Archives For Dean Eastmond

The 10th of September. 

Today has not been so terrible, in terms of pain, but I have still felt pretty shit all day. 

I’m still tired, from not sleeping properly due to pain, so I got up just before the start of Sunday Brunch and got dressed in a cosy jumper and leggings, because the weather demanded it. 

I have, again, not moved a great deal, but also have not crocheted at all because I just can’t concentrate. I thought, after lunch, that I might need a nap, so I went upstairs to lie down. I put on a podcast, curled up and closed my eyes, but I did not fall asleep. This is good; it means I am not ill! Just feel shit because I’m tired and in pain. Preferable. 

After coming downstairs from my rest, I watched three episodes of Bones that had appeared overnight, and tried some Hugo petting. I forced him on to my lap and stroked until my arm was tired. He must learn to enjoy it. 

The 11th of September. 

Another early start, but for a good reason. I met up with Adam this morning, because he’d come up to the QE to talk to some of the nurses about stuff Dean wanted to do. It was really good to see him and give him a big hug in person, as opposed to verbally via direct messages on Twitter. We talked about how it had been in the last couple of weeks, and at the end, and his incredible appearance on Victoria Derbyshire. How he’s coping, how I am. There are things that are being planned in his name that I am looking forward to seeing. His legacy will live on. 

He had to get going up to YPU, and I had to go home for lunch before my chiro appointment. Trine has managed to make me feel some relief – it appears one of the muscles on the right side of my back had gone into spasm and travelled all the way up (or down, I’m not sure which end it started) which meant all of that side was contracting. No wonder I was in pain. She managed to work some of it out, while I gritted my teeth. Thankfully it hadn’t transferred into my neck, so I just needed some ice pack treatment when I got home. 

Since then, I have crocheted some mice for the kittens to play with. Henrietta has appropriated an old one which is incredibly tatty, so now they have some more that aren’t falling apart. 

The 4th of September. 

Keeping busy. I had a reasonable sleep, thank god, and today I’ve just been trying to keep my mind concentrating on different things. 

This morning, I wrote up a blog post, and rang up Lydon’s to book the kittens in for their first vaccs. Mommy stood on Harvey’s foot last night and was worried that she’d hurt him, but he was running around and putting weight on it soon after, so I wasn’t massively concerned. And of course, I’ve started up another doily. 

After lunch, it was time to go to the vet. We weren’t going to try to take Henrietta, seeing as I can’t touch her and Mommy is only vaguely tolerated. Packed the two kittens into a carrier and off we went. They were more stressed by the experience than I expected, not even wanting treats when they were on the table. They both are pretty much heavy enough to be neutered, but their balls are too small so we’ll leave that a while. Got some decongestant powder for Henrietta and tablets for the kittens so that’ll be joyous to try to administer. 

Since we got back, I’ve booked a trip to London. An installation has been put up in Paternoster Square of the names of blood cancer patients to make blood cancer visible as part of blood cancer awareness month. It’s only on until the 30th so I’ve had to book a special trip!

The 5th of September. 

I got a message from Adam this morning, telling me to put Victoria Derbyshire on. I assumed there was just going to be a piece about Dean, as I knew she had spoken to him via Twitter. I was beautifully surprised to see Adam, Drew (Dean’s brother) and Josh (Dean’s friend and the co-founder of HISKIND) sitting on the sofa, ready to tell the viewing population about him. And they were so brilliant. Adam spoke so movingly, and was able to not fall apart. And people sent in really lovely comments about him – even in a short segment, it was obvious what an incredible guy he was. He will be loved forever. 

This afternoon, I’ve been crocheting and catching up on Nashville. Also we tried giving the kittens the worming tablets which didn’t really work, so we smushed them up and put them in their food, and put the decongestant powder in Henrietta’s, which she gobbled up. Hopefully she’ll start breathing a bit more quietly. Bless her. 

