvement in my skin, but was concerned that I looked ‘wabbit’ I came back with I think I may have sofa and daytime TV fever.  We agreed perhaps a wee drive in the car and if I felt up to it, a small outing with Steve and the dogs might be just what I need.  Steve wasn’t too keen on me taking on something too ambitious – I agreed. The Labradors excitedly got into the car wagging their tails frantically.  Buddy panting heavily, Bella looked at him as if to say why are you making all that noise – you would think we never went anywhere.  I turned and looked at him and said don’t get too excited Bud – you never know, you could be going to the vet.  Bloody crazy we are; having conversations with dogs.    We stopped near Garvald and let the dogs out for a run.  They loved it.  Muddy puddles especially.   The cool crisp air was wonderful.  Watching the dogs run with endless energy is a beautiful memory.  The short walk for me was a tiring one, every step sapped me of energy.  However the walk did have its benefits.  My brain was re-energised.  The outing filled me with a feeling of warmth and happiness – I was with my hubby of 29 years and my loyal Labradors.

 

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Intravenous Antibiotics is The Way Forward

It’s Saturday afternoon, I’m having some quiet time with my family.  My mobile telephone rings.  I instantly see it’s a call from the Western General Hospital in Edinburgh.  I answer it, it’s the little lovely young GI doctor, Alex, I saw on Thursday.  Your swab results are in.  I hear him say.  The oral antibiotics you are on at present are the most suitable for this infection.  But I think after the length of time you have been taking them we should think about you coming into hospital and going on an intravenous antibiotic. What do you think?  I quickly gather my thoughts, and immediately my mind is racing and I am weighing up in my head hospital versus home.  We chat on the telephone.  And to be honest I am not truthful about how awful I’m feeling, or how much discharge is coming out of the site.  After a discussion , we agree I will stay at home and see my GP on Monday, with a promise if I feel worse before my GP appointment I contact the hospital and go in.

A couple of hours later my professor from Thursday emailed me in response to my husband and sister doing a fundraising run for The Ann Edgar Charity.  I replied saying thanks – at the same time I took the opportunity to let him know the GI doctor had phoned me.  I also told him his I really felt; which was pretty awful.  I was breathless, sore, leaking discharge and had palpatations.  I wanted to curl up on the floor.  Prof sent me an email back and said I should come into hospital.  Steve took me into the hospital.

I arrived at the acute receiving unit.  Waited no time at all.  The nurse came and got me and Steve checked me in with the receptionist.    The nurse told me what would happen.  I would get bloods taken, give a urine sample, get a cannula put in.  And then get transferred to a ward.

I was to get routine blood tests and blood cultures.  Oh boy did they have trouble getting blood out of me.  Every time the nurse had  vein in her clutches it vanished.  It was like they were playing a game of hide and seek.  I’m sure for the medical staff it must be very frustrating.  It wasn’t as if I didn’t have any blood to give them.  On one of the attempts the nurse managed to secure the vein, then the damn thing wriggled away.  As she took out the needle blood ran down my arm soaking the sheet and the hospital gown I was wearing.    Eventually the second nurse managed to get the routine bloods taken.  The cannula proved an impossibility for two nurses, they both gave it three attempts.  They apologised as if it was their fault.  My veins are awful and even the phlebotomist has trouble getting blood from me these days so I pity the nurse that gets assigned to me if they are new to taking blood.  The nurse explained the doctor was on her way to give me a full examination, she will also put the cannula in, as well as take blood cultures.

The lovely looking young lass approaches.  To be honest though on first glimpse she looked fairly stern and unfriendly.  If you were to judge a book by a cover I would have got it wrong.  She was placid, caring and made me feel at ease.  She explained everything in detail she was going to do.  The young doctor did all the necessary, she listened to my chest, took the the time and helped me to sit up from a lying position.  My stomach felt like I had done several hundred sit ups, every move more than ached.  The pain affected my mobility.   She gave me a thorough examination and then scoured my arms for a suitable place to insert the needle.  These blood cultures weren’t going to take themselves.  Her head tilted to one side eyes scanning the surface of my arms.  She gently taps the bone at my wrist.  This will be sore, but it looks like the best place for me to take blood.  She inserts the needle  and slowly the blood comes.  Once the syringe is full, she transfers it into a glass tube and mixes it with a solution before sending it to the lab.  Now for the cannula.  That wasn’t  easy to get in at all.  It hurt, it took a couple of attempts.  I have got to admit I was pleased once it was inserted.   The doctor told me she wanted me to get intravenous antibiotics started and a dextrose drip.  She said I didn’t look well and thought I really needed to get settled for the night.   I was transferred to the ward, for the first night I was in a quiet room all to myself.   What I felt I needed was some feed and plenty of sleep.

