Cancer 118

Today is, or was meant to be, a treatment day, but my PICC line is causing too many problems. There is now the threat of a clot so I need to go for a scan. This may mess up all our holiday plans, as we have booked for the gaps between treatments, and now those gaps may become the treatments and the treatments may become the gaps. I tried bravado to get the treatment but they don’t believe me. My right arm has a 10cm larger circumference than my left arm. I explained that this has always been the case, but again they don’t believe me.

I am getting a little sick of it all (again). My skin itches, not just around the sites of the PICC line entries on both arms, but across my skin generally, my stomach and legs. I take daily drugs, I stick cream on the sore bits of skin, I change my stoma, I sit up at night because I can’t sleep, I come into the hospital far too often for far too long with far too many hours just sitting around waiting. I am very tired. I didn’t really want to come in today. It is getting a bit tedious.

My PICC line has been dressed. It was very messy. It seems I might be allergic to the dressings – all of them. There is also some infection in my arm and with the possibility of a clot there will be no treatment. I may have a Hickman line for the future, which goes in through the upper chest/shoulder and through to the heart. This has to be fitted while being scanned to ensure the line goes to the right place. I don’t suppose they will knock me out while they do it.

I have had blood taken from the PICC line and from my opposite wrist. I am not sure why. My pain threshold seems to be reduced today. The PICC line entry point is sore, and so is my wrist!

I am now just hanging around waiting – for what, I am not sure; probably the PICC line removal – which really hurt last time – and quite possibly the scan if they can fit me in – whatever time that might be.

I know I am thought to be cheerful but today I am in a bad mood. People are irritating me. There was the person behind me in the restaurant on his phone, listening to some drivel. Another person in the waiting room was watching something on his phone. They think by turning it down it is acceptable. It isn’t. I find the quieter noises to be more irritating than the loud ones – except for the bloke in the waiting room who bellowed his every word. I wouldn’t have minded but he talked utter drivel. I know I should have sympathy because he was probably deaf but I don’t. He needed gagging. I need the sympathy today.

I have been in the hospital six hours so far. No end in sight.