Friday 22 September 2017

The Rollercoaster Ride of (VERY SEVERE) Man Flu 


The weekend seemed to be (Possibly, and don’t shout it) where I turned the corner? Saturday was spent at OBR watching Ma play for the Mighty Cents and lose to a decent Henley side. They should perhaps have won, but kept coughing up the pill at vital moments. Carol and I had a pleasant night by ourselves with a rather nice bottle of red and some sea bass. The best part of 10 hours sleep meant that I was feeling fully refreshed on Sunday.



I decided to see if I could get through the whole day wearing the Hands Free filter, as previously I’ve only managed about 3 hours maximum before the air blows out of the bottom, making it impossible to use. So, in it went at 9am and off I trotted up to OBR to watch some of the Colts match. I spent about three hours at the club, chatting to various friends who happened to be up there and feeling far more like my usual self. Once I got home I prep’d and cooked a full roast dinner, probably the first we’ve had since I came out of hospital. I managed to eat a pretty good portion, including roast potatoes which have previously been sticking in my throat. I eventually took out the filter at about 9.30pm. In all that time I hadn’t needed to change the filter of the base plate, I was a seriously happy chappy. That night I slept without a base plate in place and just used an adhesive flappy thing to protect the stoma during the night. I was going to leave it totally open to the elements, then thought what would happen if Penny happened to bring a mouse in during the night, open the lounge door, get upstairs, open our bedroom door, all the time keeping hold of the mouse, jump onto my chest and drop the mouse doing my stoma.

One of the only downsides of not wearing the Lary tube is that in the morning the stoma is, shall we say, a tad “Messy”. The tube would channel any overnight gunk, whereas the stoma doesn’t. Monday morning involved a good 20 minutes of prep’ing myself for my first day back at the office. I always wondered how I’d feel about cleaning the stoma myself, but it’s no real problem. I’ve a pair of hospital issue tweezers that I can use to pull out any stubborn bit of gunk out of the hole, and I use a (Clean) finger nail to scrape off any stuck down stuff near to the hole. Making sure that it’s clean is important to stop any chance of infections starting. Once I’ve manually cleansed the area I then use the special skin barrier wipes which prepare the skin for the base plate. The final act before sticking the plate on is to brush on a coating of silicon based glue to the area on my skin where the plate will be stuck, let it dry of four or five minutes and then whack the plate on, pressing from the inside to the outside to ensure there are no air pockets.



The morning continued the positive mood of the weekend. I booted up the work laptop and hey presto I was into all the system and emails without any delays! Just over 800 emails in 12 weeks, just over 800 emails were deleted with a flick of the mouse! (If they’re important they’ll write back). The only issue is that my work iPhone still won’t work. The IT Helpdesk suggested I do a factory reset and leave it for 24 hours, I wasn’t overly convinced, but followed their advice. And 24 hours later it still wasn’t working….

I worked through until lunchtime and then met a good friend from lunch prior to having a kip for the rest of the afternoon. Daft as it seems, but sitting at a desk and having to concentrate does tire me out. As with Sunday, I’d worn the hands free all day and had used my voice quite a bit too. But by around 7pm I was beginning to feel decidedly rough. I ate hardly anything for dinner and took myself off to bed at 9pm after having a large slug of morphine. My neck, shoulder and scars were all hurting and even my throat round where the tumour had been was painful too. (Which is quite surprising as that part of my throat is probably in a jar somewhere in Churchill Hospital).

Monday night was awful, the morphine knocked me out until about 1am and then I was awake on and off for the rest of the night. I could hardly move as my neck, shoulder and throat were so sore. At this point the mind starts working overtime. Is this a sign that “Its” back? When I eventually got up after Carol had left for work I was feeling a little bit more human, but my throat was still incredibly sore and I struggled to get my porridge down. Carol sent me a message when she got to work apologising for giving me a bad night last night? It appears she also had a very sore throat and was generally feeling like crap. So, panic over, “Its” not returning, I’ve got a common cold! Well, when I say common cold, I of course mean a severe case of man-flu. It’s Carol who’s got the common cold. It’s bloody typical too, Max has gone down to see Laura in Exeter for a couple of days, so our plans of swinging naked from the chandeliers has been scuppered by a nasty little bug. As I was still feeling pretty rough as Tuesday went on I again packed in work at around lunch time and relaxed on the sofa. The throat was throbbing away, but I wasn’t having to clear out the stoma any more than the past couple of days, so the positive vibe continues……

I was asked a week or so ago if I’d ever met anyone else who’s had a Lary, other than the guys I’ve met whilst at hospital, and the answer is no I haven’t. That got me thinking as to how many people are there in the UK who’ve gone through the process. It took a bit of digging around to find the answer. Wiki only quoted figures from the USA where around 3,000 people each year undergo the process. I eventually found what I was looking for hidden in the depths of an NHS Page. It turns out, that as of 2016 there were only circa 5,000 people living in the UK with a Lary. I don’t know why, but I had it my mind that the figure would be much higher than that.

Tuesday night / Wednesday morning were pretty dire in the Clark household with both Carol and I feeling distinctly under the weather. Bed by 8.30pm, trying to sleep by 9pm. We’re turning into an old married couple. One of the problems I’m having with this severe dose of man flu is the inability to swallow properly, and therefore eat properly. My throat has been as sore as it was in the dark days of Chemo and RT. However, I’m still not having any problems with the stoma, it’s clean and tidy in the morning when I get up, so, so long as this is just a severe case of man flu then I’ve got to be happy with the progress I’ve made.

