Health is the Greatest Gift, Contentment the Greatest Wealth, Faithfullness the Best Relationship. Buddha

Hello All, It is less than a week since I posted up my last blog, and here I am composing another. A couple of days after posting up the last blog I was sitting at home waiting on the CIT (Community Intervention Team) Nurse to call and flush through and re-dress my picc line.  This was to occur on the Wednesday. On Sunday I had developed those awful sores in my mouth and throat again and this was making me irksome and feeling rather ill. On Monday I decided to spend my day once again catching up on household finances, chasing up queries from insurance people and renewing both mine and Gerry's car taxes. I have to be honest doing these chores had me feeling  so utterly drained. Once I had done what I had set out to do I decided to lie down on the sofa. The fatigue  was beyond draining. I lay down and before I knew it I was fast asleep, only to be woken when my boys came home from school. On Tuesday the sores were worse once again affecting my speech terribly. Eating or drinking anything was not just a chore, it was becoming a torture. I spoke to my GP in floods of tears on the phone, I listed out what I had and Dr Coates gave me the names of further treatments. Kim Flynn called around with Daktarin Oral Gel which was exactly what Dr Coates suggested  and I lashed it on. I once again lay on the sofa and slept. How I was sleeping at nights too, God only knows! As I have already mentioned the fatigue is beyond belief. It is as though I have been turned into some sort of a zombie. Wednesday, the boys were leaving the house for their lift to school. They said their goodbyes and headed off. "Make sure you have a key boys!" I called out, just in-case I am asleep when you get home and can't hear the doorbell. The sleep that I have been going into is very deep and waking me can be something of a nightmare. I turned on the television and had Ireland AM on. I lay on the sofa with my head on the arm. I had my blanket Diane made for me covering me from head to toe. Trying to keep my eyes open was a virtual impossibility. I looked at the clock, quarter past eight in the morning. Gerry had already left for work and there was nothing for me to do, so I thought, 'Just sleep this chemo off Murph!' my dry, tired eyes fluttered a couple of times and before I knew it I was fast asleep. I slept and slept. I woke up to the persistent ringing of the door bell. I glanced up at the clock quite groggily and feeling as though more sleep was needed. 'No! that can't be right!' The clock read 4:00p.m. I stumbled to the door and opened it. The Community Nurse had arrived. "I am so sorry, I had fallen asleep! What time is it?" I asked as I let her into the house. The nurse confirmed the time, and I felt bewildered and in a dreamlike state. "Elaine, I am going to take your temperature before I flush the picc line!" stated the nurse. This she did and it was 39.7 degrees. "I am afraid it is off to hospital for you" and she proceeded to call an ambulance. This fatigue and constant desire to sleep was a direct link to the high temperature and once again the un-welcome symptoms of neutropenia. I was taken by ambulance directly to St. Vincent's hospital. Once here, I was greeted by the nurses who, by now know me on first name terms, and immediately put into isolation. I was put onto drips of antibiotics and IV fluids. I felt so ill. I am not actually sure how long I was in the Isolation section of A&E, but before long I was moved into a single room on St. Michael's ward. Once again the nursing care was fantastic. I was on copious amounts of antibiotics. Anyone entering my room had to wear an apron and a mask in order that no germs were spread to me. My immune system was through the floor. Not only that, but my oxygen levels were very low and so onto oxygen I was put. 

The nursing staff and doctors on St. Michael's ward were amazing. They popped in regularly to check on me and gradually they managed to nurse me through the neutropenia. Finally my bloods were coming back up and the white cells were increasing, building up my immune system and having me feeling human again. I was sleeping less and reading, crocheting or gaming on line more.  By the Sunday I was like a new person. This particular evening, the ward nurse popped into my room. 

"Elaine, can I ask you a big favour?" 

"Of course you can"

"Would you mind if we move you from this single room onto the ward?"

"Well is my neutropenia settled? Will there be any chance that I can pick up any virus? Are there any coughers and splutterers on the ward?"

"You are now out of the dangers that neutropenia brings. It is a surgical ward and not a medical ward that you will be on so there are no viruses and no there are no coughers and splutterers. We have a lady who needs a single room!"

"Of course, that is no problem!"

I had noticed a lady in the ward opposite my room a few days earlier when I peeked out during my 'isolation' days. She too had not got a single hair on her head. Yup, that dreaded cancer once again. I prayed that she made the recovery that I had and would soon be up and about with her family. 

I packed my bags and went to sit in another room whilst the nurses swapped my bed and took my bags to the bay in the surgical ward with 4 other women. It was approximately 9:00 p.m. when this was taking place. The lady was wheeled in her bed into the room I had just vacated and I was then brought to my bay. Most of the women had curtains drawn around their beds, so I too drew mine and before long I settled down for the evening and started to sleep. In all fairness I did have a good night sleep, only to be woken up early hours by... yes  you guessed it... a cougher... an my goodness cough she did. I being me, thought, "Ah shit nooooo.... I have come here to get better not catch anything else!" I did no more than dive for my mask and instantly put it over my face. Wearing these masks are not at all comfortable, you certainly would not want to be claustrophobic, the also make you sweat like crazy and when you are bald this sweat cannot be hidden and rolls off your head as though you have just come out of a shower. Masked and with a red, sweaty face I tried to get back to sleep. Well this bloody coughing continued. I swear at one point I heard her lungs hop off the floor and bounce back into her chest, not unlike a pair of yo-yos. Yes the coughing was that bad. In fact, anyone from my era remember 'Mutley'? had I not been any the wiser, I would have thought he had been given a bed on the ward. The nurse came round to attach another IV of antibiotics and to check on the fluid I had attached. It was a bag of fluid to be given via IV over a period of 12 hours. It was just under half full. I looked at the nurse and she looked back at a masked, red and very sweaty me and I mouthed...

"You told me there were no coughers... I could be breathing in anything here!"

I wondered why the nurse was looking at me strangely, as though I was a tad demented, when I realised I was mouthing these words through the mask and the nurse hand not got one clue as to what I was saying. 

"I beg your pardon?"

The perplexed nurse asked... I repeated my statement, this time minus the mask. The nurse smiled and assured me that this was not a viral cough but one that was brought on through asthma, and I could rest assured I would not catch anything, although she understood my fear.  I carefully took off the mask and thought "I bloody hope not!" I got up and tidied my bay, opened my curtain and nodded good morning to the lady opposite me. Gradually all the ladies woke, breakfast was served and we all chatted along nicely. Cougher in the corner apologised for keeping anyone awake and explained how her cough kept her awake. We all chatted and got to know each other. All the ladies were in for a variety of surgeries and then one commented about the lady who had vacated the bay I now inhabited.  

