Lytha's Blog

Oh crap.
Here's hoping for the best!

I don't know... am I going to die from this or not? Probably, if I die, then I'll do that during the radiation therapy, by starvation and dehydration.

It wouldn't be too bad anyway (meaning: I don't care much about life anyway), but I could do that on my own without more torment here.

And excuse me, but what they're doing here is torture.

I had a funny encounter in the shower/bathtub/toilet room today. That toilet is the closest to my room here, so I prefer to go there. Anyway, the door was unlocked, and when I opened it I caught a frontal nude view of some 50-65 year old guy in the shower. He was looking a bit stupidly into my direction, so I just muttered "oh sorry" and left.

The odd thing is that if you ask all the females here on the floor, almost all of them had such an encounter in that room already.

Question is:
- why doesn't he lock the door?
- does he fancy a bit of exhibitionism (scaring women who like to go to that room)?
- is it always the same dude?
- why does he shower so often?



Anyway, back to the brutal current mood situation:

That was some crash I had there right now. I realized how much of a wreck I already am, then I had another diarrhoa episode (I hate that liquid "food"), then I put my mobile phone into the wrong jeans pocket into which it normally doesn't really fit when the trousers fit, then I realized what had happened to my legs (I thought that the baby fat on the belly would go first, but nooooo), then I looked into the mirror and saw a 5 year older woman's face, then I didn't find my mobile phone anymore and thought it was stolen, then the stomach tube started to be a bit irritated... yeah

Bawling.


... yeah well.




Doc Pretty is a rogue of sorts, he lies and that quite obviously. I find it much more believable that people wondered that I was back on my feet on the 4th post-surgery day than his statement that it's normal that people are back on their feet after such a surgery even faster than that.

I know why he is doing that, it's obvious. Motivation for me to keep recovering from that next mortal assault on me that they have planned for in 12 hours from now.

However, it was not a good lie, because it was such an obvious one.

This makes him difficult to deal with if I am looking for actual information instead of encouraging lies... which I normally am.

A. Pics or GTFO!
If the guy does it all the time, you won't have a problem catching him!
^^

B. No desire to spend more time with Geordi/July?
Don't get me wrong - I fully support the idea of dying on your own terms, but despite all the pain and suffering we need to endure, there's just so much beauty and joy in this world that pushing on feels like the better option!
Even if it's just to drool over your cats a bit.

I second what Upier said. I really wish I would have something constructive to add except for things like "Hang in there!" and "aww kitties!"

The procedures, and your state, and everything that surrounds it, indeed sound terrible. I'm just glad you were able to visit your cats for a bit. And whatever comes after will be that much sweeter, knowing you've beaten all this.

So once again, hang in there. :) *petpat* Wishing you the best for your tomorrow!

Originally Posted by Nikhera

I second what Upier said.

See, Nik ALSO supports the idea of getting pictures of the guy showing off!
Now you like NEED to do it!


And since I forgot about it, I'm keeping my fingers crossed for today and hopefully we'll hear from you soon!

Yep, I agree with everything from pics of the hawt doctor to the deliciously fluffy inspirational stuff. ;)

And once again, likewise, fingers are crossed and virtual hugs initiated.

Hiiiiii.

Godness, a lot happened, I don't even know where to start.

How about the good news, first? There won't be another surgery this thursday. There were no further metastases, and the security margin is alright and swell now. I MIGHT get an appointment at the Policlinic later today (for the chemotherapy information) and have to rush offline then. That aside, I'll walk around some more today.

So, at the moment, my chances to get another cancer would be 50%; the radiation therapy plus chemotherapy will reduce it to 10%. That's splendid, and I take the side effects indeed. :)


Right, now let me start at the beginning. The 2nd surgery!

You get a sleeping pill while still in the room here so that you're hopefully gone already when arriving in the surgery area of this part of the clinic. Last Thursday, this sleeping pill sent me off into a calm, curious, but widely awake mood. I had a look into the surgery room, the anestheticians talked to me, and I was gone after 2.5 breathes from some tube - I am not even sure though if it was placed into my trachea or into my mouth.

Anyway, and then I was quite widely awake again in the intense care unit with a very sore left arm, a numb ear and shoulder and a bunch of new plasters all over me. This time, the intense care unit was a bit different. Same room as before, but I was in the opposite corner this time, near the window. My old spot was occupied by someone who had a surgery at the heart a while ago and had been unconcious for some days then. There were 8 people in there at first, so the nurses were under quite an amount of stress.

I had a male nurse at first and he didn't introduce himself. But no issues there, I was awake enough to learn his name before I left 24 hours later. He was kinda cute with a very exotic name. Efgheni. Blonde.

Later, I got the nurse who had her very first day there then, and then another one. What I found nice was that Jenny and Diana, who were responsible for the other half of the room, came over to my bed to say hello. I didn't get to see Fabiana again though.

From my side, nothing really exciting happened in the intense care unit. I forgot to breathe a few times in the start, but then the beeping thing got me right back to it. I had my massive and to be honest, disgusting extreme salivation reaction again, so I insisted on rather sitting than lying down, which meant that the beeping thing went off QUITE a bit and annoyed Janina (first day) completely after 7ish hours of her shift.

But the other patients were more fun, later on at least.

