Archives For fat

The 6th of July.

Ah, home again, where the water from the tap tastes good.

Up very early because we left before half past eight. First, we drove to Ipswich to drop off Christine at the station there, then we continued for three and a half hours to home. My back was horrific.

We got here just before one, so we had time to pee and have a drink before Mommy and I went to The Spire for my cross-match. The receptionist sent me to the wrong place, so we wasted twenty minutes waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. Thankfully, a member of staff was helpful, and suddenly everything happened very quickly. I went to the right place, and the woman in charge came to apologise profusely and make sure shit got done. A nurse came to get me, and she’d bleeped a doctor to bleed me. He had to have two goes, but he got what we needed. On the way out, we were stopped by the manager again, who qoffered us free coffee and cake! We said yes please, because we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was delicious.

We stopped at M&S on the way home to buy some dinner, then this afternoon, I have had my first Hibiscrub shower (I have to have another one in the morning) and a hairwash. Having to blow dry one’s hair in this weather is awful.

I do hope I sleep tonight.

The 7th of July.

Liposuction day!

I am exhausted, swollen, oozy and sore.

I got up early to try and drink loads of water before I had to be nil by mouth at 11. We got to The Spire at about twenty past, and someone from the ward came to get me and take me to my room. It was a slightly nicer version of an NHS cubicle room – pretty much the same, but I could lock my cupboard and I had a wardrobe. Fancy.

A nurse came to admit me and do blood pressure, sats and get a urine sample. Then they sent the doctor I saw yesterday to try and get some more blood from me because they were unhappy with the group and save from then. Unfortunately, my veins did not want to cooperate, and after two tries he decided he would let the anaesthetist try in theatre when they put my cannula in.

The anaesthetist himself, Gerwyn, came to see me next and we talked about all the boxes I had ticked on the form (he thinks I probably did break the record). We discussed the regional block, the risks, what else we might need to do. It all sounded very promising so that was grand and off he went. Then we just had to wait for Anne!

She came just after two o’clock and drew all over my arm to show where she was going to go in (basically everywhere), took some pictures for comparison, then I signed the consent form and it was time to go!

In the anaesthetic room, Gerwyn had two attempts at the cannula, unfortunately settling on the vein in the underside of my wrist, although he did put some local anaesthetic in first so it wasn’t as uncomfortable. Couldn’t get any blood but it was unlikely that I’d need a transfusion so nevermind. Then he ultrasounded around my collarbone to find the nerves he wanted to use to make my arm numb. We had to wait for it to kick in, then he started spraying me with the cold spray and poking me with a blunt needle to see what I could feel. Turns out a brachial block can’t numb the inside of the upper arm or the back of it, so they would try and get some local infiltration in theatre.

When we went in, I asked if we were going to do a Who, which they all found very amusing because nobody had ever asked that before, then they asked if I would lead it, so I did! I was prepped, made all clean, some leg massagers were attached to my calves to prevent me from getting another DVT, and a screen was erected in front of my face to keep the sterile and non-sterile areas separate. That was annoying, because I had wanted to watch. However, they asked if I wanted any music to entertain me, so I requested Death Cab. They were unsure until they heard it, and then they realised they are lovely so we just listened to them for two hours while Anne hoovered all the extra fat out of my arm. The noise is like a combination of an electric toothbrush and a drill. And in the places where it wasn’t numb and the local anaesthetic wasn’t reaching, it felt like she was shoving a long drill bit in and out of my arm. It was painful enough to get past just clenching my jaw – I screwed up my face a bit and even emitted an “Ow.” That means it is bad. If you are planning on having liposuction ever, I would recommend making sure you can be entirely numb, and if you can’t, be asleep. It’s not pleasant. When she was finished, all the little holes got stitched up, then covered in Mepore dressings. My entire arm is Mepore. Then, they had to try to get a compression garment over the top without messing up all the dressings. I had a quick look, and she was not kidding about the bruising. It’s rather dramatic. That was tricky, but they did a reasonable job. Blood and fluid has oozed out through it constantly since then, and it’s supposed to carry on until tomorrow evening. I’m not supposed to change the dressings for ten days, but I can’t see how they’ll still be viable even after tomorrow. I’ll ask Anne when she comes round in the morning.