They lady had been sitting up laughing and joking with all the other patients on the ward on the Saturday evening. That night they all said good night and fell asleep. The lady who was now in the single room with her family around her, did not wake up, and very, very sadly quietly passed away mid morning on Monday. I didn't know who she was, but she too had cancer and unfortunately lost her life because of it. I hope you are resting in peace and are now out of any discomfort and pain. 

Dr. Gullo came round and was very pleased with my improvement. He said that it would be possible for me to go home the next day. I then asked, that as my husband Gerry was currently at the hospital attending a clinic for his post op assessment, would it be possible for me to be discharged that day to save the drive to and from the hospital two days in a row. This was agreed and so I packed my bags and spend the morning crocheting and chatting to the other ladies on the ward. There was a lovely atmosphere on the ward and everyone was so supportive of each other. Gerry arrived on the ward and we waited for the discharge letter and prescription for the antibiotics I was to take for the next two days. 

I spoke to my Mum on the phone to let her know that I was being discharged and she surprised me with the information that both Mum and Dad would be coming over on Wednesday and staying with us for two weeks. Excellent!

My Parent's arrival!

On Wednesday Gerry headed off to work as usual. Joe, Jim and myself took our time to get up and begin our day. They boys were amazing and hoovered the house from top to bottom. They then cleaned the bathrooms and tidied up all the rooms. I pottered about downstairs and started on the kitchen. It is amazing at how quickly you become shaky and weak, needing to sit down to get back some energy. Mid morning, the doorbell rang. Mary Green, my friend and colleague had called to visit. It was lovely to see her and catch up with this lovely, gentle lady. We did a lot of laughing and catching up. Mary the flowers are beautiful, thank you.  Mary left and I continued to slowly tidy up the kitchen, and wash down my units. The boys unpacked and re stacked the dishwasher. I cleaned my oven and then prepared a chicken for tonight's tea. I put the chicken into the oven and Joe peeled the potatoes for roasties and mash. Carrots, cauliflower and broccoli were put into the pan and we also decided to have some Yorkshire puddings. At 5:30 pm, the gentleman from 'Growing up in Ireland' knocked on the door to interview Joe, Gerry and myself. I continued to prepare the dinner and the interviewer continued to ask his questions. He continued on until 7:30pm, by which time my parents had arrived. They sat in the lounge whilst I continued the interview with your man.  About half an hour later he was packing his stuff and leaving. I went into the sitting room and had a huge hug from both my Mum and Dad. I had a roast dinner cooked and ready to serve up for all of us. It would be the first meal that I would have eaten for over a week. Even now I wasn't sure that I would be able to each much of it as my throat was still very sore and the taste of my food was appalling, all thanks to chemotherapy.

I went back into the kitchen to make the gravy and to dish up the dinner. Suddenly Mum came into the kitchen with my Dad.

"Elaine, can you give me a hand here, you Dad is complaining of a pain on his chest, help me with the buttons to get his shirt off will you!"

Dad was pulling at the neck of his top as though in some discomfort.... "Ah Jaysus, don't let there be anything wrong!" I thought.  I undid the buttons and pulled up Dad's jumper and shirt to see what was bothering him.

Oh Holy Mother Of God!.... My Father at the age of 75 has had his first  tattoo... not just any tattoo, but right above his heart he has the breast cancer ribbon tattooed onto his chest.

"This, my love is for you, you have to carry your scars and I will carry this, just for you. I just want you to know that I am supporting you"

It was a combination of laughter and tears of joy. My Dad did this for me. As Dad said, the two things he did not like in life... Tattoos and the colour pink.... What does he get? A tattoo of a pink ribbon, just for me. My Father, My Hero.  In fact as I sit here, I am still shaking my head in amazement. Tattoos have been a bit of an issue over the years, from the moment I got my first tattoo 28 years ago, to the latest only 18 Months ago. My brother, like me, is also very much into his body art. Welcome to the inked club Dad. I wonder if I will be getting tattooed at the age of 75. I guess I will have to, just to mark my father's inking.

                                                         https://youtu.be/xGid5G71aig

Click the link to see Dad's Tattoo Reveal.

Today is the first time in ages that I have felt anywhere near human. Mum, Dad and I took Joe and Jim to school as they had an interview to attend. Whilst we were waiting for them to finish, we nipped into the Bread Basket in Kilcoole, where a lovely hot chocolate was enjoyed by myself whilst Mum and Dad enjoyed a pot of tea for two. We had a lovely chat about all sorts, put the world to rights. We returned to the school for the boys and then went on to Dundrum where the boys purchased shoes from Shuh and clothes from Penneys. I didn't feel quite up to going through rails of clothing, that can wait for another day when I fell a bit on the stronger side. In the meantime, I am going to enjoy my parent's visit and admire my beautiful pink ribbon. Thank you Dad, you really and truly have amazed me. 75 and getting your first ever tattoo, Just For Me! I love you.

Cancer: My Journey!: "When Someone Has Cancer, The Whole Family and Eve...

Cancer: My Journey!: "When Someone Has Cancer, The Whole Family and Eve...: Chemo 4: Last chemo going in for this session I finally finished the final session of the A & C Chemo. It has had me tired and ...

"When Someone Has Cancer, The Whole Family and Everyone Who Loves Them Does Too!: Terri Clark

Chemo 4:

Last chemo going in for this session

I finally finished the final session of the A & C Chemo. It has had me tired and weak, I have been sick on a couple of occasions. The feeling of being weak and tired for most of the time have had me needing a lot of sleep and that is exactly what I have done. What I have also had is the amazing support of my family and my friends. Mum, Dad, my Sister Diane and my Nephew Andrew all came over and visited me two weeks ago. Friday until Monday. It was lovely to see them. They were picked up by Suzanne in her Lear Jet and piloted safely here to Arklow. Then returned to the port on time for the ferry back on Monday. 

