Carol Transferred To Willan Hospice

I'm sorry, but I have to face up to it. I don't really want to discuss Carol's condition, but it has got worse than we thought. She was moved from Ward 19 at Milton Keynes Hospital to Willan Hospice on Wednesday afternoon. It all happened very rapidly and I have to say I'm incredibly grateful to the doctor who went to a meeting at Willan and managed to get the bed for Carol. I had walked to the hospital so I had to return with quite a lot of her belongings which we managed to pack up in several carrier bags. An ambulance team arrived on Ward 19 and at first Carol was to be transported out of the ward on a wheelchair, but she found it too painful to sit, so the ambulance team went off and eventually came back with a trolley for her to lay on. I had to walk back home with some of the bags of belongings and then drove straight over to Willan. Carol had arrived well before me and was already in bed in her room.

We now know that the cancer has spread. On Tuesday Carol learnt that it has spread to her lungs. She was to have further chemotherapy, but it looks unlikely that this will now happen. She was going to Willan so they could deal with the issue of pain and they had the expertise to deal with this.

Carol's mum and dad have been visiting from Bournemouth. They came up to Oxford via train and then caught the coach to Milton Keynes and I collected them from the station  on Thursday morning and we drove to Willan Hospice.

On Friday I had to ring Daniel and asked him if he could visit his mum and hopefully contact his brother, Sam, because I didn't have a telephone number to call. Also, I rang Chloe and she eventually texted me to say she would come up with her husband, Steve, on Monday morning.

Carol's mum and dad had booked a room at the Peartree Bridge Lodge, a hotel and restaurant which is very near home as well as the hospital. It would have been incredibly convenient to stay there and be so close to Carol in hospital, but by Wednesday afternoon Carol was on her way to Willen so it would mean, when they eventually arrived on Thursday, I would have to drive them over to the hospice when they arrived. It would have been easy to just walk over from Peartree Lodge, no more than a five-minute walk to the hospital. As it is, it's only a mere ten-minute drive from our home to pick them up from the hotel.

On Saturday evening I had a lovely meal with Carol's mum and dad at the carvery within the Peartree Lodge. Especially nice because it meant I didn't have to cook a meal at home when I got back from seeing Carol at Willen.

That's all I want to add at the moment. I will keep things updated when I feel I want to write more.

Carol Having Surgery . . . Or Possibly Not

Carol has been visited by a whole range of different people during Thursday whilst I was with her. She has continued to be in a great deal of pain and for me it's really difficult to see her struggle with this horrible thing and not be able to do anything to help. During the afternoon she was visited by the palliative care team who are involved in managing the pain. Then some of the doctors came and did an examination and decided that some of the pain is due to an abscess that would need surgery to drain to relieve the pain it is causing. In very quick succession, barely 20 minutes or so, a surgeon came to see her to discuss this and it was decided that a further scan would be needed to be able to see how things are shaping which should help the surgeon. We were expecting the scan to be during the time I was with her, but, having been on the ward since 10 o'clock I had to leave at around 2.15. Unfortunately I need to get some rest. Carol was concerned that the scan (not exactly sure whether it's a C.T. scan or M.R.I scan.) would mean she would be in a lot of pain because of laying on the bed they use for this procedure, although the doctor in charge of her pain said that they would give her extra medication to help relieve this, but it would be no use if they didn't know more or less exactly when the scan would be because it takes at least 20-30 minutes before the medication takes effect. 

The surgeon came back with the paperwork for consent to the surgery and this was duly signed by Carol and he discussed further the procedure that would be involved. As I write this (7.35a.m) we're not entirely sure what time the operation will be, but apparently after 8a.m. So I'm not sure exactly what time she's likely to be back from the  operating theatre and, no doubt, awake after the anaesthetic. As a result I will have to contact the ward to discover all this or to get them to telephone me when she's back on the ward.

Anyway, I still managed to take Alfie out for his usual walk (well, it's a walk for me, but more like a trot for him, whilst all of the time he's yapping excitedly.) Yesterday we didn't go, because I just didn't feel 100%. Just one of those days, unfortunately. Nothing bad, just that some mornings my medication can make me feel queasy. A surprisingly mild morning. Eaglestone Park looking more than ever autumnal. The days are beginning to draw in and it's getting dark earlier and the mornings darker, longer. If Alfie had his way he'd be going out in the dark, but it wouldn't be such a good idea, so going out at around 7.15 is a good deal more sense.

Later. 8.50a.m. Carol has now texted me and apparently she's not having the operation. No doubt they've looked at the scans and decided against operating to drain the abscess. Not sure at the moment exactly what's going on and probably won't know until I go into the ward a bit later this morning. All a bit up in the air, as you might expect.

Later still. It's now almost 3 o'clock and I'm back home from being with Carol for most of the day. She appeared to be much brighter than over the past couple of days. We can't quite understand what happened regarding the surgery which had been planned over the last 24 hours. Infact, Carol hadn't eaten since early yesterday because of the expected surgery. She had a  C.T. scan late yesterday evening and I presume the surgeons looked at the results and decided that surgery was unnecessary and wouldn't benefit Carol. They say an abscess didn't show up on the scan. So, I don't know what to make of this. What surprises me is that none of the nursing staff on Ward 19 were aware that the operation had been postponed. It seems there is a communication problem between the nurses and the doctors. Which is crazy, considering it is them who have to deliver the care to their patients on the ward. The pain doctor had prescribed stronger pain relief medication but this will take several days to arrive from the hospital pharmacy, and it is likely that Carol won't get this until probably Monday at the earliest. Which makes it seem rather pointless if they can't get it to her quicker. Just another problem that needs to be ironed out and I can now see why the N.H.S. has so many problems if these sorts of situations arise.

