The 18th & 19th; Even my palm was fat.

February 20, 2017 — Leave a comment

The 18th of February. 

Well, that did not last long. I had the compression garment on all night, as advised (and slept terribly as a result) and it had squeezed loads of the fluid into my hand, so much so that I couldn’t really make a fist, because even my palm was fat. I’m pretty sure this is not how it’s supposed to work, and it was not reasonable for me to keep it on, so Mommy wrenched it off and I’ll ring Chris on Monday. I think I just need one that goes over my hand instead of stopping at the wrist. 

Most of the day has been pretty quiet – it took me a while to write about yesterday, because it hurt my hand to hold the pen and I kept cramping up. I spent a lot of time trying to force the fluid out of my hand, back into my arm because at least when it was there, it didn’t hurt. 

Had to go out just after two, because I was needed at three to speak at the Marrow RAGM at Birmingham University, and had to stop at Jen’s on the way to pick up some Cats Protection paperwork.

The instructions I’d been sent on how to get where I needed to be in my chair were excellent, so I arrived in-between workshops and I got myself settled in the corner with a coffee. I read through my talk again and made some final edits, then I listened to the rest of the workshops. When they were finished, all that rest of the group joined us, and it included my friend Ellie who I met at Find Your Sense of Tumour a few years ago, and Jess from the focus group the other week! Happy surprises. Then it was my turn to talk, and that went fine – they paid attention and laughed when they were supposed to. There were a couple of questions, and I stayed for a bit of chat before taking my leave. Good day!

The 19th of February. 

Writing with hand cramp again, but today it’s because I’ve been crocheting with a tiny hook and tiny wool for too long. 

I had a much better sleep without the compression sleeve, and my hand is now back to its normal size, the fluid having redispersed into my arm. Still, it won’t last long, as I’ve got to ring the hospital in the morning and get us back on track. If Andrew’s doing his best to fix me, I need to do my part too. 

This morning, I got the blog post I should have done yesterday done, and found that all the skin on my feet is ready to peel off. It usually happens some weeks after GvHD, so it’s just that part of that cycle. They now require a lot of moisturising. 

After lunch, both parents were off doing decorating things, so I allowed the football to witter on while I crocheted. After a good three hours, three of the fingers on my right hand have decided that they’ve had enough. As much as I’d like to finish what I’m working on, I don’t need to cause myself pain. 

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