The Sun Has Got His Hat On!

Saturday. Too right. The sun has definitely got his hat on and he's coming out to play. It's really warm and sunny. This afternoon is the funeral of The Duke of Edinburgh. Only thirty people were allowed in the chapel at Windsor Castle but some 800 troops in the parade within the castle. The Queen will sit, alone and masked. Poor woman! That shouldn't be allowed, even with social distancing. (Thinks: 'social distancing' is an oxymoron. Never thought about it before. A contradiction in terms.)

I've just been to Waitrose for a few items, including eggs. They are double-yolkers. But, just tell me, how can they be certain that they have double yolks? Surely double yolks in chicken's eggs are rarer than, dare I say it, hen's teeth. You wouldn't know an egg contains a double yolk until you crack it. It's a bit like saying, which comes first, the chicken or egg. Are they guaranteed? If I take it back when I find that one doesn't have a double yolk, can I get a refund? Do they have an X-Ray machine to check? I remember, years ago, going to the egg-packing station which was in Bedford, somewhere in Horne Lane, probably where a carpark now takes up the land (probably not, as I have an idea it's been redeveloped, with flats there, but couldn't be sure.) Anyway, as the eggs went along the production line (packing line would probably be more correct. No chickens were harmed in the course of this entire procedure.) and at one point they were held against a light which showed if they were bad (well, I imagine that was what it was for.) So, perhaps that is how they would be checked for double yolks. All this sounds very like the Ardman Animation film 'Chicken Run.' If you've not seen it, you must, it's brilliant, and has to be one of my all-time favourite films. Clever, funny and so original.

I've started a new drama series on Amazon called 'Leonardo.' I have had something of an obsession with Leonardo Da Vinchi, so this seemed a good show to at least have a look at. The part of Leonardo is played by Aiden Turner, who played Ross Poldark in the rebooted BBC1 series. I seem to remember him in another series based on the lives of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, 'Desperate Romantics,' in which he played another painter, Dante Gabriel Rosetti. I can't say it's particularly dynamic but they seem to have got the period right and it makes a change to have something that isn't about people being horrible to each other, jumping in and out of bed, car chases, or shooting up drugs or killing one another.

Sunday. 6.55a.m. I woke up at around 2a.m. This is normal for me. I had a shave and did my Bible reading on YouVersion, ' 2021:A Year Through The Bible With Nicky Gumble', and as usual, Alfie followed me from room to room. A time to then check emails and then back to bed. Alfie kept on prodding me as he thinks I will just jump up and take him out. If anything, he keeps me motivated. 

It's another bright and sunny morning, although not particularly warm, as I discovered when I took Alfie out as normal.

Later. I got back from Church to be greeted by Alfie, excited as he is usually when I come home. He was a real sight, hair everywhere. He had been rolling about on the sofa and it really made me laugh. Eventually, he settled down, but it made me think that his haircut is more than ever important. Just a pity it won't be until July.

Later still. Alfie needed to go out in a hurry, so we did just that. Oldbrook Green is heaving with life. People everywhere, sitting on the grass, playing football, some children in the skateboard park, others in the playground. Then, add to that the litter, which is everywhere. With enough bins, why can't people put their rubbish in the bins which are there for that purpose? Likewise, dog mess. Just not nice. I could go on, but I won't.

Monday. 7.50a.m. Yet another bright and sunny morning. 

Alfie had a bit of what I can only describe as a 'situation' this morning. As a result, he was somewhat smelly. To say he was embarrassed by it would be untrue. If he has an unfortunate accident (!) he gives me such a look that can only be described as contrite. The only answer to the situation was to put him in the bath. He doesn't enjoy it, but he was going to have to put up with it. I had to organise thing beforehand, run the bath and make sure the water wasn't too hot and I had enough towels and the plastic jug nearby to use to rinse him. He shivered a lot, which showed he wasn't enjoying things. I took him out of the bath and, he shook himself, which is what all dogs do when wet. I managed to towel dry him sufficiently to allow him into the lounge but the bedroom door shut tight as I really didn't want him in there. As I write this he is sitting in his favourite place on the back of the sofa, looking somewhat disheveled but I can't take him out until he is dry.

