Archives For dental hospital

The 23rd of January. 

Much better sleep last night. Think it was helped by having my dressing gown available as another layer. I’m now sleeping in a jumper and pyjama bottoms tucked into thermal socks, under the winter duvet, a blanket and a thick dressing gown. I am the coldest person in the world. 

This morning I did the big birthday blog post, and fitted in two Cats Protection calls before lunch. I also printed off some stuff I want to look over before my Anthony Nolan thing on Thursday, all about the decision to withdraw the funding.

After lunch, I went upstairs and spent a very productive hour putting together the wooden Little My and sorting out my sock drawer. I have too many that I simply do not wear and had forgotten I have, so they’re all going. Yet my drawer doesn’t seem any less full. 

Becky came round with some more birthday flowers for me – she is better than was described, although she was still careful not to touch or breathe on me, which I was grateful for. 

I think another early night tonight – Women’s Hospital in the morning. 

The 24th of January. 

Bleah, early start. Not as early as tomorrow though – we will be leaving the house at 7, so today will seem like a lie-in. Still, I’ll be having some fun drugs that may induce a nap. 

I began at the Women’s Hospital at 10, seeing Dr. Robinson in the menopause clinic. Having read my book for half an hour, I was called in by Elaine, her clinical nurse specialist, and saw her instead. There was nothing I really needed to see Dr. Robinson about specifically so I just gave her an update on my general condition, we talked about my vaginal surgery, and I’ll just carry on with my current management until I see her again in a year. 

Had to make a quick visit to haematology clinic to have my clotting checked for tomorrow, and Dr. Ferguson had asked that I get a tacrolimus level done so I had them look at that too. 

I had to be at the dental hospital for half one, so there was no point going home to come back. Instead, we went into town where I got Mommy and Daddy’s anniversary card and some thank you cards, then we went to Pret for lunch. I got a cheese, ham and mustard toastie which was WAY TOO MUSTARDY so I had my coffee and cookie instead. Stupid pathetic mouth. 

Mrs. Richards wasn’t in today, but I saw two of her team and they were both happy with my mouth is, so no injections today. 

The 9th of January. 

No joy from the postman, nor is there anything on myhealth to show any upcoming appointments. Maybe on Wednesday morning we’ll ring a clinical nurse specialist, or try Andrew Willis’ secretary. 

I’ve had a very quiet day. I did a blog post, then iced three lots of cupcakes for Mommy to take to Grandma’s for her birthday. I got very chocolatey, sticky fingers. 

We had lunch, then Mommy went to Grandma’s and I went upstairs to do some extra moisturising because my skin has become really dry with this flare. Discovered that I could peel all of the skin off my left big toe, which was the worst affected area. Classic GvHD. 

For the rest of the afternoon, I watched two episodes of The OA while crocheting my jumper, but I’ve had to stop because the skin between my thumb and forefinger is so dry and painful. I need some seriously heavy-duty hand cream. 

This evening I have to prepare answers to some questions I’m going to be asked tomorrow. I’m taking part in a radio programme for BBC World Service about death. It will be more uplifting than it sounds. 

The 10th of January. 

Definitely going to ring someone in the morning about my arm – the upper arm has grown to 29.5cm in circumference (compared to 24cm on the left). This morning I did some Cats Protection admin and had a look through the questions for the interview this evening. I don’t need to prepare much, it’s all stuff I can answer off the cuff. 

I had a follow-up appointment at the dental hospital at 1.40pm, so we went out straight after lunch. I saw one of Mrs. Richards’ registrars who I’ve not met before. I explained what I was doing with the steroid paste and my concerns about it not staying where it should. She said that I’m doing it right, but it probably won’t stick because it is on the tongue. She went to confer with Mrs. Richards, who came in to have a look and decided we should put a little bit of steroid in the two sites that are being problematic. More painful this time, right in the raw tip of my tongue and on the top. Thankfully the swelling has gone down enough for me to be able to speak. 

Afterwards, we went into town so I could stock up on facewipes and toothpaste, and we went to Lush in search of hand cream. Ended up talking to the perfect sales assistant who has a similar problem so knew exactly what to recommend. Got a tub of Helping Hands. Let’s hope it does the job!

I’ve had the pre-interview for tonight’s 9pm one (another one cropped up for BBC WM randomly), and at half six the chap is coming to record me for the one about death. In between then and now, I’ll eat dinner. 

The 5th of January. 

I had a really good sleep, although some weirdly complicated dreams. One involved Victoria Beckham being a dog with glorious pink hair. As you do. 