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The plan for my hospital admission was to keep me on fluids.  Get the intravenous antibiotics going – give me a full five day intravenous course.  While I’m in monitor my blood sugar levels.  Regularly check my blood pressure, temperature, sats.  My temperature was elevated when I was admitted.  My blood pressure has a tendency to drop like a stone.   The nursing staff were outstanding , nothing was too much trouble. They were always busy and the ward was full however, I was still given the time I needed and never once felt awkward when asking for anything.  The staff all seemed to work together , they looked happy in what they did.  It made the stay much easier.  I got a ct scan whilst I was in hospital.  The radiographers were lovely – I was feeling really rubbish that day.  They pushed the wheelchair close to the bed and elevated it to the most appropriate height.  They took an arm each and helped me onto the scanner.  I shuffled my arse till my head was at the pillow.  The radiographer put a pillow under my knees.  In came the radiologist.  He introduced himself, shook my hand and asked how I was.  He looked at my gastrostomy tube.  We discussed the scan. Many people drink liquid before ct scans – he told me he was going to put liquid through my gastrostomy tube and while the scan was running he would administer contrast through my cannula.  I told him the gastrostomy tube has a catheter tip.  He carefully linked up the syringe to my gastrostomy tube and pushed through the fluid.  The staff were brilliant.    They are put under a lot of pressure in the scanning/X-ray  department. Trying to fit in emergency scans between routine appointments.

My stay in hospital was made much easier by the kindness of staff.  I met some interesting patients whilst I was in.  All made the time go quicker.

I was in hospital for 6 days.  I got my final intravenous antibiotic at 5.40pm.  At 6.30pm I got changed from my pjs into warm clothes.  By 7.00pm I had my discharge letter my medication, was all packed and Steve had arrived to drive me home.   I was so happy to be going home.  I couldn’t wait to get home to our cosy cottage.

 

 

 

 

 

Where Did The Month Go?

Already its the 26th of January.  Not many days left and it will be February.  For me January has mixed emotions.  The 24th of the month is my beloved Mother’s birthday.  She passed away in the August – the first birthday she wasn’t here for was her 80th.  She was so looking forward to turning 80.  My Mum loved life to the full and all of us that surrounded her.  There is not a day that doesn’t go by that I don’t think about her.  We share many conversations about Mum and many a time we talk as if she is in the next room and is going to walk in at any time.  I guess I wish this to be true.

I have had Steve for company a few extra days this month.  I’ve had a visit from my friend Louise, visit from Jennifer & Scott.  Hazel has been down a couple of times.  Both our sons, Tony and Stuart have visited and stayed for dinner.  These visitors keep my spirits up, and turn my frown upside down, make me laugh and share stories.  The clock hands appear to move even faster than normal when visitors come to Nisbet

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Steve has taken me to visit my Dad on a few occasions this month.  A couple of times I’ve seen my brother Brian and his wife Margaret at Dads.  I’ve also met up with my brother Albert and niece Chiara and my sister Helen &  nephew Brandon, and on the last visit to see my Dad I saw Lindsay, Stephen, Sophie, Louis & Patrick.

We have managed a couple of social outings – entertained by The Domestics at The Dalriada in Edinburgh and met up with Susan and Ian from Dumfies and Galloway for a couple of hours.  We also met up with folks affected with NETS.  The Ann Edgar Charitable Trust is a Scottish Charity – it offers NET Natter Meetings once a month – which has became fairly popular.  The meeting on 10th January was busy and a few members were keen on the idea of helping out at a craft fair, raising awareness of NETS and carcinoid syndrome and funds for the charity.  One of the members, Barbara,  brought along a peg doll she made, we have since called her Ziggy Zebra.  This inspired me to make a zebra fabric memory board.

I haven’t been feeling too grand the blasted peg is still leaking, and when I say leaking it’s a tad more than a dripping tap that’s for sure.  It started to get bad nearly two weeks ago and get really painful again, my tummy is swollen like a football and the discharge a putrid offensive smell, resembling our septic tank.  My nurse took one look at it and said get the doctor to look at this young lady.  The GP saw me that day.  She took a swab of the discharge and blood tests.  It was a Friday – I felt awful.  I had a quiet weekend at home.  Monday morning at approximately 1130am the telephone rang, it was the GP, I have had the lab on the phone.  She said.  Both your swab and blood tests have shown you have an infection.  I will write you a prescription for antibiotics and get it to the chemist for you for today.  We had a discussion on the phone how I was feeling, etc.

One week later and the discharge is not any better.  Infact I will go so far to say it looks worse and the pain at times is far more than sore or uncomfortable its aching and sometimes almost unbearable 😦  My nurse is in regularly to change my dressings and see how I am.  How long the nurse is in to see me varies.  It depends how I am both physically and mentally.  All the nurses are always very thorough and look after you very well.  On some days the nurse gives you the lift you need.  This particular day she advised me to go back to the GP. Back down to the surgery for another appointment.  Doctor agrees it looks worse that the last time she saw it.  She thinks the best plan of action is another week of antibiotics in the hope it will lift the infection.  Fingers crossed it does.  If there is still smelly discharge once the antibiotics are finished – go down to the surgery and get it swabbed.  I started the second week on Tuesday, today is Friday – I have had 2 of 4 doses today.  No difference yet.  Really hope it clears up over the weekend.