Second Stent and Third . . . Possibly

If you read my blog posts on a regular basis, you will know that after I had my heart attack at the beginning of September I was taken to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford when I had a stent inserted. I then had to go for a scan using what is called a 'Gamma Camera,' which showed that I had some damage to my heart and a blockage which needed treating with a further stent. I was booked to have this procedure done on 12th December and had arranged to be taken by someone from church, but this was the day after Carol passed away and when I arrived at the unit at the hospital in Oxford I was in something of a state because of Carol's passing and the procedure was postponed. The new date was offered, for yesterday, 30th January.

The procedure I was about to have is called a Percutaneous Coronary Intevention (PCI).

I had to be at the Cardiac Angiography Suite (which is part of the Cardiology Department at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford) for 7.30a.m. So Tim O'Brien (who was driving me there).) arrived at 5.45a.m. to make sure we arrived at the hospital in good time. As it turned out we were there by a little after 7.a.m. Fortunately, because of the abortive appointment, we knew exactly where to go and could park the vehicle on the lay-by directly outside. I was let into the waiting area and so had to wait until the unit was officially open.

People began to arrive. Around 7.30 one of the nurses came in and told us we could go through to the ward. I began to change into a hospital gown. I find these garments difficult because you have to tie do up the ties at the next and lower on your back. You really need someone to do it for you, but I eventually managed. I had bought a bag with my things in it. I was told I needed to bring a dressing gown and slippers. Which was just as well, because I didn't fancy wandering around the ward in that hospital gown because they have no back and you need to tie them up tightly otherwise you reveal all and sundry if you're not careful. Then it was just a question of waiting (which you seem to do a great deal of in a hospital, which I can testify to with some authority over the last year-and-a-half or probably more.)

A nurse came to ask me questions about my health, for example, did I have any allergies, was I diabetic, as well as going through my medications. I had bought the entire lot of medications and he went though it all and made a list. Then, the usual 'obs' were done, (observations), temperature, blood pressure etc etc. This is done at regular intervals when you are in any hospital.

Patients were coming and going, some in wheelchairs, others on beds which were trundled about by nurses and porters. People went off to have their procedures. I wasn't long before I was taken into the lab (not an operating theatre.) I had to have a catheter inserted in my right arm. I'm not much good with needles or other sharp items, particularly if they are inserted into my person, at times such as this or when giving blood, but they managed to do this. All part of the preparations necessary before the procedure can be carried out.

Then it was my time to be taken into the lab for the procedure sitting in a wheelchair. I'm not sure whether it was the same 'lab' as the one I was in for the first stent to be inserted after my second heart attack. There was a long, narrow bench or bed which I at first sat on and then laid down on. A series of monitors overhead and a range of what looked like cameras or perhaps they were X-ray machines, because the team who would do the procedure were viewing my arteries and veins on the X-ray monitors so as to find where the blockages in my heart were which were to be opened up by the stent during the procedure.

I was given a local anathesthetic in my right arm (which was laying on the edge of the bed.) Because I had become somewhat stressed by the whole process I was also given a sedative to help me get through the procedure.

It was rather uncomfortable having my right arm put into a somewhat difficult and unusual position. I could barely feel a thing as the procedure continued. Quite a few people in the room, but I kept my eyes tightly closed throughout. I think there was a sort of sensation as the stent was pushed through a vein in my arm and into my heart. The whole process lasted around 45 minutes. At the end I was told I could sit up, but, due to the sedation, I was not able to do this myself and required assistance from one of the nurses. I was then able to lay on the bed in the ward and after about an hour or more was taken up to the ward where I had a single en-suite room. A good deal larger than the room Carol had in Milton Keynes hospital and with a good deal more room to store clothes and personal belongings.