Decided to ring the dental hospital again because the ulcer on top of my tongue is making it difficult to eat stuff. Chewing is hard. Unfortunately, the usual receptionist (the very obliging David) wasn’t there and the guy today didn’t understand that I am special and they always squeeze me in. Then it turned out Mrs. Richards wasn’t even there, but John Higham was in this afternoon and he could fit me in because he is an angel. 

I did a blog post, then continued with the crocheting of the blanket. I also went to say hi to the kittens after they all mewed at me while I was in the bathroom, and I ended up getting damp jeans because I sat on a bit of blanket that they like to knead and suck on simultaneously (I know, it’s disgusting, but they think it’s like their mum). 

After lunch, we went up to the dental hospital and saw John, who looked at my tongue, and didn’t really want to give me another injection because it is just uncontrolled steroid into the bloodstream, once it leaves the tongue, so instead he’s prescribed this steroid paste stuff that I have to put on. I’ve been warned that it is gritty and gross but I’m sure I’ll cope. It can’t be worse than the sensation of vomiting up chunks of your own dead stomach tissue into your mouth. 

The 6th of January. 

My arm is stupidly, uncomfortably big. I can only just get a jacket on now. I really hope this venogram happens PDQ because I want to be able to wear clothes other than huge jumpers. 

This morning, I went out with Shaki to meet a new fosterer. We spent about an hour and a half there with her, her husband, occasional cat-sitter (who will also be a registered fosterer) and current cats. One was not at all interested in investigating us, but the other one was in my jacket, scarf, bag and Shaki’s skirt. She was wanting much petting. 

Once we’d gone through all the relevant information, we then made trips to Lee’s, Lydon’s and Pets at Home in search of the gastro food to tide our kittens over until they go on Sunday. 

This afternoon, Daddy and I went to see Rogue One (finally). We were the only ones in there which is always fun, and it meant that I wasn’t annoyed by anyone else. The film was alright – I was almost irritated that it didn’t then go into episode IV with the destruction of the Death Star, but it was enjoyable enough. I liked the sassy robot. 

This evening I’m trying the steroid paste for my mouth. It’s not so bad.

 

The 28th of December. 

No steroids today, and nothing has got worse so I think I’m safe. Thank god; I’m not sure I could cope with going back to the moon face. We rang the dental hospital and got me an appointment for tomorrow, tried the QE but haematology is still closed for Christmas, and we’re taking the kittens to the vet tomorrow because at least four of them are doing unacceptable poos. 

Today I did a lot of crocheting with no results. I’m going to use some of the wool I got for Christmas to make a mermaid blanket and to fit me, I have to get the gauge right. Once I’d worked that out (I was erring on the large side), I then spent the rest of the afternoon doing half the fin, only to find myself 9 grams short for the other half. Instead of buying another ball, I will get a new hook that is between the two sizes I was testing with, then hopefully it will all work out fine. 

This evening, we went to the Botanical Gardens Christmas lights display. I was wrapped up as warm as possible – cashmere socks, long boots, gloves, scarf, hat, blanket. It was pretty, and I took some photos, but it didn’t take long for me to get too cold to care. My toes were so painful, like blocks of ice. My hands were less awful because one can at least rub them together to generate heat, but the feet are impossible. I have been suffering for several hours, and am currently thawing my feet in front of the fire. We’re supposed to do a similar thing at Blenheim Palace on Friday. Hmm. 

The 29th of December. 

My tongue has been numb for hours. We went to the dental hospital to see Mrs. Richards and get my tongue stabbed. She looked inside my mouth and agreed that I definitely needed injections.

First, she put local anaesthetic in the side and underneath of my tongue, in my cheek and inside my top lip, right under my nose. When everywhere was suitably numb, she put the steroid in, then I had to lie with a wad of gauze in my mouth to stop the bleeding. 

Then we had to go shopping while half of my face (even my right nostril) was numb. I wanted to get this crochet hook, some more cashmere socks (if there were any in the sale) and some Uggs (also in the sale and out of necessity to keep my feet warm). The crochet hook and socks were easy, plus I got some lambskin gloves reduced from £50 to £15! Then we went to the Ugg shop. It was very difficult for me because I really hate the look of most Uggs, the traditional kind, so after trying on a couple of pairs, I settled on some ankle boots that are not too obviously Ugg-like and were £50 off, so I think I did quite well!

This afternoon, we took the kittens to the vet (again). Met a very fun dog with a sticky-out tongue and a Christmas jumper. None of the kittens have temperatures, so we have some worming stuff and special food to hopefully settle their dodgy stomachs. 

The 19th of September. 

It’s been about fifteen degrees today, yet I am wearing a thermal t-shirt, a jumper and a long cardigan. When it gets actually cold I think I will literally perish. 