Haematology clinic in the morning. Good. I need more eye drops. My left eye has been bad for a week, and doing the dexamethasone drops twice a day isn’t enough. Back up to three, need more drops. 

The 2nd & 3rd; Dean is gone.

September 4, 2017 — 3 Comments

The 2nd of September. 

Tired. Got in last night about ten and I’m not sure what time I fell asleep but a long day in the wheelchair equals tired body. Back hurts a lot. 

This morning, I wrote about yesterday, which took pretty much up until lunchtime. I should have then put it into a blog post but I had not the impetus to do so. That can wait until tomorrow. 

Lunch was disappointing because M&S didn’t have any pretzels or cinnamon swirls, boo. Then I went upstairs to lie down, give my back a rest. At least my eyes have been less terrible today. No make up has helped. 

Then, back to crochet – some more wool got delivered yesterday and hidden in the porch (I ran out of purple, annoyingly) so the rest of my afternoon has seen me catching up with Bones and Celebrity Masterchef while working on the doily. I’m on the penultimate round now, and I really fucking hate Lesley Garrett. She is one of the most irritating people in the world, I think. 

I am yawny. New X Factor tonight, then bed. 

The 3rd of September. 

Dean is gone  

No, not gone. Cicero said the life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living, and those of us that knew him will never forget. He had such an open heart and a brilliant mind, and I feel so lucky that he took me up on my offer of cancer chat. 

Adam broke the news late this morning, and since then I have felt somewhat numb. I can’t talk about it, not out loud. I don’t want to be hugged. Then everything will spill out. Tears have come and gone, on my own. 

I just don’t know what to say. I feel like I have been punched in the throat. Since I heard, I have buried my head in crochet, and have finished the doily. It’s enormous. Where it will end up living, I don’t know. I was going to give it to Grandma but I’m not sure there’s space for it in her room. 

At least there is some comfort to be taken in knowing that his agony is over. I wish it hadn’t been this way, that his death wasn’t the reason so many people are talking about him today. He deserved more. 

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The 21st of August. 

This summer has been such garbage. Last night I had to have my blanket on top of my duvet because it was so cold. I am wearing a polo neck jumper in the middle of August. Ridiculous. 

This morning I did a blog post which took forever to upload – I think I need to look at the app I use because I’m fairly certain that’s to blame. Spent a lot of time sitting with the kittens – still no joy from Hugo or Henrietta, they don’t want to talk to me. I think Hugo does want to explore, he’s just super timid about even leaving the cage. 

After lunch, I went to the QE to see Dean. When I arrived, a doctor was in with him, but Orlando was hanging around the nurses’ station so we went to the kitchen for a catch up. He was fascinated by my wheelchair, and I made him feel old because I told him about the decade anniversary. Dean wasn’t good – it is really hard to get his pain under control and until they do, he can’t have any chemo (if that’s what he decides he wants) or go home. He was making the small pain noise that I have made myself many a time. It’s involuntary and it means it’s really bad. I wish I could make it easier. I can’t bear to think of him like this. 

The 22nd of August. 

It would be so nice to wake up and not hear Donald Trump’s voice on the Today programme. It’s such a crappy way to start a day. Ugh. 

Morning was breakfast, bit of kitten petting and putting some crocheted goodies in the post for Peter and Sophie. We went out at half eleven because I was meeting Sadie for lunch at the Cereal Killer Café at twelve. Incredibly, she actually arrived before me. That never happens. It took us a long time to decide on what we wanted, despite us both having looked at the menu a lot online before going. I eventually went for the Chocopottomus, which is Coco Pops, Krave, and a Kinder Happy Hippo with chocolate milk, plus I had cinnamon bun cookie dough bites on top. Oh, the joys of being an adult. I am now hungry again so cereal for every meal is probably not a viable lifestyle choice. 