When it was all done, at about quarter to five, I was taken to recovery, where we saw the very end of the football (It’s coming home!) and everybody told me how well I’d done. Anne said it went really well, and she removed a whole litre of fat. A litre! Even she didn’t expect there to be that much. After about half an hour and a much needed glass of water, I was taken back to the ward.

Here, I have had to do everything one handed, because my right arm was useless until about 9. I can flop it about, like Harry Potter does when Gilderoy Lockhart magics away his bones. I managed to get my phone out of the cupboard and ring Mommy, so she could come and see me because she wanted to. Then I rang Christine to tell her how it had gone, because it was easier than texting. I was brought the sandwich I’d ordered before surgery and some coffee, which happily did not taste like garbage. I was so hungry but it’s hard to eat an egg mayo sandwich with only one hand. Mommy arrived, I told her all that had happened, and she helped me sort out the sheets and shuffle myself up the bed. She left at about twenty past seven, and I lay and waited for my arm to come back to me, sending her a video every time the mobility moved up the arm a bit. By 9, I had regained most of the movement and sensation. It’s got its cons though – now I can feel again, I’m aware that it is quite achy. Will ask the nurses for some codeine, see if that helps. Then I will try to go to sleep. Not feeling optimistic.

The 12th of June.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

First thing, I gave him the presents I bought him yesterday. I had ordered some other stuff but it didn’t look like it would arrive in time, hence the shopping yesterday. Of course, they were actually delivered today. Oh well, he can have them for Father’s Day! Anyway, he’s very happy with his fudge and astronaut.

I did a blog post this morning, then we went out for lunch at The Boathouse. I don’t think we’ve been there since Becky and James’ wedding. They have done it up, and I do not like the new artwork. Mirrors with bottles of alcohol sticking out of them, appearing to spray. Awful. And being sold for £295! Still, I had some tasty food: mac and cheese, and baked cod in a brie and chive cream sauce. All very delicious.

We had about an hour at home, then Mommy and I had to go to The Spire to see Anne Dancey about my arm. We went through all that has happened in the past year, she examined both arms, and basically, I’m going to have liposuction. I’ll get a quote tomorrow, then I will book a date to have it done. I will have two arms that are the same size!

Dolly is still unhappy and I think we are stuck. I have texted the adopter of Dot, because her daughter in law looked after Dolly at the cattery and I think she might be able to help.

The 13th of June.

There is not much of interest to say today. This morning was pretty quiet – I booked my trains to London and back for the stem cell APPG summer reception in July, and found myself panicking about getting the train home in time, despite me doing it last year and getting the same trains. I need to calm the fuck down.

After lunch, I went to the gym and actually had a good session without any terrifying breathing or terrible back pain! Amazing.

This evening, Sarah, who worked with Dolly at the cattery, came round to see her. We hoped she might be able to coax her out but unfortunately, she wasn’t having any of it. Stayed under the chair, hissing. We’ve got some rescue remedy to put in her water, and I’m going to talk to Shaki to see if she has any further ideas. Otherwise, we’re at a loss. 

The 26th of February. 

I have such fat hands!it is obviously going to take several days of furosemide to get rid of the fluid. It is bizarre to have fat palms. There are no dents in my hands unless you press into them. 

I woke up with a very dry, sore throat, and trying to talk, I sounded like Chewbacca. But I was in my own bed which is all that is important. I gave Mommy her birthday present and card. I hadn’t been able to wrap the earrings – my hands don’t really work. Writing is making them ache. 

So I’ve spent my day going back and forth from the bathroom as that’s what diuretics do. I haven’t been able to crochet. I will just be quite useless until this fluid is gone. It hurts more than you would think. 

The 27th of February. 

It just doesn’t stop, does it? The fluid is slowly going, after having 60mg of furosemide, but now it looks like the GvHD in my skin is flaring up on my torso. It might be a side effect of the fluclox but I don’t know. It would just be fucking typical that having been off steroids for a month, the fluid finally draining from my face, I might have to go back on them and everything be ruined. 