When we went out this morning to the dental hospital, at home it didn’t feel cold enough to warrant a jacket, but in Edgbaston it was raining and freezing. Then inside, their “natural ventilation” air conditioning was going and it felt like a howling gale. I was having to hold the pages of my book down to stop them from blowing over. I was called in and saw Mrs. Richards straight away, no minions today, so we had a chat about how I am, she looked at my mouth, and I’ll go back in three months (which happens to be the ninth anniversary of my first transplant). No surprise tongue injections today!

Popped into town on the way home – I needed some pens from Muji, a new hoodie for the gym (I’m going back tomorrow eee) and some cotton wool pads. Also went to Pret for one of their chocolate chip cookies and a flat white to warm me up, which the chap very kindly wrapped a napkin round because it was very hot. Bless. 

This afternoon I’ve weaved in all the ends of my snood and fought the urge to nap. Trying would only make me sleepier anyway so it would be fruitless. Hopefully I will sleep well tomorrow night after my return to the gym!

The 20th of September. 

I am going to hurt tomorrow, as I had my first session back at the gym today and it was haaard. But more about that later. 

I was surprised to find that Daddy had gone to work this morning seeing as he was throwing up again last night. But apparently he felt okay and he’s not called so assuming he’s been fine. I put my gym clothes on so I had no excuse not to go, and did some research into moving my blog from WordPress to SquareSpace. It’s quite easy to move the blog across, it’s the photos that are an issue. If I decide to do it, I think I’ll have to spend another day in front of the computer. 

After lunch, Mommy took Grandma to fellowship, then when she got back I leapt into the car and to the gym we went. My card had not been unfrozen which was awkward but it got fixed, and I just have to pay the balance for September next time. Then I discovered that my heart rate monitor has died which was most inconvenient. Bah. Anyway, I went through my usual routine in a rather low-key fashion. It’s going to take a while for me to get back to where I was. I saw Vlad and explained that I can’t train with him right now, but he’s going to help me come up with a routine for my core. Lots of planks methinks. I didn’t see anyone I hate, just the girl I am incredibly jealous of because she has the most phenomenal body I have ever seen in real life. I want to be her friend but also I am very intimidated by her. 

And Brangelina! I am loving all the petty Jennifer Aniston gifs on Twitter (even though I very much doubt she cares).

The 2nd of August.

The one day I’m actually able to sleep past eight o’clock, I got woken up by Mommy at ten past because she’d got me an appointment with a different GP at twenty past nine. We decided to go back because of the gabapentin causing me breathing trouble, so it needed changing. Because it was for this reason, I didn’t mind being woken. I got up and dressed as quickly as I possibly could, and had time to eat my cereal but not have coffee before we had to go out. 

Dr. Carter was a very sensible and reasonable person, and she actually listened to what I had to say. After some chat, she just asked what I wanted. I said morphine or oxycontin, so we decided on oramorph. I have to taper off the gabapentin first, so I’ll start it four-hourly on Thursday. Hooray!

Came home to have coffee and give the kittens breakfast. I spent the rest of my morning writing, and anxiously checking my inbox for replies from some people I sent my piece about second transplants to. 

After lunch, I watched the third episode of Mr. Robot, so I’m caught up on what’s been shown, and had just started one of Fringe when Sheila rang to tell me about a potential adopter for Nola. We went through all the information, and had got to the end when she was recanting a conversation she’d had with the woman, said the name of the kitten she’s interested in, and it isn’t one of mine at all! Whoops. At least she realised before I phoned the woman; that would have been very confusing. 

After we hung up, I have started on the cookie jar cat, and I’ve had responses to both the emails I sent which I am 90% happy with so it has been a positive day!

The 3rd of August.

It was not a good night, and the day has not been much better. I was really cold in bed, having to pull up my blanket over the duvet to be warm enough. In August. I despair. 

I woke up ten minutes before my alarm, which was set for half past seven because I needed to be at the (new) dental hospital for 10.35, but we had to leave the house earlier than we normally would because the cricket was on today and Edgbaston Cricket Ground is right by the dental hospital, so we thought parking opportunities would be scant. This turned out not to be the case; there was plenty on-site, so we were really early!

I checked in and we went to sit in the assigned area to wait for my name to be called. We both got decent chunks of our books read, and not too long after my appointment time, I was called in. Through the doors and down the corridor to the booth on the end, where I met a new dentist called Dev. We ran through my drugs and talked about how I’ve been, then he had a look in my mouth. There is an ulcer on my tongue at the back on the right, but we didn’t think it was massively problematic. He went to get Mrs. Richards to check, and she actually thought a steroid injection was necessary, just to give the ulcer a hand in moving on. This was a surprise to us but I wasn’t opposed to the idea. Dev got another dentist, a chap I have met before, to help him. He put some local anaesthetic into my tongue, but the first lot didn’t seem to have any effect, so he had a second go, and that one I felt. My tongue then went numb and swelled up as it should have, and then the steroid was injected into the ulcer. I am to go back in six weeks. 

