Home, sweet Home. Amber was so excited to see me but Pat had to shield me from her in case what stitches remained got torn or she knocked me over, which wouldn’t have been difficult given that I had lost a great deal of weight.
Pat was now back to having to do everything just as she had during the chemotherapy treatment. The difference was that I could hold a conversation and at least be somewhat sociable, not that Pat had much time to sit and talk. We’d been able to do plenty of that in the hospital.
Because we weren’t going to be able to rely on the District Nurses being available every day, a nurse at the hospital had shown her how to give me a daily injection using a pillow as the patient. No vein was necessary but I’m not sure which of us was the most nervous when the first one had to be done. As it was, she did it perfectly and it became just another part of our daily routine.
Within a short time, however, the surgical wound in my back started to become painful. When Pat looked at it she wasn’t happy and suggested we go to the hospital to have it checked but I felt it could be left until the appointment that had been made for me at what was termed the “hot clinic” which was in a couple of days. Bad mistake. By the time we arrived at the ‘hot clinic’ the pain was considerably worse. The doctor we were due to see had been called away to an emergency and while we waited, for what seemed an eternity, the pain became unbearable. When we finally got to the doctor and he looked at the wound, he immediately sent the nurse assisting him for items to clean the wound which had become badly infected. This had been caused by the fact that the hospital had removed a number of the stitches before I had been discharged but had left some in place because the wound hadn’t completely closed up. The doctor removed the remaining stitches and dressed the wound. The relief was palpable. More assessments were to come and more procedures were to follow at a pace.
On the 14th August I had a gastro X-ray taken then, later, after just two weeks, I underwent, much earlier than had been planned, further surgery to my bowel to right a minor problem and remove the stoma bag. Another five days in hospital and more visits from Pat to heap even more problems on her shoulders.
After my discharge it was time to meet up with Mr.Mukherjee again. At this time I believed my treatment was over and it was purely a matter of recovery. Wrong. It was felt necessary for me to undergo a further 9 week session of chemotherapy.
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