I headed this blog with a saying from Terri Clark. "When someone has cancer, the whole family and everyone who loves them does too!"  I have found this to be so utterly true.  You see, I can see the worry, hurt, concern and fear in the faces of all my family and friends, no matter how hard they try to disguise it. In the way my family and friends care for me, the cruel way that it tells on my parents, as much as they like to try and hide it, the way it has given my Sister a new outlook in life, whereas I can see this cancer has upset her, hurt her and made her cry, It has also given her a magnificent strength. She sees life differently, does not suffer fools gladly, and has developed a strength and bravery that is just amazing. My whole family, parents Roy and Glenys, siblings Diane and Roy along with their spouses and children, My husband Gerry, my children Amy, Joe and Jim, my Friends Suzanne, Nic, Hazel, Julia and everyone else Ger Noonan, Pauline and Tamara (who has introduced me to geocaching - more on this later), Katie, then Jo, Karen and Jo (The Maples Girls), my friends and colleagues Geraldine, Orla, Carmel and Gerardine who all keep in touch, you have all been amazing from popping in for coffee, to making arrangements to meet for coffee, for tolerating changes to plans when meds have me feeling like a 'shaken up sack of shit', I just cannot thank you all enough. Yes the changes in the way people respond, care and demonstrate their amazingly kind and caring sides cancer does affect everyone who is involved in your life even in the smallest way. Everyone carries some part of this cancer no matter how small or large, it truly does have a very large ripple effect and once those ripples touch you they change part if not all of  your life forever. 

Tamara and I with my first ever
geocache find

Although  I have had a tough time during this last chemo,  I have also had a lovely time with family and friends. Firstly the visit from my family, although I was not well enough to get out and about very much at all, the fact that they were here was fantastic. I also had a new experience of geocaching. I had met Ger, Pauline and Tamara for coffee last Sunday. It was a lovely relaxed couple of hours that was very welcome. We discussed things from work, to yes, geocaching. Tamara is very into this and I expressed that it was something that I would like to try but had not had the opportunity. Tamara does no more than take out her phone and search out local geocaches. The next thing teas and hot chocolate are finished and we are heading out from the cafe to find these caches. We found two and in all honesty I found it quite exciting. The plan to find all six geocaches on the Kynocs history walk is in the planning.

Laughter is the best medicine

I attended my mid chemo bloods two weeks ago. When I arrived at the hospital, I sat in the reception area after checking in, in the St. Anne's Day ward. Suzanne had come with me as she has done with many of my appointments, sharing them between herself and Gerry. These appointments can be long and arduous. There is not usually a mid chemo appointment, but due to the fact that I have suffered with neutropenia, low liver functioning tests and other concerns, the hospital have been keeping a very close eye on me. I sat there quietly feeling as lifeless as a dead fish. One of the main nurses there Aileen, called "Elaine" I looked up not sure if I had actually heard my name. Aileen called again "Elaine, are you OK?" I had been sitting with my back to the reception desk, Aileen was behind the desk and smiled over, I nodded and smiled, I felt so ill. The next thing another nurse called me to follow her. Usually these mid chemo bloods are just taken and you are sent off home. If anything shows up you are called and either asked to return to the hospital or instructed over the phone as to what you are to look out for and if anything out of the ordinary occurs to return to hospital. This time, I was brought to the quieter end of the chemo treatment room and given a bed to lie on. Temperature, bloods, blood pressure were taken. Mr Gullo, one of my oncologists came to see me. He instructed that I was put on intravenous fluids over a two hour period. The dressing on my picc line was changed and I dozed while the fluids were coursing through my veins.  I felt slightly better on the way home, but fell asleep in the car. Weak was an understatement. My bloods had come back that I was very neutropenic and that I was one point away from a blood transfusion. The levels for a blood transfusion were 1.2, I was 2.2.

The Aintree Grand National was on last Saturday. This is something that I back every year. It is almost a family tradition. Had I been at home in Wales it would have been a family day, spent together at my Sister and Brother-in-Laws home watching the race and a nice buffet served. Here I pick out my horse (on name criteria only) and then get Gerry and the lads to pick a horse too. I then go to the bookies and put on my stakes. Being a novice better, I only put on a euro each way. This year I was lucky to get first and second with the grand total of 73 Euro. Happy days. I brought my winnings home and shared it between the five of us. A nice treat each, something unexpected for us all. The boys had 10 Euro each, Gerry had 20 Euro and I had 33 Euro, well I did the leg work...  ha ha ha. 

Gerry and boys when Gerry
was in hospital

Gerry has had quite a hard time himself this last fortnight. He had surgery on his intestine, removing part of his intestine that had been affected by crohns disease. This looks as though it will have solved the problem for some time. He should not get any attacks for the foreseeable future. The Crohns has the potential to return but please God this surgery will put paid to the pain he used to be in. He had had to go through some nasty surgery, have quite a lot of pain afterwards but has thankfully made a good recovery. He has his post surgery appointment the week after next and once again life will be returning to near normality for us both.

Sunday morning Gerry and I decided to go out for a walk. We went down to the harbour and walked along the pier wall. It was windy, cool and sunny, yet it was a beautiful walk. It is unreal as to how ill health can make you feel feeble, old and weak, how you then appreciate the pre-sickness days why you foolishly wasted days that you could have spent enjoying in this manner. How you wished that you could walk, talk and breath at the same time, because this chemo certainly does hinder your ability to walk and breath at the same time.  The breathlessness is very uncomfortable and having to stop every few meters makes me annoyed at myself for wasting so much time over my life. Yes I have partied and enjoyed it, but I think possibly too much of the partying days took place. I am determined now to make such a full recovery and do the canoeing that I have always wanted to or take up something that will have me out more in the great out doors. Geochaching just may play a greater roll in my life than I thought...  Thanks Tamara :)