As we drove home, I had to ring Grandma with my huge tongue and explain to her that we had left and Mommy would be with her as soon as possible, because they were supposed to be going to a funeral and time was being squeezed. 

We decided to actually pick her up and go straight to the church, where I would go home from in my wheelchair. However, when we arrived, it emerged that Grandma had a very enlarged leg and a potential DVT, so she was not going to this funeral. We went home, Mommy sorted out her stuff and went back to Boldmere Court to take Grandma to A&E, as the GP was going to take too long. 

I had to wait a good couple of hours before my tongue had gone down enough for me to be able to eat lunch, which I managed to make but my back did not make it easy as I had to go down to one gabapentin today. Like being constantly poked in the back with a cattle prod. 

The post arrived, and there was a letter for me from Andrew Mitchell, my MP, in response to my email regarding Anthony Nolan’s campaign to not withdraw funding for second transplants. He was not interested. He feels that they’re not cost-effective, not good value for money for the taxpayer. I was a waste of money. He also wanted to let me know just how much the government has done for the donor registers, which is all well and good but pointless if we’re not able to use those donors for their matches. So then I spent the rest of my day trying to write something about it. It was hard. 

Mommy got home about teatime. Grandma’s blood test didn’t show a DVT but that’s not 100% reliable so she has to go back for an ultrasound tomorrow. 

Morphine in the morning. Hopefully I don’t throw up.

The 8th of February. 

Got up very early for Apple Store trip, despite us not being sure if we would go – it depended on what the weather was doing. Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad, so we set off, but found it was getting rather damp by the time we arrived. The shop was fairly empty when we got there, just a couple of customers, so we went in and a chap told me to join the queue consisting of one man. When it was my turn, the man took my details and was very pleased that I’d brought a copy of my receipt with my serial number on it. He said it was fine to just replace the mouse, I just had to wait for maybe 15 minutes for an iMac technician to do it. As soon as I had moved out of the way, I saw the enormous queue that had materialised behind me, and suddenly felt rather smug. A small boy in said queue with his mother seemed to give up on life and just lay on the floor. An iMac man ambled over, we had a brief chat and he ordered a new mouse to come down for me. Then I signed the iPad and we were done!

To kill time, we went to buy a birthday card and have a coffee in Pret (which was surprisingly not too disgusting) before going over to the dental hospital. It was then chucking it down so on the short journey from the car to the front door, I got very wet legs and feet. My knees were so soaked, I went to the toilet, put each foot up on the counter and dried them under the hand dryer.

In the waiting room was an older couple, a man who was waiting for his wife and a man with his father. The younger man was bouncing his knees up and down and tapping his heels in the floor, his wet trainers squeaking. Needless to say, it was incredibly annoying. I was trying to formulate a way to ask him to stop when a woman came in with her mother. She clearly wasn’t in any sort of mood for this, so told him to stop which he did, but then he and his father laughed. She did not find it funny, and it very quickly escalated into an ever so Jeremy Kyle-esque row, only stopping when the lone man told them off in a very impressive manner. The two women got called in, and he started doing it again, so I just looked him in the eyes, then very pointedly at his feet. He stopped. Once they were gone too, we talked about how we were all just staring at our books while it was going on. So awkward. 

After all that, we saw lovely John who asked me all the standard questions, had a look and said my mouth looked the best he’d ever seen! All very pleasing, back in six months!

The 9th of February. 

I had a really weird night, dreaming I got stuck in a tomb. I managed to wake myself up, but it was very unpleasant. However, I was delighted to find out that a match has been found for Lara! Quite incredible, someone that could well have signed up because of her, and now hopefully she will go for transplant in March. I’m quite thrilled. 

I got dressed in gym clothes – I knew if I didn’t, I just wouldn’t bother going this afternoon. This morning I was in my own for the most part, watching TV and working on the bloody paddling pool for the doll. It is somewhat of a palaver – I will only be doing the most necessary of accessories for the next sets of kit. 

After lunch (and the final piece of brownie, sob), I went to the gym for the first time since the end of October. I didn’t feel up to the stairs, so Tom let me in at the lift entrance, and quickly showed me how they’d moved stuff around. I went through my old routine, doing either the same weights and fewer reps, or the next level of weights down. I basically did how I expected, so I’m not disappointed. It is what it is. I was rather trembly by the end. My legs already hurt a little so I’m sure I’ll be walking like a cowboy tomorrow. Very glad I’ve got nothing on.