We had fun reviewing last night’s My Dad Wrote A Porno, her recent holiday, my new kittens and medical exploits. We also were very bemused by the twelve (ish) year old boy near us who looked like he’d been plucked from Saved by the Bell – white t-shirt tucked into some very dad jeans that were belted. He could only have looked more 90’s if he’d had curtains. 

Since getting home, I’ve had to get changed because I can’t seem to dress appropriately for the weather. It’s too inconsistent!

The 3rd of May.

I have been putting this off because writing it down makes it real.

It’s been a pretty quiet, mildly shitty day. I still have this stupid dry cough which wakes me up throughout the night, although my throat is less scratchy now, which I suppose is a plus.

We went into Birmingham this morning so I could pick up my copy of the new Jeffery Deaver novel, The Burial Hour. I also needed to get a thank you card to give James tomorrow when we have our last ever appointment, and Mommy wanted a blank card to put a cross-stitch in but couldn’t find one.

This afternoon, I phoned Andrew’s secretary, Emelda, again, but he hadn’t got back to her and there were no spaces in his clinics until the beginning or end of June. At this point I got upset and I tried to explain about the wedding. I didn’t do it on purpose, but she then said she’d keep trying for me and I’d hear back as soon as she spoke to him.

Mommy then went to Grandma’s, and I watched the new Pretty Little Liars and started the book. Mid-programme, Emelda called me back, and I’ve got an appointment for 25th May, so I will “go to the ball”, as she put it. I didn’t tell her that really I need to see him much sooner because she’s obviously pulled strings to get me in there, but I’m going to have to attend the wedding in my wheelchair, on oxygen and with a giant, swollen arm. I am so tired of this. My hateful body.

The 4th of May.

Nothing like bad news from a friend to prompt a reality check. Dean had his operation on Wednesday to remove the tumour on his rib. That part went as predicted, but what the had not expected was to find new tumours elsewhere that weren’t visible on his scan four weeks ago. Obviously this has been a shock to everyone, so they don’t know what the plan will be. I am just devastated for him, for Adam, and his family. I know how it feels to relapse but he hasn’t even been in remission yet. He knows I am here, for whatever he needs, This is the worst of days.

Up until hearing this news, I was having a pretty good day. I don’t think I have coughed so much today, but I won’t get my hopes up about improvement just yet. I had an appointment at Black Sheep to see James to re-tone my hair, my last session with him! I gave him his crocheted monkey and a card with a rainbow sheep on – I thought it was the most appropriate. I was not there for so long today, he was just going over the colour again, so now I’m a bit more vibrant. It has been our best work.

Home briefly, then back out, to the QE for my physio assessment. They were very on time, so I had barely started reading my book before I was called through. I filled in a questionnaire about my pain, then a chap came to see me. We talked a little bit about medical stuff and my current limitations re: oxygen, then he wanted to see what I could do. He had me stand up and bend forwards and backwards, then sit on the bed and twist left and right. Apparently I am quite stiff when going backwards and left. I then had to lie back and do some stuff with my pelvis and legs. Basically, he can give me some exercises/stretches to try out for a few weeks, then I’ll go back and we’ll see what progress has been made. He was very impressed with my enthusiasm and determination, which made me laugh because I used to be so terrible with physios, always pretending to be asleep when they came. I learned the hard way that that is not helpful.

The 12th of March. 

I had a minor breakdown last night. I got very sad and scared about my current state, and had to be careful not to let the tears start flowing because that would have made everything worse. Infections can cause permanent damage, and I am really, really worried that I will not return to the way I was in November, which is the last time I remember feeling relatively good. If I continue to struggle so much every time I move, my life as I know it will change forever, again. I want to still be able to walk around my house feeling okay, able to go into The Glee and climb the stairs without being so scarily out of breath that I am frozen in my seat because even thinking about anything else seems to make it harder. If I have to keep using oxygen at home then we are going to have to stop fostering kittens, because they will play with and chew up the tubing. Then, if I can’t foster, I certainly don’t want to be in charge of homing anymore because it would be torture. 