On Tuesday, I had my pre-chemo assessment. Once again the bloods were taken and my height and weight. Once again the big drop in weight as a cause for concern was brought up. You see the chemotherapy is mixed up on weight and height. I was on the cusp of them having to adjust the chemo. If Ilose another pound or two at this point in time, the chemotherapy I am being given could prove to be an overdose, as too much of  a strong  mixture would have been created to suite my weight and height. Thankfully this would be the last of my A&C chemo.  The next morning being Wednesday, I was at the hospital for 8:30 a.m. An early start which means a lovely early finish. Thankfully having the picc line inserted has made the administering of chemotherapy much easier. I took my Emend, a strong anti-sickness tablet and the bag of anti-sickness was hooked up to the picc. That took half an hour to flow into the veins. I then had a flush through and a duel valve was fitted to the picc so that Ferdia could administer the two syringes of A Chemo and have the dilution fluid flow through at the same time. As mentioned in my last blog, this chemo is very strong and needs diluting so that the veins can stand its strength. I then had a further flush through following the A chemo before the C Chemo was attached to the picc line and dripped through over the space of a further half an hour. Following that came the final flush through. I could now leave and head home. Once again, as soon as I was in the car the utter tiredness hit me. I dozed quietly as I was driven home and once home settled in my usual comfy spot on the sofa. I had a small doze and relaxed for the afternoon.  By the evening, unusually so, I was feeling quite sickly. This does not usually happen on the day of chemo, however as this has been administered over a two weekly period as opposed to a three weekly period, my system is not being given a rest and the chemo effects are getting stronger and stronger. The absolute worst part of this chemo has been the sores in the mouth and throat. I have suffered the most awful and painful of mouth ulcers, cuts and sores to the tongue, the sides, top, underneath and the back of my throat. This has made it utterly impossible to eat and drink, to speak and to laugh and has had me feeling miserable to say the least. In fact, I can honestly say that it has been the most miserable I have felt since the start of my chemo last October.  After my mid chemo visit to the hospital, I was prescribed Oramorph (oral morphine), BMX mouth wash (a combination of cough syrups with lidocaine in them) and a preventative medicated mouth drops. All have to be swallowed and all make you sleepy, so on top of the chemo and with the oral medications I have been in a zombie like state for the last week.  Even something as simple as going to the shops had consequences when Karen saw me in Dunne's and her kindness and support had me weepy. Yes, this is how low I have felt this last chemo. It has been quite a wearing time this time round. I can now look forward to the return of these sores by the end of this week. Hopefully all the meds that I have here will help me cope with it in a much better way. It is no wonder I lost so much weight over the last fortnight, not eating or should I say not being able to eat will have that effect. Approximately thirty hours after the chemotherapy I gave myself the lonquex injection. This injection was stopped after my first session of my first round of chemotherapy due to a severe reaction with the T and C chemo and the lonquex hitting my bones in a serious way. However for the A and C chemo it was reintroduced and although after a week I do fall into the range of neutropenia, it does build up my white blood cells so that they are high enough for the next chemo.

Lonquex into t

The lonquex comes in a spring loaded syringe and is injected into my stomach. Unfortunately today the spring loaded mechanism did not function properly and so I just had to inject and pull it out like the traditional type... only when removed did the spring back work... typical!

This evening after having given myself the injection, I decided to head up to bed. I had my phone in my hand, a book and a charger for my phone. I also had the fob for setting the alarm so that I did not have to set it while downstairs and dash up to 'beat the beeps' thus avoiding setting it off as soon as I moved. Up the stairs I went and as I rounded the platform and went up the final three steps, my toe caught on the top step. Here is me, just after having major surgery, battling cancer and more scared of dropping my phone, as the saying goes when you fall with your phone you hope the crack is a bone ha ha ha, I hit the landing with a thud grazing my knee. Before I knew it, with book, charger and more importantly the phone clutched to my chest and the alarm fob, I was lifted by both arms with each of my sons at my side... bloody good job I hadn't broken my neck ha ha ha ha... I was virtually lifted into my bedroom and sat down, while one checked that I was OK, the other got tissue for my now bleeding knee, my brilliant caring boys had me sorted in no time, but,Oh Joy, another entry for sepsis or some other ruddy germ to hinder my progress, lets hope not.

The blanket

My wools

So it begins

I have decided to take on a challenge of making a very decorative Crocheted blanket over the next while. I don't think it is going to be too easy at all but it is a challenge that I have set myself. I have started it and am aiming to keep up as the pattern is downloaded in blocks every two weeks, so I need to speed up really, to keep up. With the chemo effecting the tips of my fingers with a lot of numbness of the right thumb and painful nail beds it is not too easy, but I am hoping by keeping my hands exercised in this way it will help the circulation and the feeling to come back into my fingers. I have also stocked up on acrylic paints, brushed and canvasses at painting is something I am also going to re take up. I had started a while back but with work and life it took a very far back seat. I think the peaceful process of picking out what to paint, how to paint it, working on light and shade as well as proportion I am hoping to create some lovely pieces... OK, you can all pick yourselves up of the floor from laughter now! lol

Well I am going to love you and leave you for now. This blog has been just an outline of the trials and tribulations of the past three weeks.  I now have a break of three weeks before CMF chemotherapy will begin. I was supposed to have a five week break, but the doctors have decided to increase the amount of CMF chemotherapy that I am to be given and so a third session of chemo begins on the 4th May.  This is going to be rather arduous as it is to run in conjunction with the 25 sessions of radiotherapy that I will be given. Also, the chemo is given every 8 days which does not leave me or my body time to recover between bouts. The fact that is to be given at the same time as radiotherapy will compound the after effects of both radiotherapy and the chemotherapy, so it looks like the last of my treatment will be something of a rough ride. I am hoping that it is not as tough as the doctors have told me it will be with the possibility of sores around the outside of my mouth as well as on the inside. This next bout will be the last of my treatment as, as I have stated many times throughout my blog there is no known medical cure for triple negative breast cancer. Chemotherapy is the sole treatment that is relied upon, so it is hoped that the 'bleach' that has been run through my system will have killed off the cancer cells. It is on this note that I will be cheeky enough to ask you to keep me in your prayers, that this cancer will be killed off, because the waiting around looking over your shoulder in fear of it's return is going to be psychologically, emotionally and physically draining. I am going to have to learn to try and live with this and not let fear rule me. I stand a 20% of it returning in five years, OK on the positive side that is an 80% chance of it not returning - however for my liking the odds of it coming back are too high. Everything is in the hands of the Gods now. Whatever will be will be.

As my tattoo says, "Time flies, Live Life!" I strongly recommend you do!

"Should you ever see me with boobs, Yes they will be fake, The real ones tried to kill me!

Chemo 3 of Round 2:

Hello all, I have left you in peace for a while as life has been flowing on. Considering that this chemo is particularly aggressive/strong, I am coping pretty well. Mind you, I am listening to my body and doing a lot of resting. The post chemo days are spent with plenty of sleep. I take strong anti sickness tablets for two days after chemo and these tend to work for the duration. I do have tablets on standby for the following days, but fingers crossed have not needed them. You can guarantee that I have just cursed that one so.... lol... This past two weeks a very nasty rash has appeared on the back of my head and neck. I have been given a cream to help them disappear, I hope they go soon they look disgusting. I have been keeping myself busy with a lot of activities of colouring, puzzles and ordering acrylic paint to take up painting once again.  It is ages since I last did any painting, this will be something of a challenge.