I was expecting to be discharged fairly quickly. I had intended phoning or texting Tim so that he could come back to the hospital to collect me for the journey home, but I was then told that I would need to stay over-night. I rang Tim more or less immediately because I didn't want him waiting around in Oxford unnecessarily. He told me that he probably wouldn't be able to come back to collect me the next day, so I began to enquire as to busses or taxi cabs into the centre of Oxford as I had thought my only alternative transport would be to catch an X5 bus back home to Milton Keynes from the Oxford central bus station, which was how we had often visited Oxford in the past. I was also told that I wouldn't be able to drive for a week. No problem there. It would mean I wouldn't be able to do any shopping. That is, to drive anywhere in order to do shopping. But then it occurred to me that this wasn't actually a problem because I could do an on-line shopping order with Sainsbury's and have the order delivered. No need to lift anything, particularly with my right hand which was where the wound for the stent was. At that time, tightly bandaged and taped.

I had a ham sandwich to eat some time after I had the procedure. It was just as well I had that to eat because I wasn't supposed to eat anything after 4a.m. I had a meal as I usually do at home at 6p.m., so it was a long time to wait for food and my the time I was done with the procedure I was hungry. Then I was told that I would be moving to a ward upstairs and this move was done fairly promptly. So I was taken to the Cardiology ward and had an ensuite room. A good deal larger than the one Carol had when she was in Milton Keynes hospital. I noticed how quiet it was, too.

I was seen by a doctor and told that I ha actually had more than one stent fitted during the procedure. The wound on my right wrist seemed to be healing quickly, there was no bleeding or redness. As it was tightly bandaged and taped (with that adhesive tape which is very tacky and when they come to take it off it's so sticky it almost takes your skin with it!) I had the obligatory ECG done which showed no problems with my heart and I knew I would then have to spend the night at the John Radcliffe until I was discharged in the morning or whenever the doctors did their ward rounds.

I had an evening meal. I will say one thing: the food at the John Radcliffe is  good deal better than you get as a patient at Milton Keynes hospital.

So, I spent a relatively good night. None of the noise you usually get on a hospital ward. I felt sorry for Carol having to endure screaming and dreadful noise when she was on the various wards at Milton Keynes hospital. Even the staff were quiet, not talking and keeping me awake. I suppose having a room to myself did help, but in all honesty I think I prefer to be on a ward with other people and enjoy having conversations with other patients, but I shouldn't complain. At least I had my own toilet which meant I didn't have to go gar, although things were impeded because I had a heart monitor affixed to my person and a little later I had to have a saline drip, which was on a wheeled stand which I had to push around if I needed the toilet. The drip was because I had a dye put in my veins so that they could see clearly what they were doing during the stent procedure. The drip was for four hours.

In the morning I had breakfast at 8 o'clock and the usual obs were done and eventually a doctor came at around 10-11 and I was told I could be discharged. It all depended on the relevant paperwork being ready as well as any new medication I was to be put on. I was originally told it could be 'lunchtime,' but then I was told 'late afternoon.' I wasn't sure how I was going to get home. I had decided I would need to get a bus from Oxford bus station, the X5, which goes through Oxford to Cambridge, stopping at Bicester, Buckingham and Milton Keynes on the way. As I have a bus pass I wouldn't have to pay. Carol and I had used it on several occasions when we'd visited Oxford and when we didn't want the bother of driving and then having to find a carpark, although we usually used the Park and Ride system which made life easier.

I then got a text from Tim to say he had managed to reorganise himself and he would be able to come back and collect me, which was a relief as I wasn't keen on using the bus because I wasn't certain what would happen if I had a problem with the wrist wound, whether it would bleed and what I would do if that happened. I just needed to be able to text him or phone him once I was certain that everything was done, including the medication and the paperwork before I let him know so he could drive over from Milton Keynes (which takes at least and hour and a quarter.)

I got a visit from the pharmacist who went through my medication (I had taken all my proscribed medication with me.) and I was even given some which was at the point of running out, which meant I didn't have to put in a repeat prescription when I returned to Milton Keynes.) Even the paperwork was complete which meant I could ring Tim. I was at last able to go home. So, at around 4.30 Tim texted to say he had arrived on the hospital campus. I was taken down stairs to street-level by one of the nurses and Tim arrived and I was able to leave. The journey back to Milton Keynes was relatively stress-free, apart from a built up of traffic on the A34, basically because it was, by now, home-going time for most people and we arrived back in Eaglestone at around 6.30-7.00. The house was cold because the central heating hadn't been on for well over 24 hours and it took me a while to get it set up to warm the house.