Basically, if I do not recover to a satisfactory degree, I do not want to live like that. But I don’t want to die. And I don’t know where that leaves me. I will talk to the doctors tomorrow morning, find out if we’ve grown anything specific yet, and if they think there will be any long-term effects from this. I suspect it will take a lung function test in a couple of months to know for definite, because it could take a good 6-8 weeks to really get over this. And I hate waiting. 

I had a nice break today. My only mero dose was at 2, and the doctors had said that if I wanted to go out between doses that was fine, so I asked Daddy to come and pick me up, then we went home where I had a boiled egg and soldiers for lunch, and Mommy washed my hair. It has needed doing for at least a week, so it is nice for it to feel soft and fluffy again. 

Mommy and I came back at two, when I had my mero, and the nurse was very keen to start weaning me off the oxygen again, despite the test the other day. I agreed to swap to the low flow meter, so we can bring it down in smaller increments. Started at 0.8 litres and that was okay, then at six I came down to 0.5. I don’t feel very comfortable, but my sats are 99/100, so I’m okay, and I’m going to persevere. When I started on one litre, I felt like this, and it got better, so I’ll try. I’ll still have the small cylinder on 1 litre when I move because I will definitely need the extra then. 

While I was at home, Mommy made cinnamon swirls! We are so basic – she happened to see cinnamon swirl dough in a tin, which is literally a can of dough that is about five inches long? You open the can, and slice up the length of dough, then bake and add some icing! I haven’t had one yet though – we have brought them to hospital and I am going to have one with Dean tomorrow as he’s coming in for some chemo and is going to come see me beforehand. He is also an enormous cinnamon bun fan so it is only right that I share. 

The 13th of March. 

I had a very quiet but productive morning, and a very busy and fun afternoon. It’s been pretty nice. 

I decided I should really update my blog, because I’d been putting it off until I could be bothered to type up what I wrote for Mommy’s birthday surprise day, but it had really been too long of a hiatus for me to carry on procrastinating. There wasn’t actually as much to write up as I thought, so it wasn’t too intensive. Uploading the photos took a little while because of the WiFi, but one can’t expect miracles. I have been writing my journal updates in the Notes on my phone since I was admitted, because it hurt my arm too much to physically write when I first had the chest drain, so I have just carried on since then. Plus it made it quicker when I came to actually do the blog posts. I still have to write them into my diary but that can wait. 

With six posts to do, that took pretty much my entire morning. A different doctor is on the ward this week, Dr. Khan, but he hadn’t got much news – still nothing specific has grown, the pneumonia test that they sent off to Heartlands hasn’t come back yet but apparently it sounds like it could be that from my symptoms (I really don’t know anymore), and they would take some more bloods today to see what my CRP is doing. I’ve checked but they’re not back yet. 

Dean was planning to come and see me at midday after he’d been admitted for chemo, but things were hectic on YPU so he was delayed. That was fine, I just sat and did some crocheting until Vicky arrived at half past two with coffee and hugs. I spent a lot of time explaining what has been going on because she only had my instagram to go on, and we were amused by the doctor coming to take my blood and being surprised by us both knowing so much medical language and being so aware of how this all works. It happens when it’s been your life for so long!

Dean appeared at my window just after half past three and couldn’t stay very long as he had to go back to start his chemo, but I gave him a swirl and he gave us both copies of the magazine he has just launched (it’s called Hiskind and yes he has launched a magazine while having treatment for cancer he’s fucking amazing). We had a little bit of chat but he’s going to come back tomorrow because he’s only on fluids during the day. 

Vicky left about five, and Mommy had arrived by then. Oh I forgot, I was also dropped in on by Philippa and Kirsty while both Dean and Vicky were here, so I have been quite the social butterfly! 

I am doing this as University Challenge has started and hearing the voice of Monkman made me sit up with excitement. I think he is even better than the guy who wore the leather vest.