As my work phone still wasn’t working properly on Wednesday morning (there’s a surprise!) I called up the IT Helpdesk, the first call I made was I’m afraid totally unsatisfactory, ok my voice wasn’t great on Wednesday, it was a bit “Gurglery” but it wasn’t that bad. The first person I got through to kept saying “I can’t understand you, please speak up……….” I hung up rather than spoke up! The second chap was fine, he asked me to repeat myself a couple of times but didn’t sound annoyed or bored with me, unlike the first operator. As I suspected, the original advice of doing a factory reset was incorrect. So as requested I emailed a specific team in out Tech Dept. and await their response. At the time of publishing I’m still not able to recover any of my contacts / emails / company apps on my phone and I’m now becoming annoyed. The rest of the morning was taken up with mandatory training, form filling and trying to get up to speed with my cases. I then turned off the laptop, sat on the sofa and promptly fell asleep for an hour or so. This “Working for a living” lark is grossly over rated!

By Thursday I was getting thoroughly pee’d off with this “REALLY SEVERE” man flu.

I tried the morphine trick again on Wednesday night and it knocked me for six as soon as I went to bed, and then “DING”, at midnight I woke up and struggled to get back to the land of nod. The morphine also had that wonderful effect of bunging me up, so it was back onto the Laxadoo drinks I was actually nodding off sitting at my desk on Thursday morning, so by 11am I packed in and let my body tell me what to do. In fairness, I’d been working since 6.30am, so not a bad day’s work. The rest of the day was a wipe out. I lay on the sofa feeling sorry for myself, having to get up every 15 minutes or so to clear out the stoma which was collecting gunk like it wanted me to buy shares in Kleenex. Dozing, clearing, dozing, clearing, dozing……. You get the picture. When I went up for an early bath I couldn’t lift my head up from the side of the bath without using my hands. That hadn’t happened since just after I was released from Churchill. We haven’t really had a proper meal since Monday night as neither of us feel like eating, let alone slaving over a hot stove. Tomato soup with grated cheese was all we managed on Thursday. I haven’t been brave enough to weigh myself this week as I’m sure I’ve dropped down below the magic 80kg mark once again. As I’m back at RBH for another clinic next week I’m going to have to try to pile the pounds back on over the weekend.

Another dose of “My mate, morphine” ensured I got to sleep quickly, but again, and I’ve no idea why, I woke around 1am and struggled to sleep deeply again. I eventually emerged from my bed around 8am, long after Carol had left for work, and I didn’t feel too bad. I’d again slept with the flap over the stoma and was pleased that it was pretty clean when I unpeeled. A quick clean and polish, on with the hands free and another day beckoned.  

Friday was a much better day, I felt vaguely like a human again and had fewer coughing fits than in previous days this week. The only continuing issue was the scar on the left hand side of my neck which is quite swollen and very sore. Carol thinks this could be due to the infection that caused the “REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, YES REALLY, SEVERVE” man flu. I’ll bring it up with the Consultant next week if it continues. 


It’s been a really strange week. It started off on such a high, plummeted downhill at a rate of knots, all down to a case of man flu (Albeit a really severe case in case you hadn’t got the point) ended back on an upward curve by the time Friday arrived.

I think what I’ve learnt this week is that if I’m going to be ill (non-cancer related) and it has any impact on my head, neck or chest, then I need to be resigned to the fact that it’s not going to be a pleasant experience and will have added knock on effects. The trick will be not to panic, listen to my body and hunker down on the sofa until whatever it is buggers off.
I realise this hasn’t been the most upbeat blog posting I’ve written recently, and perhaps some of the details haven’t been ideal tea time reading, but it’s a truthful reflection of the week. Probably the worst week I’ve had since the tunnel from Churchill was completed. So, a bit of amusement to finish with.

Regular readers will remember Amy from the Rams Sirens team who broke her leg a few weeks ago. Amy hasn’t been wasting her time whilst she’s been on strict non-weight baring instructions from the hospital. She’s been reading up on various coaching methods and signing up to some FB pages to get further ideas. One of the pages Amy signed up to was England Rugby, nothing wrong with that you might think? Until you know that Amy is rather Welsh, cut her and she’d bleed leeks! Her “Liking” of England rugby drew some rather interesting comment on her FB page, so as I was at a loose end I thought I’d show her how good she’d look wearing the red rose and white shirt.



I also know that Amy is a good sport who takes the ribbing in the manner in which it’s delivered. Also, she’s wheelchair bound at the moment, so can’t catch me 😊

I’ve no real idea as to what the weekend will bring, it will depend heavily on the weather and how I’m feeling. The Rams 1st XV are making the relatively short hop to Chinnor on Saturday, a fixture I’d normally drive over to in just under an hour. I like Chinnor rugby club. Last year we were over there for a returning students match. The barman noticed I was struggling somewhat with my voice and instead of the usual “Heavy night was it?” quip, he actually asked if I’d had it seen by a doctor. Some rugby clubs in the locality can be known for serving “Home” supporters first at the bar, I’ve never had that problem over at Chinnor. We may not be best of friends on the pitch, but after 80 minutes that should all be forgotten over a pint.

As always, thanks for reading.

To be continued………


#Shoulder2Shoulder 

PS - Did I mention I'd had man flu? 

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