Another day of not doing much at all, because I feel like a useless heap. My hands can do most things now, so I started doing some crocheting late afternoon. I’ve made up Benedict the Chimpanzee, and I’ve done the body of Georgia’s bear. Christine has come home this weekend and she brought us brownies! I had half of the triple chocolate one because the others seemed too much for me to consume. 

I’m sick of being afraid all the time. I haven’t had the slightest chance of normality since July, when I had to go back on steroids and lost all my muscle mass. I just want a break. 

The 17th of June.

I took a Zopiclone again last night because my tongue was aching like crazy. Still woke up at half five because that is my life.

I worked out again this morning because I know I won’t have time to tomorrow, plus I am going to consume approximately one zillion calories at Five Guys and Miller & Carter. I finished just in time for my ASOS delivery, only one item from which I am keeping. I also had a delivery of macarons from Dr. Tim! They are trialling delivery at Macarons & More and I was a guinea pig. I can confirm that they arrived intact, beautifully presented and testing even better than before which I didn’t think possible! I’ve had the lemon, the salted caramel, and the vanilla so far.

Mommy and I went to town this afternoon because I haven’t been for what seems like ages, and I got a dress from Oasis and a mascara. Selfridges are revamping or something and it’s dreadful. The womenswear is split between the 3rd and 4th floors, all price ranges smushed together. It makes no sense and is utterly bizarre to try and navigate. I have emailed them about it.

When we got back, we tried to flush my line again (it’s misbehaving) and it’s just sucking things up and won’t bleed. It won’t even give back the saline immediately after you’ve pushed it in. It’s a good thing I’m at the QE tomorrow.

I helped Becky decorate some cakes for her Grandma’s birthday (my piping skills were in demand) and tonight I have painted my nails.

The 18th of June.

Holy fucking God I am so tired. Steroids are the worst. I’ve been awake since five am. I decided to get up at seven-ish because I was too hungry to stay in bed any longer. This morning I began as I meant to go on, as today was going to be terrible in terms of diet without question. I chopped up some dark chocolate and shoved it into a croissant which I subsequently shoved into my face.

I met Sadie for lunch at Five Guys at half twelve, which was less busy than I expected. A queue did form while we were there though so maybe we were just early? I ordered a hot dog with ketchup (I was afraid of going too fat-heavy) and she had a double bacon cheeseburger. We had a medium Cajun fries to share, but they were way too spicy for my lips to deal with so I only ate about two. I saw Alison Hammond and said hi (we’ve met a few times so she vaguely recognises me now), and Sadie and I caught up on each other’s super-exciting lives. She has to write two chapters of her thesis by the 23rd, so today’s hangout was a tiny break from work. I knew I needed to leave town by 2 as we were going to see the photopheresis nurses about my line before liver clinic, so we went across to Starbucks so I could get a mocha cookie crumble frappuccino at about quarter to (I said it was a bad diet day), then I went back to the car and off to the QE!

The nurses are completely befuddled by my line’s behaviour, after having had a good go at it. They rang Ram and he wants it out ASAP, so I’m back tomorrow at 12.30 for someone to yank it out of my chest. Fun. Then we went to liver clinic, where we saw Philippa for the first time since before she went to have her baby! She showed us lots of pictures. We got in to see James very quickly and there wasn’t much to say – just told him what had been going on with my mouth and skin, drug changes, sporadic bleeding and he checked that Andy Toogood had made the referral which he has. Apparently this gynae lady is the wife of one of the liver consultants who I think I’ve met only once but it’s always good to have a connection. He wanted some bloods as I haven’t had any proper ones done for about a month, so after he’d advised me against any more fried food, I went and got stabbed and we came home!

Tonight Grandma took us to Miller & Carter because Maureen and Audrey have come down to visit (she calls them “the girl” even though they are in their eighties), so I erred on the side of caution and ate a sirloin steak and a few sweet potato wedges but was generally terrible company because I am exhausted.

It is half past nine and I am going to bed.

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