First Chemotherapy Session

A hard freeze over-night made conditions outside quite difficult this morning. We had to be at the hospital at 9 o'clock. Apparently there was something of a mix-up over an appointment to have the PICC line attached for the chemotherapy (A Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter).  Carol had to go to the X-Ray department to have this line put in. I'm not entirely sure what was involved, but we walked all the way from the oncology department and when we got there were told that she wasn't booked, which was something of an annoyance. So we walked all the way back to the oncology department and a couple of telephone calls were made and she was booked in so we had to walk all the way back to X Ray department. Sitting round near the scanning rooms, where M.R.I. and X-Ray  two men in uniforms appeared in the main waiting area. At first we thought they might have been policeman, but when we saw they had a third individual chained to them it was clear that they were prison warders and the third individual was a prisoner. Then a nurse came through to where we were sitting and asked us to kindly move along the seating so they come come through to wait. No doubt the prisoner was going to have an X-Ray or be scanned by the M.R.I. scanner. The sights you observe when out and about.

It wasn't long before Carol was called in. I just had to wait. It was a longer wait than expected. I had my iPhone with me. The thing rang. It was one of those companies attempting to sell some sort of financial product, but I wasn't interested and told the guy on the other end of the line I wasn't interested but he tried in vain to keep the conversation going. I managed to end the call, but it's annoying to get these 'cold calls'. I can't think where they get my mobile number from and why they think it's alright to ring on the off-chance that you'd be interested in such a product. Apart from anything, I think it's an invasion of privacy.

Carol came out after having the PICC line put in. She said it was a relatively short procedure but the process of setting it up and then being signed off took longer. Seems crazy somehow.

We returned to the oncology unit. The nurses set up a drip with glucose first and after an hour or two the actual chemotherapy solution was set up. Towards the end of the session they set up carol with a small pump which we went home with so the treatment could continue over-night.  In all the session it took several hours and we eventually left the unit at around 5.30. People came in and spent the day similar to Carol, some leaving after several hours.

At the end of the day a doctor came in to tell us that there was a sign from the blood test that Carol was slightly anaemic and the following day she would need a blood transfusion. A pity we would need to come back the next day as we were hoping to have a day away from the hospital.

A Royal Connection?

We have been hearing (or reading, or listening, depending on how you read the news.) about the Duke Of Edinburgh  (ie: husband, and Consort of The Queen, Elizabeth II,  monarch of  Great Britain.) being taken to Papworth Hospital due to the fact that he had complained of a pain in his chest over the Christmas holiday while staying at Sandringham, the royal Norfolk estate. I only mention this because I went to Papworth for tests after I had my heart attack. He had an operation to insert a stent into a blood vessel to unblock a blood clot. For anyone who doesn't know what a stent is, it's a quite amazing invention, inserted into the vein in the patient's groin and then gradually worked up through the vein, and the surgeon can see this using X-ray. The end of the stent is a tiny umbrella-like construction, which, when in the correct position, is  opened up, thus enlarging the vein and helping the blood to flow properly and preventing a further clot developing. The stent is then removed and the patient allowed to recover.  I have not had this procedure, as I had an angiogram which was done weeks after my heart attack. A dye is injected into the blood-supply, and as a result can be seen by X ray and can then show up exactly were the blood clot that caused a heart attack is. I had a test at Papworth Hospital to show up any further clot and it was decided that I didn't need invasive surgery, but, apparently now, a good 5 and a half years after my original heart attack (or to give it the correct medical name: myocardial infarction.) if you have a heart attack you are automatically given the stent procedure. My  heart condition is controlled by medication.

The Duke of Edinburgh has since been discharged from Papworth Hospital and has returned to Sandringham.