It was lanreotide week second week of January so on one of my nurse visits she gave me my lanreotide injection.    This helps stop me shitting myself and cuts down the flushing on my face and neck.  My next injection is due this coming Wednesday and the nurse I like doing the injection best is off on annual leave.  I know I will be in very capable hands – but I cant help wondering who I will get.  I can see it now –  On that day –  my treatment injection will be laid out ready for the nurse to administer.  Bella will hear the car, think she knows who it is, wag her tail, run to the door, when she sees its someone else, she will run with her tail between her legs up the hall and onto my bed….

Despite this nasty recurrent infection its not all doom and gloom for the first month of 2016.  Steve and I have booked a week in Ibiza in June,  when my community dietican was here at the house for my 4 weekly home visit a few days ago we discussed how she can help with giving me a letter for the airline/travel company explaining the need for my pump, syringes, feed, etc.  I will also get it translated into Spanish. She is easy to get on with, very friendly and makes me laugh.

We also have Lindsay and Stephens wedding to look forward to.  This is a festival wedding – it is in June.  The week after we come back from Ibiza.

Steve and I will both will be celebrating our 50th birthdays:  Steve in June, Me in August.   We are having a party for Steve.  I like to go to a party  -just don’t like to have a party for me.  Its our 30th wedding anniversary in August.

Before all these wonderful things in the summer.  I’ve got to rid this infection, hopefully the hole will close up round the peg site.  I would love to get some more energy if possible.  I have a hospital admission in March in Ninewells, Dundee for 5 days for my photosensitivity.  Dundee is the only hospital in Scotland with a photobiology unit.  I am also scheduled to see Professor Martyn Caplin at The Neuroendocrine Tumour Clinic at The Royal Free Hospital, London. in April.

This week coming is busy enough: nurse coming in to do my dressings on Monday, Wednesday nurse is coming do my dressings and administer my lantreotide injection.  Steve has the eye pavilion hospital for a check up after his retina eye surgery.  Thursday – I have an appointment with my endocrinologist, Professor Mark Strachan.  Think I will have a rest on Friday.

Its been a mixed month.   At times I have been feeling really rotten and no matter where I have been I could lie down on the floor and lie in the foetal position.  There is nothing too much I can do about how I feel physically.  All I can do is take it easy, rest up when my body tell me to.  Mentally I try and keep myself upbeat and on top of things.  What’s the best remedy if you feel low mentally?? For Me  Keeping busy helps.  Going to Nets Scotland AECT Net Natter Meeting and talking to others. Having a warm bath. My biggest love of all – taking photographs.  Writing.  Baking.  I’m very fortunate, I find it easy enough to talk and say how I feel.  Its natural for everyone to feel like the weight of the world is on their shoulders at some time,  its how we deal with that weight that matters.

First Net Natter of 2016

Its a very wet Sunday in January.  The rain is battering against the window of our cottage as I rattle my fingers on the keyboard.  Nothing is going to dampen my mood today.  My devoted Labrador has his paw gently resting on my foot.  His gentle snore is almost in time with my feed pump whirring away as it installs nourishment into my belly.

In a couple of hours I’m going to leave the cosy sitting room and brave the weather.  Why?  To meet up with fellow patients and their friends and family.  This time one of the patient’s are kindly giving up their ‘front room’ for us all to have a blether and a cuppa.  What’s this known as – Net Natter.  We get together through the Scottish Charity The Ann Edgar Charitable Trust.

Netty-in-Kilt

Healthcare Company seeks CS Patients

Well we are 7 days into the year and I am feeling fairly positive.  We have had a trip to the ballet, booked a foreign holiday, we have a lovely wedding to look forward to.  Both Steve and I will be celebrating our 50th birthdays and our 30th wedding anniversary.  We will have our usual trips down to London for my hospital appointments: hopefully take in a show while we are there.  Yes a lot to keep well for.

My nurse was in today to clean my peg site and do my dressings.  We have come to the conclusion that we have almost cracked the timing of the feeding regime.  I’ve got my pump speed up to 150mls per hour and go through 2 litres of Peptamen in 24 hours, and bolus my other feed at 200mls per time.  Finally managing to get some oral consumption.  Not a lot, but something.  Getting the calories in is the main issue.  On top of the diarrhea and flushing symptoms I have with my carcinoid syndrome the drop in blood sugar levels and the malabsorption cause havoc. Hence the need for consuming so many calories.

Today has been a typical day, nurse in, hubby doing lots of chores, feed on, etc.  I’ve had some quality time to myself, got some writing done and some surfing on the net.

