Thursday, 12 March 2009

Who's Oscar?

What day is this where are we? How many days has it been since I last wrote? I feel like I am caught in the parallel universe that is ITU world........Over the last couple of days things have been a bit of a rollercoaster as is the way with intensive care. There is only one advantage to having been through this before and that’s knowing the beast a little. There’s a lot of medical detail to include here as his treatment is quite complex now so I will keep it as brief as I can.

He's currently stable and although he's having a lot of oxygen pumped in to him he is essentially breathing for himself. If you imagine that yesterday the ventilator was literally doing all the work, pumping his lungs in and out in a very regimental fashion and today he is doing that leg work for himself it's pretty good. I have learnt from the last time that these little things are positive signs, it's signs of his body taking charge. There’s a long way to go and the Doc’s are very wary of being too optimistic but he's making progress. When I went in today they had pulled back on the sedation quite a bit so he was responding to me and doing thumbs up. He’s uncomfortable and I know he’s pissed of at being in this position again but he’s a true stoic Scotsman. I find it amazing that despite the wires and the machines and the drugs and the discomfort you still get the sense that he doesn’t want to put anyone out, he still says “I’m fine, I’m fine”. I’m not sure I could ever be as brave.

As far as the Chemo goes the Haematology doc said (the unfeasibly pretty one from before) that although his treatment will have to be interrupted, it’s not the end of the world. The drugs are called Codox – M (sounds like a sci- fi thriller title to me), he’s had the Codox bit already and the ‘M’ part should have been administered tomorrow but with Chemo the bulk of the drugs are given at the beginning of a cycle anyway so the fact that he misses this ‘M’ part is apparently not brilliant but not completely detrimental to the overall picture. They also said that his nodes in his groin have gone down significantly which is good news, considering they were as big as Kitty’s head a week ago!I was asked if I wanted to put Paul up for the chance to be included into a clinical trial for a super duper oscillating ventilator (called Oscar). Not as scary as it sounds as there was really no risk to him being involved but being chosen to go into the trial is completely random (otherwise the findings are invalid) so after putting his name into the hat as it were, we were told he would not be involved which is a bit bloody frustrating. When you know there is a hot little ventilator down the hall with a cool name but you can't access it - it sucks! But I have to console myself with the fact that he got through the last period in intensive care without the help of sodding Oscar - I mean, who’s Oscar anyway!

Every time I travel up there, as I am nearing Tottenham Court Road the butterflies start dancing and by the time I jump off the bus at to Warren street they are doing a bloody Riverdance. But as soon as I am in the room with him there’s just the merest tap dance in my heart. When he was intubated again I will admit to being quite despondent at times but, since yesterday, I have felt more resolved that this is truly just a setback. Yesterday one of the doctors was talking to me and she was emphasising the seriousness of his condition and I was nodding gravely; but in my head I was saying (Yeah – Whatever!). I had to admit to her that, though I do not have a medical eye, as far as I can see he’s in much better shape than I have seen him before and whether it’s blind optimism or not , it’s all we have got most of the time.

I’m so tired I’m nodding off between sentences – never done that at a keyboard before – will write more tomorrow

H and P xxxxxx

1 comment:

  1. H, my chant yesterday, at every breath of my run ended up being: Yes – He – Can. Or sometimes Yes – P – Can. Doesn't mean I've deviated completely from Miraculous Recovery, but it seemed to go well with the pace of my run. I've taken to running up Parliament Hill and looking out towards the hospital, and spending time chanting various things to Paulie. One day I'll get to tell him how stupid I probably look chanting up there.

    Keep the fight. It's clear he is. See you Saturday my beauty. I love you. x x