Hello everybody, I'm still here even though it has been a while. I've had the second low dosage chemotherapy treatment but little progress on the housing situation.
Let me tell you about the treatment day. The good points of the day were that I wasn't as bruised as before, they had no trouble finding a vein that would play and so inserted the cannula and took the blood test sample from that; they had football on the television instead of the usual 'magazine' programme, which is usually about Celebrity and fashion, even the recipes, and as I am not interested in either, I find those programmes boring, also a friend who lives near the hospital came to keep me company, and we can and do keep talking for hours! My urine was olive green time not the bright green of last time. Probably because more is staying in my system, it is a cumulative treatment after all.
That evening I let my leg bag fill too much and had what I thought was strong bladder spasms, by the time I realised that it wasn't a spasm it was too late to get to the toilet and so I made a puddle on the floor. [That'll teach me to make sure the bag is emptied regular]
My blood test results are gradually improving so something positive is happening. Maybe next time the effects will last longer. Another indication of my body retaining more of the treatment is the steroid high I have been on for about a week. The feeling of being able to handle anything life throws at me and the overwhelming tiredness afterwards. Plus the steroid flush that I have been warned about but has never happened to me before, and, of course the insomnia, but I've attributed that to my mind overworking due to the imminent move.
The news that I will have to move has counteracted any positive effects of the treatment. I now drag my right foot continually even scraping it on the riser part of the stairs which is not safe. It takes me so much effort to climb the stairs I have no energy to do anything apart from sit on my dressing chair, and the thought that I have to descend the stairs doesn't help either. I have to cling to both handrails so cannot bring even the dirty washing downstairs. Oh the joy of having a bungalow.
My GP has referred me for a wheelchair and, after a discussion she is ordering an electric helper chair. I can't have a self-propelled model unless I want to spend my days travelling in circles and a power-chair would only be provided if I had either a ramped or level access. As Alan has been told by the cardiologist that he cannot push a wheelchair the electric version that is easier for him is the only solution
So I have no independence until I move and that is making me impatient, I have spoken to the Occupational Therapist since and from what she said I am working on an October moving date. Not ideal but I am left with no option really, the workings of Local Government departments are powered by pedals it seems. My MS physiotherapist is prodding them to move quicker if that helps. I bet it doesn't!
I haven't told my mother yet about having to move, some days she just isn't on this planet. Her planet must be light years away from mine because I never see her in transit. She is trying the care home again next week, which will give all the family a break from her ringing each of us for nothing.
