It might surprise you that, as I’ve reflected on the news over the last few hours, I’ve decided that I’m moving to America. My reason is a selfish one: Trump has promised to banish all illegal immigrants so the Squatter should be afraid. Simples.
Too soon for Trump-related tumour humour? It’s all I’ve got to lift me from the pit of despair about humanity.
Back to the Future of the world another time no doubt but, for now, I have so many thoughts and yet so little to say. And not just because of my mild speech problem.
(If) The Drugs Don’t Work
My phenytoin trough test yesterday showed the levels are up to a seven following a booster dose on Monday (to recap, they aim for 10, I had been a three, although seven is acceptable). They are going to test my blood levels again tomorrow and, if it’s down, they are going to consider dropping my phenytoin and introducing a new anti-seizure drug. Continue reading “H+1: H was for Hate”
I’ve known for months how many weeks it was until the American election. I remembered every now and then that it falls on Graham’s birthday. However, as the election has gotten closer, the times that I’ve forgotten that his birthday is the same day have outweighed the times that I’ve remembered. I would blame the Squatter but I’ve got no trouble remembering the election is tomorrow so it’s really Trump’s fault.
So, in case I forget in the midst of all the stress and nervousness of tomorrow, I want to wish him a happy birthday in advance. This is not something I would usually do publicly but these are not normal times by any stretch of the imagination (he’s called in sick today, some people can’t handle the pace!). Continue reading “H – 1: H is for Hillary (One Can Only Hope)”
I’ve spent much of the last 78 hours asleep since my “Awake” operation. It takes a lot out of you to supervise your own brain surgery, let me tell you. Especially when you have five consultants to supervise (Mr H, three consultant anaesthetists and a consultant neurophysiologist).
Mr H said he didn’t have to use the ice pack on my brain during the surgery as I was showing no signs of seizures. I had a seizure 20 minutes after I rolled into Recovery (funnily enough, it was the same bay in Recovery as I had taken up both before and after my biopsy). With three further seizures on Monday, one on Tuesday evening, two yesterday and two overnight, that takes my total post-surgery count to nine. Continue reading “Wakey, Shakey, Highs and Nine”
Following a successful CT scan showing nothing out of the ordinary (other than Rach’s “special” brain), Rach is on the ward as of yesterday evening. She has her own room, which, whilst perfectly acceptable, regrettably does not benefit from wall art, green feature walls or an idyllic woodland scene screensaver on its air con controls. A strongly worded letter has been drawn up, addressed to Mr Hunt [insert expletives here], suggesting that achieving a consistency in the aesthetic suitability of board and lodgings across the hospital estate must surely replace the constant vilification and degradation of his weekend-workshy charges as his number one priority…I await his response.
Rachel remains tired but in good spirits. She had a seizure yesterday evening (the first for twenty-something hours) and has just had another mid-lunch. Despite this, coveting glances made toward her repast were swiftly dismissed. Continue reading “Hands off my pie”
Thankfully, Rachel’s operation has gone well. She remained awake throughout and was able to complete her first brain surgery supervision with minimal fuss. I am yet to be permitted an audience with my superstar wife although I hope that will be sorted soon.
Today marks the middle of the beginning of our adventure. Looking forward, we are set for a challenging and, hopefully, rewarding few weeks before Rachel embarks on a course of radiotherapy to further strangle the life out of the little sh1t.
My hope for this treatment hiatus is that Rachel regains and retains a level of independence which will allow her to fully enjoy her children, her family and friends and, dare I say it, maybe even her husband (a long shot I know).
As ever, the unwavering support and love shown by you all brings enormous benefit to us in our day-to-day lives. Thank you.
I will try to update as regularly as possible over the next couple of days before handing back to the Headline act.
It’s about 72 hours since my last seizure. That’s twice the length of time between that and the previous seizure. Hopefully, that’s a sign that the medication is winning against Dr Nazi.
I’m really hoping that this means the surgery will go ahead tomorrow (and is successful) and I’ll be disappointed if it doesn’t. However, if Mr H thinks that it’s not safe to go ahead because of the seizures (or anything else), then I have to accept his judgment. Continue reading “Long Time No…”
At 8am this morning, these two (lovely) crazies, Laura and Rob, set off on the Jedburgh 3 Peaks Ultramarathon:
The race is 38 miles in the Scottish Borders. Both the distance and the terrain just seem insane to me, and yet here they were, just before the race started, smiling at the prospect! Rob and Laura very kindly decided to run for the Brain Tumour Charity, and if you should wish to do so, you can sponsor them here. Continue reading “A Day of Sporting Triumphs”