Following chemo 2 on Tuesday, we had confirmation that Gerry had to be in hospital on Friday of that week. He was to have part of his intestine removed due to Crohn's Disease. He was to be operated on that morning. I was not allowed to visit him on the ward as I would be approaching the period of time where neurtropenia sets in (the period where white cells are dangerously low and leave you with little or no immune system). Gerry's brother-in-law, Willie Dunne, was picking Gerry up at 6:00a.m. Friday morning. Gerry was operated on first thing that morning. He was back on the ward by three that afternoon. I drove up to the hospital that evening so that the boys could go and see their dad. He didn't look at all well and was still on morphine which had him on another planet all together.    The boys reported it all back to me, and I kept in close contact with the doctor and the nurses. I asked if I would be safe to attend the ward. I was told I could visit Gerry as long as I wore a face mask. So I did pay him a couple of visits. Each time he looked very pale, very unhappy, in a lot of pain and quite miserable.  After we left the hospital I decided to take the boys for a treat we went to Masala House in Arklow, where we enjoyed a lovely three course Indian meal. It was a lovely way to end what was something of a stressful day. We left the restaurant and I stopped off at the catholic church where I had a candle to add to the candle light vigil that was taking place. It was peaceful.

The following Tuesday I had my own appointment for mid chemo blood tests. These are the tests that I dread, because guaranteed I always get a call back saying something new has been found. This week was not to be any different. I had a call just after 5:30 Tuesday evening. I was no longer allowed to visit Gerry in hospital as I was now Neutropenic and had absolutely no immune system at all. The previous tests had shown poor liver functions, this week the liver was fine but the white cells had decided to up and go... the readings should be around the 15+ mark, mine happened to be 0.1. Low far too low indeed. Well that put paid to my trips to see Gerry. However I was very appreciative to Martina and Killian Clarke, Pat Clarke and Suzanne Deegan who visited Gerry whilst he was stuck on the ward.

That Thursday Gerry was discharged from the ward and Suzanne very kindly drove him home. Now the hard work would begin. Gerry was sent home with a drain attached and a wound about two and a half inches long, that started to seep. Seep it did, to the extent that on Easter Saturday I ended up phoning the caredoc who came to the house to have a look. We had to go to our own GP on the Following Tuesday the 29th March. This was the same day as my pre chemo assessment which was to take place 11:30 am. Gerry's doctors appointment was at 9:30 a.m. He went to the doctor and our doctor was amazed at the level of leakage from the wound and nothing going off into the drain. On our doctors advice we headed straight back to the hospital, once again at the kindenss of Suzy who remained with Gerry in A and E whilst I went off to the cancer day clinic for my own appointment. Nine hours later we were still there. I masked up and went into the A and E unit and decided enough was enough. I found the doctor that was supposedly treating Gerry, asked for the dressings and at everything needed to clean his wound myself (it was now leaking through his clothing) He had repeatedly asked to be seen and was fobbed off with - someone will be with you in five minutes, each five minutes turned to an hour etc. It was shocking. I had the cannula removed from his arm and brought him home. Worse still, the doctor agreed and said that she would have done the same if it was her. I was given a lot of dressings and told what to look out for. Shocking so it was, all I can say is that I am so  thankful that the cancer ward is not run in the same lackadaisical manner, or chances are I would not be here now.  Gerry's wound is now healing and the bleeding has stopped. However his patience level and understanding of the fact that he has to wait six weeks before driving can resume in order that he does not cause more harm than good to his internal organs is totally going over his head. Is that men for you or just some stubborn people in general?

Chemo going well

The following day was my chemo day. Once again Suzanne took me there. We were there for 8:30 am and seen immediately.  For the first time since last October, each part of the chemo system went amazingly smoothly. Niamh, the head nurse on the ward is great. She does not suffer fools gladly and is as straight as a die. She will tell people to leave when they are blocking the walkways between the Chemo beds, in all fairness it is a very narrow and long ward with approx 20 beds in a row. Each bed is furnished with an overhead TV that you listen to through headphones. The drips stands are either side of your bed and the beds have about three foot between them so it is fairly closed in with little or no room for people to accompany you. On saying that the nurses do so much to accommodate the family member or friend that comes with you. Gerry was allowed in to see the chemo being administered two weeks ago, Suzanne this week. I started by taking my strong anti sickness tablet (Emend), this was followed by an bag of anti sickness drip that flows to empty in a half hour. There is then a saline flush through and then the red A chemo is pumped through, This is followed by a bag of the C Chemo. This took approximately an hour an a half.  Suzanne had left to go to the shop so when I finished I went to the chapel and said a few prayers and lit a few candles for family, friends and all those attending St Anne's and St Helen's battling cancer on a daily basis. I found this particularly peaceful. It is the second time I have been to the church since my diagnosis and actually felt comfort coming out of there. I wonder if this is me returning to my faith, baby steps but they felt really good.

By the time we left the hospital, it was nearer quarter past eleven. As neither of us had had breakfast we decided that it was a good idea to get some food. We paid the parking and headed out of the hospital grounds. We ended up at Rathfarnham Castle where we enjoyed a lovely lunch in The Brambles. I had a very very tasty lasagne with side salad while Suzanne had the Roulade and side salad. Both very tasty indeed. It is good that with this chemo, the taste of food has altered a bit but I have not completely lost my taste buds which is good.

Ceiling in Rathfarnham castle

One of the Lotus's

One of the paintings of the
stations of the cross on the
ceiling

We went for a stroll around the castle and I was amazed at the beauty of the ceilings, the absolutely gorgeous antique furniture and the icy coldness in some spots around the castle. At one point we were in a really cold room, there was quite a haze near the seat in the bay window, standing there it was freezing, you could actually put your hand in the hazy area and feel a distinct difference in temperature, at this point my handbag fell off my shoulder. I have never seen Suzanne move so quickly, she was out of that room faster than Hussein Bolt. I laughed so hard I think a little wee came out....!!! We continued our trip around. The paintings  of the Loftus family were amazing, I wonder if they were the same Loftus's who had Loftus Hall in Wexford? I may look that one up. An artist had some work on display, I enjoy painting and will admit they are nothing fantastic, but dear God, I think the artist must have been smoking some heavy shit when she painted these, not only that, she must have had a double dose when she made up her price list. On this I will say no more.... lol

Chandelier in the
ball room.

We went to Suzanne's house to pick up Saragh (her daughter) and I was driven home to Arklow. Suzanne and Saragh stopped for a short while before returning home. Gerry and I relaxed and before I knew what was what I was doing my impression of Rip Van Winkle. I slept like a baby. That is one of the big affects that this chemotherapy has on me. It totally knocks me out.

Feeling OK just tired
 after chemo

Today I woke up early and took my first tablets of the day, two anti sickness pills and two steroids. Usually I sleep immediately, but today I tried to remain awake for a while. Katie called around for a cuppa and a chat. Very nice time spent catching up. In all fairness, my sentence structure and thought processing started to wane a bit. Katie could see that I was on the verge of falling asleep, and after a while left to let me sleep. I dozed a while, but in the afternoon needed to get to the banks and pay the mortgage. All bills paid and back home for a rest. The smallest of jobs have you dead on your feet. So home it was to rest up. Here I am now just typing up the info for the blog and can feel my eyes closing as I do. I am going to bid you all a good afternoon and evening. I hope you all have a good week, June Dillon, especially you. I hope you have good news in the week and look forward to hearing from you. I also look forward to the visitor I am receiving this weekend, Mum, Dad, My Sister Diane and my Nephew Andrew. Have a good sailing folks and see you tomorrow... hmm I feel and addition to my blog coming on.  Love to you all. 