Whilst I was on the net I had a wee peak on Facebook, on the NetScotland page there was a posting that was of interest.  A particular healthcare company are looking for patients with carcinoid syndrome to interview.  Ideally interviews to take place by end of January 2016.  If you are interested in reading about this please click on the link below:

http://www.netpatientfoundation.org/2016/01/healthcare-company-looking-for-5-patients-to-be-interviewed/

I’m sure patient input will go a long way into assisting the education at the 13th annual ENETS annual conference.

zebraballet

 

 

Emotions 😀😁😂☺️😘😈

Im so happy to be home.  I feel free from the clinical walls of the ward.  When I walked into our home on the Friday evening I really hoped to myself this would be it, I would be home now till out patient appointments.  Certainly no more in stay hospital visits for a while.  I missed my home life. Since October my abode was a hospital address – it felt like a lot longer and I am feeling like things in my life are slipping me by.  Life is hard enough for everyone.  When you have a chronic illness you learn to live your life as a different ‘normal’ but when you have a chronic illness and something else is thrown into the mix – such as I was in hospital for all those weeks, or worse still when I also was so ill with the damn infection I didn’t know what day of the week it was.  Life gets even more difficult and complicated.
As human beings we all have difficulties to deal with in everyday life,  and it’s all difficult in its own way.  And sometimes one problem can lead to another.   Steve and I had our sons in our early twenties,  we had to be careful with money when they were toddlers, however, we did our best and they always knew they were loved.  We learnt a lot from that period in our life.   Some people have relationship problems.  Others it’s their job.   I personally believe the biggest stress on a person, relationship or a family is illness.  It can put a terrible emotional stress on anyone at a moments notice.  It can cause such upset and anxiety.  Anger.  Financial stress.  The worst feeling in the world can creep up on you: loneliness.  

 

Who gets lonely when sickness strikes?  Whether I’m at home or in hospital I have people around me – it’s still possible to feel on your own when you are surrounded by others.  At times you just feel no one understands how you are feeling or what this damn disease does to you.  I may be talking to someone and they hear my voice but are they actually listening to what I’m saying.    Whilst I was in the hospital I missed my home and my family terribly .  Although everyone in the hospital is in the same boat –  at times you can feel rather isolated and alone.   For my hubby loneliness came in the form of actually physically being on his own.  The duration of my hospital stay.  Steve was at home on his own with the two Labradors.  His routine was taking care of himself, the dogs, the business, and running back and forth to the hospital to see me.  He never felt he had enough hours in the day.  He never once complained about being tired but you only had to glance at him to see he was exhausted.   As he walked into the ward in a sluggish manner rather than his long confident strides, he had dark circles under his blood shot eyes. And as we discussed our day’s events he yawned several times through the conversation; quite unlike Steve, who is always usually full of beans and ready to take the lead.  After visiting at 8pm Steve would leave the hospital with my washing and head for home.  There would be plenty to keep him occupied.  Something on TV, house chores, the dogs, paperwork, returning the answer machine messages.  Steve would text me as soon as he got home,  quite often we would send each other several messages back and forth and chat as if we were in the same room,  one evening Steve video called me whilst I was in the hospital , it was great whilst I was in my hospital bed  I was also in my front room. Watching my dogs reaction as they heard me call their names was fantastic.  Steve and I are used to doing most things together.  So the reality of it is when Steve came home from the visiting he did all the necessary – but longed for it not to be needed.  And me to be home.  He said the old cottage was quiet and empty,  and despite him having so much to do he was bored.  Steve sent me a text one evening and in part of the contents was the words  the house is lonely, cold and quiet without you……..I miss you.   These words helped me get better quicker.  They made me feel wanted and I knew exactly how he was feeling.

The knock on effect of illness is huge –

well meaning people get in touch to ask how everything is.  Which is lovely, however, sometimes the added pressure of calls and texts can take its toll, other times they are just what you need.

Financially:  I could go on forever – extra trips to hospitals, parking, fuel, Washing, time of work – or no work at all.  Need I go on.

Upset and anxiety.  There are days you just want to cry, everything and anything you feel or say is wrong  for that moment.  That day you can’t  put your foot over the doorstep.

Anger.  😁

 


I feel I’ve been fortunate I’ve never been too angry.  Always tried to turn a negative into a positive.   And thankfully anxiety is not something that has got a hold of me.  I take every day as it comes and what comes with it.   I have learned to treasure what I have in life.  Be grateful for all the good things I do have, and believe me there are many good and happy events surrounding me.   Sure I can’t do everything I used to be able to do.  And certainly I don’t move around as quick as I once did.  I have adjusted my lifestyle accordingly.  What we used to do in a day perhaps takes us a week.  The outing, the trip to the shops and the visit to friends was once done in one day now I have to do things in stages and they will be spread over three days with a day or two in between for a rest day.    My pace of life has altered accordingly  – slowed down considerably.  Steve and I have wonderful Sunday afternoons together. And evenings by the fire chatting.  We take time for each other and converse.  And it’s wonderful, I love it.  ❤️❤️.   We perhaps now see things, do activities and sit and talk like we would never have imagined.  So while it can be lonely and stressful there are still many plus points.   For me I can honestly say that after all these years my hubby and I still really do love each other.  We have two sons, we love very much and we are grandparents .  My thoughts – life is for living and enjoying.  Sure it can be hard.  But isn’t it difficult for everybody at sometime.  I believe if something is worth having it is worth fighting for – such is life.