So, amidst all this, no nearer to having Carol discharged from hospital at the moment, unfortunately, but there's no point her coming home until they've got on top of the pain and to be hones, being in hospital is the best place at the moment.

Later still. About 8.30 this evening Carol rang. She said that Dr Saka, the Oncology consultant, arrived on the ward. It seemed quite late, but he is an incredibly busy man and no doubt found it difficult to fit in all his patients, but his office is just below Ward 19, within the Macmillan unit. He will be coming back between 11 and around 3 on Tuesday so I want to make sure I'm there when he comes.

Ward 19 seems very noisy. Not just the patients, but the staff seem to make an incredible amount of noise. There is a door immediately outside Carol's room and each time someone goes through it, it makes a slamming sound. Also, a female domestic was cleaning one of the bathrooms or toilets close by and dropping the toilet seat repeatedly, getting really annoying. Then an elderly patient was walking up and down the ward using a Zimmer frame to walk with and it was making a dragging sound as if the wheels hadn't been oiled in years or the brakes were still on (not that the wheels on a Zimmer frame have brakes, but it seemed like they were locked firmly) Anyway, you would think that a ward would be a quiet and peaceful place where you could rest and recuperate, well, that's what I imagine it would be like. If I remember correctly when I had my first heart attack in 2006 and I was on the C.C.U. (Coronary Care Unit) at Bedford Hospital, I'm almost certain they had at least an hour's quiet. Not that it's ever quiet on any hospital ward, what with staff coming and going and new patients being moved in and out.

Even later. Carol rang me on my mobile at home. She told me that Doctor Saka came to see her on the ward. at around 7 o'clock. She asked him about the new chemotherapy treatment which can't proceed until her current situation is under control, the infection, which is being treated with antibiotics as well as the intense pain. He told her the cancer can be treated successfully and that he would be back to see us both on Tuesday between 11a.m and 2p.m., so I will make sure that I am on the ward when he arrives.

Not The Best News

Alfie was quite insistent that he was going to be taken out for an early-morning walk. I got up as usual and he was sitting on the sofa watching me like a hawk, following me around the house, staring  at me and it was quite clear what his game was. He wouldn't let me off the hook, so I had no real choice but to put on my jacket and shoes and then connect his lead to his harness and then go out the front door. I haven't been on a long walk since my heart attack, so I walked relatively slowly as I did have a vague feeling of an angina attack, but nothing more. I even took my mobile with me, just in case. Eaglestone Park is beginning to show real signs of autumn. I also had my G.T.N. spray in my jacket pocket.

I had to do some shopping early, so I went to Sainsbury's, going at around 8.40 and avoiding traffic as well as dawdling shoppers which you tend to get on a Saturday morning. A few items as I'm having to make myself a meal of some sort with Carol in hospital at the moment. A few odds-and-ends to stock up on, those things that having a bit of running out when you least expect it.

Once I'd returned home I put the food items away, some in the fridge, as I didn't fancy the idea of them sitting in the back of the car when I parked at the hospital. It was around 10 o'clock when I eventually drove into the hospital campus and drove around to the ground-level carpark near Cardiology. I think we're becoming extremely familiar with the layout of the hospital of the last year or so and I've discovered where exactly Ward 2 is in relation to, say, the Macmillan unit as well as Oncology and Cardiology (which is handily just opposite Oncology.) You can see the windows of the ward as you walk through the courtyard on your way through and Ward 22, where Carol was a couple of weeks ago, can be seen through the window of Ward 2.

Carol had a visit from Doctor Saka, the cancer consultant with whom she was supposed to have had an appointment yesterday morning (Friday.) Unfortunately I wasn't with her when he came to the ward. We've now learned that the tumour has increased in size unfortunately, as shown on the recent scans. The plan is for her to have 6 months of more chemotherapy, but a more intense treatment which will leave her with no hair as well as possibly making her feel quite sick. Not something we are looking forward to. We were expecting her to have radiotherapy at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford, but none of this can be started until the pain she is experiencing is under control. But we know we can get through this, however difficult it turns out to be. Me having my recent heart attack hasn't exactly helped matters. I am feeling fine, apart from the occasionally twinge. I have become very aware of my heart-rate when I'm lying down and I can feel quite nauseous at times, which is as a result of the medication, also, feeling a little bit light-headed, but all in all I'm not feeling too bad, perhaps getting tired easily, but if I rest it makes things easier. Just something I have to live with, and, anyway, I went through similar things after my first heart attack in 2006.

Ward 2 is a short-stay ward. During the afternoon Carol was asked if she would like to move to a side-room? Her answer was that she would love to get away from the noise of the ward. There are a couple of elderly ladies who make a lot of noise in the night, and one was moved to a side-room because of this. So we bundled up all her belongings and a porter trended her off up the corridor. It's  Ward 20, which is opposite the first ward she was on last year, Ward 20, and just above the Macmillan unit and extremely handy for me coming in to park near the Cardiology department so that should make things easier.