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”―Haruki Murakami

My blossoming lock

Chemo 2 of session 2 - Wow...

I ended the my last blog on the words: 

"I am signing off now and will post after next chemo, unless anything else happens between now and then :)"

Well I decided to keep the blog until after the second session of chemo. Everything went relativity smoothly this past two weeks, with a minor hiccough, mid way between chemo, I was called in for the baseline bone and organ CT scan. I have been waiting for this scan since I was informed about the residual cancer cells. The scan   is one of those times that have you up and down emotionally. With all sorts running through your head while you wait for the results... it tends to build up in stages which I will describe  as we progress through this weeks blog.

Following this first chemo I began to wonder if I had developed some form of Narcolepsy. I was dropping off to sleep at every given moment. At one point Gerry and I were talking, he turned to look at me for answer and there I was, head leaning back on the sofa, head lolling to one side, mouth hanging open on the verge of drooling, eyes shut and out for the count. Gerry put a blanket over me and that was me for the night. Unconscious. .. And no, I can't accuse Gerry of being boring. This was the scenario for the next three to four days after the chemo, sheer fatigue and exhaustion. I actually took this to be great. I slept through what could have been a vomit fest, more on that one later. 

One week after chemo, the following Tuesday, I was back in for a needle aspiration. The nurse looked at the left operation site and decided that there was no more aspirating needed, that was good news for me. I am to keep an eye on the whole site as there is fluid that is increasing slightly causing the skin to pull tight and my muscles across my chest feeling like an expanding and contracting elastic band stretching left and right each time I breath, feeling like it could at any given moment snap in the middle, with skin feeling as thought it could tear right open. I hope you haven't just eaten your dinner as you read this, unfortunately this is the reality of what life is now like, fortunately I am here to tell you all, all about it, and hopefully, my experience will encourage you all, men and women to check your bodies, be it boobs, testicles or going for those dignity destroying cervical or prostate gland checks... yes lads, we had to find a test that you guys have to endure just as a little indication of what us women have to face on a regular basis. It is at this moment a t.v. advert from the 80's/90's springs to mind involving a finger of fudge ... OK I'll stop there ;P

The next day, Wednesday the 9th March, I was once again back in hospital. I was back here for my CT scan. Suzanne was very good and accompanied me to the scan. We decided to meet up for lunch first as the scan was not until 2:30 in the afternoon. I had checked that I did not need to fast before the scan, I didn't, so yes a nice lunch was on the cards. I just have to point out here that my anti-sickness tablets had at this point run out. I take very strong tablets for two days after chemo and one milder tablet for the next three days. They finished on Sunday. Today was now the following Wednesday. For the past couple of days I have felt slight nausea but have not actually vomited.  Suzanne had picked me up from the house for the scan. We headed towards Dublin debating where we should stop for lunch. Was it to be pub grub, a little restaurant or a drive through. Neither of us fancied the pub, or restaurant, so as we were on the road I suggested a MacDonald's. Neither of us had had a Maccy D's for a long time, not since the scare mongering of pink slime and 8 legged chicken rumours were doing the rounds. Maccy D's it was then in Carrickmines. I was glad we were stopping for the food now, one thing about this chemo is that I do get hungry at meal times and feel weak if I don't get my food. Total opposite of the previous chemo I had been given. The last time I had a MacDonald's we ordered food from a person in one booth, paid that person and picked it up from the next booth. Now its talk to a person in the booth via a speaker of sorts, go to the booth to pay the said person to whom you were talking to via the speaker, and go to next booth to pick up meal. OK... very American, but why put a middle man in between you and the cashier seeing as it is the cashier you are speaking to anyway? Does it make sense? No! Only one explanation, you are to have as little contact with person in the booth, just in case you manage to get them to crack a smile and by the looks of it, that could be breaking company policy... who knows! Two Big Mac Meals, One coke, one milkshake and two Crunchy McFlurries. OMG food fest..... The burger was lovely, I only managed some of my milkshake as it was giving me cheek and jaw ache just trying to suck it up the straw. The mcflurry was pure indulgence - Ice cream with crunchy pieces in it. Lovely. Filling. We ate our food in the park up area, collected the empty wrappers and half drunk shake and mcflurry tubs. We put them into the bag ready to dispose of when we found a bin. That earlier feeling of nausea was making a little bit of a come back and heartburn was starting to kick in. OK... perhaps no more MacDonald's for a while. 

There was still over an hour to kill before the scan, so we decided to head towards the hospital so that hopefully I would get in early, well on time anyway. We headed back to the Stillorgan Road and made our way to the hospital.  There was now just over 30 min left to the appointment.  I checked in at reception and Suzanne and I took seats in the waiting area. A nurse came out and called "Elaine Murphy!" I stood ready to go for the scan, Ah, Elaine, and she handed me a bottle of dye that had to be drunk prior to the scan, luckily I had a picc line fitted in my arm for the chemo, so there was no need for a cannula to be fitted for the extra dye that would be administered when in the scanner. I made my way back to the seat and looked with rolling eyes at the bottle of drinkable dye that was going to make my insides glow like the body of a crash test dummy from a nuclear plant. It was to be drunk over a period of an hour with 10 min spaces between each cup of gunk. I opened the bottle poured the liquid into the polystyrene cup and swigged it back, down it went, I set my phone for the 10 min intervals.  I looked over at Suzanne, 

"are you feeling at all hot?" I asked her

"No, I'm just right" Said Suzanne "Are you hot?"

"I am, I feel like I'm getting hotter and hotter, is my face red?"

"Yup, very... sit and relax to try cooling down"?

The beeper went off, and I poured another cup. I sipped it a bit slower, once again I felt it going down. I became even hotter than before. In fact, I felt like my head was going to burst open and I could feel my short hair sticking to my now soaking head. I started to feel very bloody restless too.

"Why don't you walk out by the balcony and see if it is any cooler" suggested Suzanne

I did... It wasn't! My legs were starting to shake. 