 A Further Eight Days In Hospital :  December 4th 2015 to December 11th 2015

We arrived at Edinburgh’s Western General hospital. I only sat down in the waiting reception for a couple of minutes and a nurse came with a chariot to take me to a bed and get me clarked in.  One of the consultants gave me a thorough going over.  Well the question is, how long are we keeping you?  She asks.  Steve prompts a reply well anything less that five weeks is a bonus, but it would be a preference to have her home for Christmas to share a Brussel sprout or two 😀 The consultant broke into a smile and said. No promises but be will do our best.  Within an hour and a half I had been booked in,  blood taken , urine sample given, cannula inserted, porter called and I was now getting wheeled along to the ward.

I get into the ward of four, the nurse helps me out of the wheelchair, and assists me into the bed.  She points out where the toilet and shower room is.  After explaining everything to me, she placed the buzzer close to me and said if you need anything press the orange button, and we will come to you.   I thanked her.  Steve put my things in my locker, spoke to the nurses, and then came back to see me, gave me a kiss and hug and headed off home – for Steve it had been a long day.    I looked round the room.  In the bed opposite the lady was sound asleep propped up with several pillows,  the bed next to her, the lady was awake, hello I’m Jess she calls over to me.  The bed next to me has an elderly lady who informs me she is going home in the morning.  She seems so happy about it.   All in all three elderly ladies, a quiet room, an exhausted me, hopefully I will get a sleep.

I did sleep, the staff were brilliant and the room mates friendly.  The lady went home and we got a new patient.  Jess and I talked away like a couple of school kids,  we laughed and joked and had so much in common – I’m 49 and Jess is 87 years of age.  Anne the lady opposite me was very deaf. It made conversation difficult.  My consultant came to see me and it was decided no food was to be taken orally, the only fluid was when I was taking my medication.  And it was to be minimal water when taking meds.    The lack of oral fluid takes a wee bit of getting used to.  Your mouth feels perched.  Your lips press together tight.  The nurses are very kind and supply you with endless nice cubes and foam lollies, you can clean, rub your mouth and or throat.  It really does help.  Mouth wash helps too.  The dietician came too and the plan was to continue feeding through the pej at 100 mls per hour for 20 hours out of every 24 hours.

Consultant visited next day – we chatted.  Talked about how we thought the hole may seal up. I told her about us watching supervet, the honey helping the cat.  My dedicated husband digging out honey out of the cupboard and unfortunately how unlike the cats jaw repaired fairly quickly my tummy was sticky and clothes sticking to me.  She looked at me and said Elizabeth what were you doing with the honey?   I laughed I explained Steve spread it on a half slice of toast and it leaked out as soon as it was in.  Thank goodness for that she said.  I guess she watched supervet.  He actually rubbed the honey on the cats wound.  I think she had visions of us rubbing the honey on my tummy – no such luck – ha ha ❤️

The nurse came to do my flush on my pej.  Oh boy was it difficult to flush.  It actually took 15 minutes to get 50mls of sterile water though the syringe.  The tube is so fine.  Attached to my tummy is my pej and then my feeding pump.  When I get my 4 hours of, this is when I want to shower.  I am still attached to the dextrose drip – for the fear of having a hypo on their watch.  But after being on TPN ive mastered being able to shower with such gadgets.   Once the flush is done. I prepare myself for my expedition.  The walk to the toilet is still a difficult one – I do it in a couple of trips, trot along carrying two towels and using the drip stand as an aid – made the first trip to the shower room.  Now I will head back and get my clean pjs and toilet bag.  As I turn round, the nurse is standing there with my things.  Don’t you try and do all that on your own, we are always here to help , she said.  Got to admit I was so glad she brought them.  Now are you going to be ok?  the nurse asked.  I nodded.  I put down my clean pjs on the chair, and started taking what I needed out of the toilet bag.  I did the needful, managed somehow to get my clean pjs on.  As I was about to put my socks on I could feel the beads of sweat running down my back, I eased myself up from the chair, and decided to walk back to the bed as I was.  I really needed to lie down.  As I was walking over to my bed the nurse came and took my toiletries from me, put them on my locker and then quickly walked back and took my arm,  my you are very flushed she said.  Oh it’s the heat of the shower, I just need to lie down a minute.  I said.  She walked me back to my bed, helped me back into bed.  I was so grateful.  That shower had just sapped me of all the energy I had conserved in my body.   Half an hours rest and then it was time to get my feed back up and running.

A young man walks into our room, now ladies who would like to put a request on the hospital radio tonight.  I’ve been in hospital many many times – in fact I wouldn’t like to think how many hospital admissions I’ve had, and I personally have never listened to hospital radio.  Due to Anne’s deafness she didn’t take part, however the rest of us all requested  something.  His parting words were have a go at our competitions.  Makes the evening fun.

Teatime came – the three ladies had their meal .  I stayed attached to my feed.  My body must be fed – my tummy doesn’t even rumble.  They had fruit crumble for pudding  – one of my favourites.  It must have sent messages to my brain and got my gastric juices working overtime; when it was time fir a dressing change my tummy had been excreting gastric juices that resembled PVA glue – just the kind that it makes up on its own.  My brain must have been saying to the belly ha ha doesn’t this food look good, smell lovely.  That old saying my belly thought my throat had been cut but instead of rumbling grumbling noises I get leaking discharge.  Then visiting – which I always enjoy when my hubby comes in to see me.  I get a chance to see how he is, and catch up with the outside world.  Visiting finished at 8pm.

8pm was the time the radio show started.   The three of us put our headphones on.  The music played, the dj chatted – we bletherered over it.  Competition Time.  It was a mystery voice, we listened, the lady, Avril,  in the next bed said its Chris Evans.  I shouted out the telephone number to her, she dialled it in her phone, hey presto its ringing she says. Oh my goodness I’ve won. She says, i have never  won anything in my life. That boost fair cheered us up.  We listen some more and sing along , the DJ tells us another competition is coming up shortly:  this time sport.   The question is how many people watched the Fifa World Cup world wide in 2006.  There are three options. I’ve heard this question before.  I know I have, the answer 26.29 billion jumped out at me.  I shouted out the answer.  Jess said phone.   I picked up my mobile and dialed the hospital radio number.   Engaged tone.  Try again.  Jess shouts over.  I try –  beep beep:  rather than a melodic ringtone.   The music stops on the radio, that’s it, the dj will announce a winner I’ve resigned myself to defeat.  The dj’s cheery voice makes you smile, he introduces a chap called Gary on the line.  Gary is calling from The Edinburgh Royal Infirmary.  He is asking for a request.  The DJ then mentions the completion.   Oh I’m no good with mystery voices.   He says.  It’s ok Gary, Avril won that competition, we are onto a new one.  He asks the question again.   I’m not sure  says Gary,  but at least I can just guess A, B or C.  At this stage I’ve got steam coming out of my ears.  My competitive streak wanted him to get it wrong so I could phone in.  He answers.  Oh sorry Gary, that’s the wrong answer.    Both ladies and the nurse that was in our room at the time cheer.   I phone again. It’s still engaged, I look up, both ladies in chorus –  keep trying.   So I do.  Finally it’s ringing.   He asks me the question.  And yes I get it right.   Competition winners receive borders biscuits.  My reward was different and I was pleased with what I won.  A mug and a key ring.


All that excitement had tired me out.  It was 10pm.  Time for the late night drug round.  The nurse came round and did all our meds.  The other nurse did our obs and then it was time for my next feed.  The familiar beeping of the pump to let me know the feed was finished and time to change.  The nurse came to detach the finished feed bottle, flush the tube, check the peg site and then restart a new feed for overnight feeding.   The nurse came armed with a syringe, and sterilised water.  She drew up water in the syringe.  Carefully attached it to the appropriate part of the peg and pushed to get water into the tube.  We looked at each other. The syringe was locked tight.  It wasn’t budging a cm.  she tried to push harder.  Nothing.  Her face was rosy pink.  This isn’t budging.  Does it ever get like this.?   She asked me if it often gets like this.  I answered with  its frequently difficult to push but never as hard as this and I’ve never not been able to put water through the tube.   The extension is a very fine tube and much longer than the original gastrostomy.    I think I need some help here.   She said.  We abondoned the feed.  She paged the on call doctor, since it was now 11.50pm.  The duty doctor came.  It wasn’t budging for them either.  A decision was made for the night.  A dextrose drip would go up to maintain my blood sugar levels and a GI consultant would come see me first thing in the morning to do something with the blocked tube.  And overnight the nurse would regularly check my blood sugar levels with the finger pricker to make sure the drip is doing its job.   It did.  

8.30am – the GI consultant was standing at the bottom of my bed.  Well trouble what are we going to do with you now    He said in his thick Irish accent.  I grinned at him and replied unblock this tube if you know what’s good for you!   He drew the curtains round the bed.  Then got the syringe and attached it to the tube.  He wiggled and pumped back and forth.  Nothing.  He detached the syringe.  He then pulled the tube slightly back, I could feel a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Oh that’s a tad sore  I say.  Yes you’ve gone a whiter shade of pale was his reply.  Just bare with me, please,  ive got a plan he continues to say.  So I lie there and wait in hope.   He pours sterile water into a beaker then draws it up in the syringe. He attempts to push some into the tube, it’s still not moving. He uses the push pull method once again and then all of a sudden WHOOSH!!!! Me and my bed are wet. Water and gastric contents on pjs, face, hair, and bed linen.  The doctor tries to apologise.  While laughing I’m thanking him for unblocking the tube.  Im so relieved.  And much more comfortable.   The nurse joins us and starts cleaning me up.  The doctor leaves us and goes attend to something else.  Half an hour later I’m in clean fat face pjs, got the hospital bed propped with pillows my blankets, iPad, writing material.  Looks like I’m all set for lying on a sun lounger by the pool in Ibiza not getting ready to try a feed.  The blue curtain round my bed slowly moves, a voice quietly asks,  is it safe to come in Elizabeth?    It was the doctor who just unblocked my tube.  However, he was more concerned with drenching me and the bed.  I tried to put on a grumpy stern face and say I was annoyed.  I couldn’t.  Soon as I saw him.  We both laughed.   Let’s try the feed then he said.  And so we did.  It worked.  For two days,