I returned to my seat, poured the next cup of dye and drank it down, the bottle was now less than half full. As I drank it down, now I could follow its journey to my stomach down, down, down it went... Up, up, up I rose, throwing the content of my arms, bottle, cup, bag, glasses and book into Suzanne lap, sweating like a race horse, I charged to the toilet. As I entered, and locked the door behind me, I shoved my hand into my mouth to remove my false tooth - I don't want to be fishing that out of a public pan in a hospital, God knows what has been down there -  and I quickly and manically leaned over the loo and projectile vomited into it, not once, not twice, not three times but four massive projectile vomits hitting that pan at the speed of light, bye bye, dye, mcflurry, milk shake and burger. Bye bye breakfast of toast, bye bye yesterdays tea. Now the one problem is, Since breaking my back nearly 13 years ago, and the life long nerve damage, I have the small problem that any stress on the bladder has dire consequences, unfortunately, I was not at home so could not sit on the loo and chuck into a bowl on my knee, ensuring that that all bodily fluids are flushed or washed away. So, here I was hurling for Ireland, legs crossed tightly, praying in my mind that my bladder did not synchronise itself with each retch of my emptying stomach. The waves eased and I straightened up. I flushed the toilet and turned to the sink, turned on the tap, my face and head were warm, I was just about to douse myself with water when... Oh God Nooooo..... I rapidly stood, turned to face the toilet, in this rotational movement my mouth opened and out shot the most violent of projectile vomit I have ever had, it did the perfect arc in the air, and nose dived into the pan, it seemed to last for ever. How in the name of all that is Holy, I did not decorate the walls and floor I will never know. In fact, If vomiting was an Olympic sport I would have been given platinum never mind gold. I just wish the 'Slow Mo' guys could have got that one, NOW I felt better. I flushed, washed my hands and face and and wet my head. someone was knocking on the door, I hope that they were not standing outside right now or I would be tempted to knock on their head, after all I am sure the entire hospital could hear my retching and gurgling. I opened the door and the knocker was gone. I returned to my seat, now looking quite pale. I still had just under half a bottle of dye  to drink. I certainly was not going to tell them I had lost the other half to the sewage system of Dublin City, sure it would have already coated my insides on its way both up and down, there you go doubly coated. I finished what was left of the dye and by quarter to four was called in to the CT Scan room.  I lay on the bed of the machine, arms above my head and was sent through the small tunnel for the bone scan, a different dye was now injected into the picc line, this dye makes your insides go all warm, well hot, and gives you the sensation of having urinated on the bed... O bugger, not again... lol... they waited a few minutes and once again I was sent through the tunnel for the organ scan. It was over before I knew it. I got up and was told that my results would be with Professor Crown in a week. This was going to be a long week. 

I left the scan room and returned to Suzanne who was driving me home, we drove home in an unusually quiet car, the vomiting had left me feeling quite weak. We arrived back in Arklow, Suzanne stopped for a cuppa with Gerry and the boys and I sat on the sofa still quite weak. In my head I was telling myself that the scan would not show up any more cancer.

celebrating the clear scan
with Suzanne

The stages:

1. The scan will be clear, it won't show up any more cancer.
2. No, no more cancer will be found.
3. What if there is cancer found?
4. What if it has gone to either my bones or my lungs?
5. How will I break the news to my family?
6. I had better start making a will.
7. I had better find and take out a burial insurance. Just in case!
8. I had better sort out this mortgage and how the home will be kept if I do go.
9. What if this cancer has spread and is no longer curable?
10. Speak to those I want as executors of my will.
11. Sort out a solicitor
12. Jaysus Elaine, cop on, it may not have spread at all, (giving myself a good talking to)
13. Friday (two days later) Yes all the above happens and escalates very quickly in your mind - contacted GP, is there any way you can get results from my scan as I have myself looking up the arse end of a jam jar here. (I worded it more politely than that). My GP is brilliant and is the most helpful, kindest and caring person, who does anything in her power to help you. By the afternoon, Dr. June Coates had contacted the hospital and they had informed her that the report from the scan was still waiting to be written up and Dr. Coates said that I was not to worry. We had a lovely chat and I came off the phone feeling a lot better. Jennifer and Mark were round tonight for a few drinks. Mark regaled us with his stories and had us all in fits of laughter. We are lucky to have them as our neighbours. When this is all over we will have them here again with our friends  Jo and Paul McDonald - who so kindly brought me a bottle of wine when I was first diagnosed, with the guidelines for it  to only to be drunk when I get the all clear. It is still here and still waiting folks. :)
14. Saturday - the Scan will be clear - It starts again!
15. What if it isn't
16. How do I tell my family - images of the hurt and sadness fill every waking and sleeping hour. Nightmares, not of me dying but of the hurt this is causing my family and friends. 
17. Waking from my sleep sweating, sitting on the edge of the bed trying not to wake Gerry, He has woken far too many times in the night and knowingly put is arm over me when he sensed I was quietly crying. I creep downstairs and sit quietly. Trying to distract my mind with books, TV or going on line. 
18. Fall asleep on the sofa exhausted
19. Sunday - repeat of Saturday
20. Monday - Pre Chemo Assessment day - bloods, height, weight and blood pressure. All was going well until the blood pressure was taken 175/150 - phenomenally high. "Elaine is there anything bothering you or are you worring about anything?" "Yes" I said, "my scan results. I have had myself dead and buried 100 times over this last week." "I am not allowed to give out results, but this is different, Elaine your scan came back very clear, the cancer has not spread" I will re- take your blood pressure tomorrow. 
21. Wild relief, shaking, instant happiness and lighter in spirit, feeling free, feeling that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and this time it is not a train.... or ..... is it?

Referring back to point 16, The ripple effects on others that cancer has, besides the person who is carrying it, is devastating. In fact, in all honesty it surpasses any fear you may have of dying. Time seems to go by in a flash yet as you look around at people, as they go by carrying on with  their daily routine, you feel strange. Not strange in a sick/ill way, but in a trance like surreal way. You see life so differently, you have a massive reality check on what is important and what is not. You feel 'detached' from the normality of what makes up everyday life. Of what makes you, you! In one sense you become more assertive. You have to. It is a time when you are extremely vulnerable in one sense yet extremely strong and assertive in another. A sense of acting practically, no matter how unconventional to others, has become a way of life. As I mentioned before, when others say "oh stay positive, don't talk like that" you feel like saying "When you have walked in my shoes, you tell me to be positive" because in reality what these people are saying is, "don't look at the 'bad' side it wont happen, just think of the 'good' side when you have the all clear!' In other words 'stick your head in the sand until it blows over'. The problem therein, lies in the fact that, what if this does not blow over, you have not got your house in order, you have left your husband and children with debt, no funeral paid for, no way of managing. No wills made, no safe haven for them, wolves at the door. No way! that is not happening here. I have been given a reality check. One massive one. I have seen first hand how the death of either the matriarch or patriarch of the family has torn families asunder, siblings at war, time and time again. Friends, colleagues, and some family. How greed, in-house fighting and tearing homes apart have estranged people and I won't have that happen to my children. No... everything will be in order. The reality is, that one day we all have to go, and when that day comes, yes it will be dreadfully sad for all involved, but it will also be unhindered by debts and worry. They will be looked after by me looking after the practicalities of my life. One we all have to face one time or another. My advise is, don't wait for that reality check. Do it now while you have the time, never make the mistake of thinking things won't happen to you. Because people, they do.  I returned home on the Monday afternoon after my PCA (pre chemo assessment). I logged onto the PDST (Professional Development Services for Teachers) where I have been on line tutoring for the last couple of months and was marking some work that had come in. My phone rang. 

'Hi is that Elaine?'

"Yes it is, who is this?"

"It is Helen from St. Anne's Day Ward, you were in for your PCA today."

"Yes I was!"

"Elaine, Your LFT's (Liver Function Tests) came back very high. I know you are in for half 8 in the morning for chemo, but I have now put you in for a liver scan for nine and I will be doing a Hepatitis screening test (bloods), a formality when LFT's come back this elevated"

"Oh OK, well will the chemo be given tomorrow?"

"As long as the hepatitis is negative it will. We just need to check that there is no liver problem"

"OK. I will see you tomorrow"

Well now, I ask  you, Isn't that a surprise? I get the all clear from the scan, now there is a problem with my liver, yet again I am thrown another curve ball. I wonder, will this treatment ever go smoothly? As my friend and colleague, Geraldine said the other evening on the phone, If things did go smoothly I would be concerned. That is true as it would be so out of the ordinary at this stage.

Gerry and I headed for the hospital on Tuesday at 6:45 am. We arrived for half 8, the traffic was beyond chaotic. I checked in and we both took a seat waiting to be called for the hepatitis screening. At about 9:00 am the door opened, a head stuck in and muttered 'Elaine Murphy' ever so fast and disappeared again, nobody even saw who he was. I asked out loud "Did he just say Elaine Murphy?" some nodded others looked perplexed and said 'Not sure to be honest" I got up and  left the room, not a sinner in sight. We couldn't even trace who he was, but we finally found out that It was time to go for the scan, Here we were directed from pillar to post, ultrasound sent us to liver scan, liver scan, sent us to another liver scan and ultrasound area. In I went and the scan was carried out, all was clear for damage or cancer. Back to St Anne's. Called for bloods to be taken from the picc for the hepatitis screening. We had to wait a couple of hours for the results so we went for something to eat. I had to fast for this scan so at this point I was ready to eat a horse between two mattresses. Then I recalled the projectile vomiting... Nope a chicken baguette with lettuce, sweetcorn, onion, and mayo will do, and a bottle of water to wash it down. Gerry had eaten at home so just had a danish pastry for now. We ate in silence, each of us with our own thoughts going on, then reading the paper and googling stuff on the phone... Then a thought struck me...

"Hey Gerry, I hope you have been washing your hands after the loo, and before preparing meals, It says here that hepatitis can be caught through the digestion of shit!" Holy God! when will I ever learn ... stop reading stuff of the Internet. I then started listing all the places I had eaten in and realised what a huge amount of trust we put into those preparing a meal for us. Dear God it could have been the shitty hands of the chef in the restaurant on Mothering Sunday. "That was pepper corn sauce wasn't it Gerry?" Bloody hell, I will be OCD before this is all over!

Back to St. Anne's Day Ward, Gerry and I took seats and Gerry watched the TV while I read. We were called out by the doctor who explained the elevated results are because of the chemo. My liver is having difficulty processing the chemo and the function of the liver is slowing down. I am to look at my skin, eyes and the colour of my urine and other. If one is too dark the other very light go to the hospital, if I become jaundiced looking go to the hospital. In the meantime chemo is to go ahead. 'Yay'. 

Niamh the head nurse came in and told me to take my first anti-sickness tablet. I was directed to a chemo bed and the first bag was put up. A bag of anti-sickness fluid. The nurse came back with the first part of the chemo. This is the chemo that is put in through the pump (or large syringe), is is very strong and needs diluting for the veins to be able to tolerate it so a bag of saline is fed into the picc at the same time. Following this I was given another bag of flush through to clear the line and veins and Chemo two was set up. Whilst I was sitting patiently I looked down at my black top that I had on, What the heck, Where has all this hair come from? Yep it was me, moulting, yes my newly grown fluff was falling out. The timing could not have been better.... Oh well, at least I know it will grow back. Head shave when I get home. 

Gerry and I left the hospital and headed home. Ms Cluskey from the boys school had offered to bring the boys home, so we were able to go straight home. I put the chair back in the car and fell fast asleep. Gerry woke me as we entered Arklow. He stopped at tesco for a couple of items and we headed home. I was shattered. The boys arrived not long after and decided to put a pizza on for themselves. Gerry had sandwiches and I settled for a pot noodle. Too tired for a meal. I was a bit restless, Gerry headed up to be and I remained in the recliner. I had slept so much in the day that sleep was now impossible. But it did come eventually and was comfortable and peaceful. 

Gerry had a phone call this evening, he is to be admitted into hospital at 7:30 am Friday morning for part of his intestine to be removed because of a blockage in his intestine leading to his bowel. It will be a strange and quiet few days at home for me, while Gerry recuperates after surgery. I hope he makes a fast and full recovery, we will both be looking after each other now. Novena for a lottery win now so that we can get through this tough time. Fingers crossed all. 

I was awake early, and tried to doze. I was up by 7 helping Gerry and the boys prepare for their day. They all left by 8 and I set up my corner for work. I took my anti sickness tablets and steroids. I could feel myself starting to feel drowsy. Suzanne called for a short visit and had a cuppa with me. We chatted about life and how things can change in the blink of an eye. My god, after all, who would have seen this one coming. After Sue left I felt my eyes closing. And close they did for almost 5 hours. I woke in time to finish my work as the course closed today. Everything was done and had gone very smoothly. I had put on a chicken for today, the veg was put in the pan and spuds peeled and cut so a lovely roast dinner was had. Our evening routine done, and I sat down to blog, but I am a funny old fish, Once I start something I can't stop until it is finished. It is now 1:41 a.m. So my wonderfully supportive readers I am going to bid you a peaceful good night, and in the words of the late, great Dave Allen "May Your God Go With You!" 

Good night, and God Bless you all.