For two days all I had was feed via the gastrostomy tube.  The only thing that went down my throat was my medication.  On day three the tube blocked again.  This time there was no flushing it.  I’ve got to admit it was getting scary.  The consultant explained he couldn’t push too hard with the syringe for the fear of the tube explicating.  That statement terrified me.  There is only one thing to do – take the jejunostomy tube out.   Once he had actually said the words – take it OUT.    I wanted it removed NOW.  So I got my way.  It was removed while I was in my hospital bed in the ward.   Got to say it was a strange sensation.  There was a slight tugging feeling.  Then my tummy felt like it had never before:  the doctor carefully pulled the tube at a slow steady pace.  This wasn’t an experience I was comfortable with.  I lay still and thought it best to co-operate in any way I could.  My whirlwind tornado tummy had died down.  As he continued to pull the tube gently, gungie watery gastric juices ran out as the tube was easing out.  Then there was a click.  At last the end of the extension tube.  That was it out.  Thank goodness.  Doctor and patient both relieved.    

Time to Take the big step back to straight forward gastrostomy feeding  (peg) .  Sort the feeding regime with the dietician.  Start of on a very slow rate with my pump.  Just 20mls per hour for 5 hours.  Remember I haven’t been fed direct into my tummy and how much am I going to leak.   Five hours later – dry dressing.  I felt like a toddler that had gone all night without peeing the bed.  The nurse came to flush my tube and check everything is ok before increasing the rate.  And so the rate was increased gradually over the next 24 hours until I reached 80 mls per hour.  At this rate there is a leak when the feed goes in, but only a slight leak.  I asked the consultant when the hole would seal up and I would stop leaking his answer was how long is a piece of string.  I just don’t heal as well as some people.  And take much longer than others.

  • We had a discussion at the hospital and decided I could go home on my feeding regime with
  • The support of my district nurses coming in through the week to do my dressing, check the tube in general, deal with my skin, give me my lanreotide injection,  and any other general medical/physical/emotional support they always do
  • Community dietician coming to the house very regularly to check on feeding regime,  change my prescription if need be. Give instruction on changing connectors for tube. Take my weight.  Give us general support.
  • Regular contact with my GP.
  • Home support from my hubby, and boy do I get this ❤️

Well the staff at the hospital had been tremendous, my room mates were great company for a bunch of sick folk.   I even managed to get some online Christmas shopping done – I bought a couple of bits and bobs or Steve, Tony and Stuart.   But I’ve got to admit I was ecstatic that I was leaving them.  The thought of Our own sofa with my Steve, Buddy and Bella was just what the doctor ordered.   I yearned for my home life back.

Leaving hospital after five weeks in the ward

The decision to discharge me from hospital wasn’t taken lightly.  My tummy was still leaking when I had any oral intake.  My body was tolerating the feed through the pej which was the important thing.

The drive home was wonderful, I soaked in the scenery as Steve drove us home.  I appreciated all the countryside I had missed seeing while being couped up in clinical clean setting.  As we drove along the A1 I watched a ship sale down the river forth, a sight I normally took for granted.  You don’t realise what you miss seeing when you are confined somewhere until you are actually back out there again.  We rolled up in front of the cottage.  I was so excited to get in and see the dogs.  I had missed them so much.  As they had missed me.  Buddy and Bella were fabulous when I went in, no jumping up to welcome me.  They were so happy, wagging tails furiously sitting at my feet.then running up and down the hall.  Buddy getting my slippers. Tilting his head, looking at me – with a big grin on his doggy face and if he could talk I’m sure he would say “it’s lovely to have you home mum”. I’m a bit of a nutter and I imagine what buddy’s voice would be like if he could talk.  He would be rather proper, roll his R’s and mind his P and Q ‘s.  I’m sure he would have a fairly deep voice,  and always be ever so polite. After all he is a pedigree – ha ha.

Steve had the house just perfect.  Heating was on.  Everywhere was so fresh and clean.  He had bought a beautiful new duvet cover, pillows and sheets for our bedroom.  It looked fantastic.  And so inviting.  I was so tired I couldn’t wait to get into that bed.   Steve got all my things unpacked from the hospital; believe me there was lots to unpack.  It’s amazing what you accumulate in hospital and all the lovely gifts you get whilst you are in.    Once organised it was time to set up my machine and feed through the pej – this was my peg feed with a jejeustomy extension. Basically fed further down,  bypassing my stomach giving the hole a chance to heal.  The down side is the tube is very fine and very long so I can’t bolus feed only continuous with the pump.   The other is I have to feed attached to the pump at home for 20 hours out of 24.  However, if it helps me heal, keeps my blood sugars up and maintains my weight.  I will go for this.

We get organised, set the feeding pump up and settle down for the night. Tomorrow we have the district nurses at 10am.

10am that familiar hello it’s only me rings along the hall. Evelyn the district nurse with her smiling face plumps her bum down at my feet on the sofa.  How are you kid?   She asks.  We chat about my time in hospital.  She cleans my peg site.  Looks at my arms, –oh dear what’s been happening here? I explain when I was in hospital I had micropore on my inner arm for five minutes.  Now it’s all blistered and sore.  Evelyn puts a dressing on it.  She then gives me my lanreotide which is due that day too.  Full service on the sofa.  After I’m dealt with, buddy and Bella come through to see their favourite nurse.  They love her coming, as always buddy sits at her feet and tries to sneak a kiss like a naughty school boy.  All the district nurses that visit are very friendly, good, very caring and more than competent at their job, all with an excellent bedside manner.    And whichever nurse visits I know I will get first class treatment, well looked after, all my questions answered, and a bit of a blether.  You shouldn’t have favourites but I do, and Evelyn is one of mine.  She takes time to talk, always asks how Steve and the boys are.  Thinks of things and advises us on all sorts of useful matters.  Like organising my mattress lift, getting my cavilon prescription for my skin, taking letters to the doctors surgery and much more – if you say that’s brilliant thanks – she will reply it’s my job: well I know it is but I also know she goes that extra mile.  I can hear Eveyln’s brain thinking what would be best for Elizabeth.  She takes time to talk not only to me but to my hubby and sons if they are around.

 

 

The next day we muddle on together, Steve looking after me like I’m a princess, catering to every whim.  While my nutrition goes through my tube.  I still have use of my throat and swallowing mechanism.  It was recommended that I try and eat very small portions, no meals as such.  Mainly for my mouth hygiene. I also used mouth wash and foam lollies & ice.  Steve and I love the TV show supervet.  There was a cat with a wound that would not heal – bit like me – vet cured it with honey.  Gave Steve an idea.  Steve made a a slice of toast and put honey on it.  I ate half a slice.  Got to admit I really enjoyed it – I love honey – and the taste and feel of something in your mouth when you haven’t been well and have not eaten for a while is a wonderful feeling.  Shortly after eating the toast I checked my dressing, oh my goodness, dressing and tummy covered in honey.  I needed an appointment with my GP to discuss pain management, my wound, and a few other things.  Steve called the surgery.  I had an appointment for the very next day at 9.15am.

Up with the lark we get ourselves ready, or should I say Steve gets us organised.  Everything perfect to the last detail.  I’m hooked up to my feed.  He has put my pump and stand in my favourite Gorjus rucksack that Brian & Margaret bought for me in Ibiza – all tubes safely tucked away – no tripping zones.  Wheelchair in the boot, just in case we can’t get parked in the car Park and it’s too far to walk.

Great there is a space right at the surgery – sun shining on us at last.   The walk to the waiting room was a mean task – but I did it and I’m damn proud of it.  We didn’t wait long and then the GP opened the door and called me.  Just take your time – your pace.  She says.  In her consultation room we discuss my time in hospital, my pain mamagement and she voices her concerns that I am home with an open wound with leaking gastric fluid.  And still in some considerable pain.  She gently touches my inner arm and I winced.  My what’s up here.  I pulled up my sleeve.  And she saw the dressings that were put on two days ago by my district nurse.  It was decided to take a dressing of.  As we took it of together a horrid stench filled the air and a nasty looking greyish green pus ran down my arm.  The good thing was the dressing had brought all the bacteria to the surface, now we needed all the awful stuff to leave my body.  Oh dear we will have to get the treatment nurse to look at this now.  But firstly.  I will write you a prescription for antibiotics.  Once finished with the doctor, Steve and her took me through to Yvonne the treatment nurse.  Yvonne, carefully patched me up.  Cleaning my peg site, then using iodine on my arms then dressings to cover up all the infected areas.   Yvonne, as always was fantastic, not always fixing me up physically.  She listened,  gave me a willing ear – an emotional crutch for a few minutes just when I needed it.   Yvonne took me back out into the reception area and instructed the girls on the desk I needed to come back in three days.  She said to me see you in three days, but if you feel unwell get the district nurses to come to you and do the dressings, do not come out if you feel unwell.  And she said to Steve best get that wheel chair to get her to the car.   And so he did.

Day 5 home from the hospital I had a visit from my community dietician, Marion.  She deals with all my orders for my feeds, my pump, etc.   Marion visits me at home offering information, advice and general moral support.  When we started talking about how I was feeling, how much was still leaking out Marion wasn’t too impressed.  She felt it wasn’t too good for a home situation.  She discussed things with Steve and I and asked if she could talk to my gp and my consultant at the hospital and let them know her concerns.  Her main worries were I was not getting enough calories in to satisfy my hungry malabsorbing body and the leaking peg site was not ideal.   I don’t know what weight I will have, I’m after all only a mere dietician she said.   But leave it with me.  

We managed together for the next couple of days.  It wasn’t always easy.  I was fatigued.  Tummy sore. Peg site leaking.  The home phone rang.  It was our GP.  Elizabeth, how are you feeling?  I answered truthfully.  She came back with I’m just off the phone to your consultant at the western general hospital – he wants you to go into hospital today.  How do you feel about going in now?  It took the wind out of my sails, however I knew it was the right thing to do.    Steve packed me a bag, as he did, I wandered into the kitchen and gave my loyal labrodors, buddy and Bella a hug each.  I won’t be away as long as last – promise ❤️