Oh, I also learned that the crazy dude who had given me my very first (and very traumatic) cleansing of the trachea ritual must've been one of the doctors. They all looked like him (short hair, butcher type of doctor, strong arms), even though I didn't see this particular dude again.

A doctor called Florian (first name, I don't know the last one) came and adjusted my central vein catheter. While he did that, telling me "that won't hurt a bit and will be over instantly", he joked: "well, you know the 3 typical lies of doctors now, don't you? (a) this won't hurt a bit, (b) this will be over immediately, (c) I've done this a thousand times." Yeah well, it was over quickly. ;)

What made this time in the intense care unit so interesting was the new girl who went onto a frenzy after 7 hours of beeping beeping and beeping from everywhere and everyone; and the fact that the heart surgery dude woke up at 1am.

I don't know how common knowledge this is, but after a heart surgery, patients often have a short psychotic phase.

Shall I say that I found this highly interesting and leave it at that? Anyway, it was nice to learn how a psychosis looks like (or rather sounds like), what they do with these patients (tie them to the bed after he kicked and hit the nurses several times), and knock them out for 2 hour intervals, while phoning all doctors and some more extra nurses to get help.

I also learned that they can tie you up for 24 hours without getting into legal issues, which is quite interesting.

They were quite angry with him in the end and made sure he was sent back to where he came from as quickly as possible.

So yeah, this was very nice and I was up and about on Friday instantly, scaring the dudes who drove me from the intense care unit back here to the super-dentists. I wonder a bit if there are more rivalties going on between the super-dentists and the other doctors. The throat-nose-ear dudes had seemed rather hostile, and the dudes in the intense care unit didn't really care that the super-dentists had just told them to hold me there for a day even though I was widely awake and in no life threatened state at all (except the few times when I forgot to breathe in the beginning.)

I don't know why I was so high on Friday, but I chatted amicably on that day and I was in a very good mood. I got told off a bit by the doctors and ordered to shut up for a day or two though, which I actually did then in the end. Well, mostly. ;)

Back here, I was put into my normal room instead of into the special room, and my roomie left for the rest of the weekend to get back home. So, I had a cosy special room here as well.


Saturday was a crash then though again. Physical condition was at a minimum, I wasn't supposed to speak, my jaw turned into a very hamster-like looking swelling. And my parents visited.

Well. I had noticed the swelling of tongue and throat in the afternoon and got put onto the "inject cortisone here" list. Then my parents did retarded things and told the nurses that they must be aware that I've got a colitis ulcerosa and that they must be careful with whatever **** they give me. As a result, I got put off the cortisone list at first. Sometimes, I'm really upset with my parents because they're so bloody stupid.

When they were gone, my throat did swell and swell, and the doctor said that I should just apply some cooling to it. ("to the tongue?", I wondered, and tried to do some cooling.) It didn't really help. After a while, I had a suffocation panic, which got worse by opening the little door at the front of my throat (I've a downright phobia with that thing now), so general panic and commotion. I did get the cortisone in the end and avoided the sedation.

The phobia with the tracheactomy is a strange one. It's not about suffocation, normally, but about having a hole where there shouldn't be one. I think that this is a rather understandable reaction, but I am in the hands of surgists here. Surgists can fix things by poking more holes into someone and they don't think that a mind or a phobic reaction is worth looking at.

Yeah well. I think I have had too many drowning and suffocation experiences lately. I will probably recover, but I am thinking of putting tracheactomies on the list of medical procedures that I don't want to have done to me when I am dieing at some point.

So, Saturday came and went, and on Sunday I started walking again, tied to the drainage bottles, the central vein catheter and the NaCl that kept flowing in there, and various other tubes. But I could go to the toilet again, which is important for my ego. A lot.

Also, the new doctor lifted the ban on speech and I talked again. He also removed one of the draining bottles. He did NOT tell me that the histological results came in at night though, but perhaps I just had been busy walking or sitting on the corridor, phoning or SMSing when he tried to catch me.

So, today I heard during the doctors' visit that the histology had arrived last night and that they wanted to plug some tubes out of me today. And I was sent to the radiologists. Very nice place they have there, and I will be part of a study they're doing on the long time side effects of radiation therapy. That means extra good treatment, I am rather sure, so I am all for it. If it helps that lady to get her next academical title, all the better.

And then I came back here and they pulled the plugs. A new assistant doctor had just started today (let me tell you: she still sucks at drawing blood though. VERY timid, she was and she needed a completely perfect good vein for that even though she used a butterfly) and got a long briefing on me by Doc Pretty while I was sitting there, which was rather interesting from my point of view as well.

I now have some tape and stuff in front of my hole in the throat and am supposed to hold my hand against it when coughing or talking for the next 2ish weeks. At the moment, I am having that extreme salivation phenomenon.



Soooo.... I guess the priest will come through the rooms in a few hours, and maybe I'll have to get to the oncologists. That aside, it looks as if they will kick me out of here at around the end of this week.



I don't know if I can get pretty pics of Doc Pretty or the nude guy in the shower; mostly because I don't bring my mobile phone with me everywhere. Also, I think that the dude whom I had seen there had actually left the clinic sometime last week. Awwwwwwwwww.

Oh. Voice? I sound like a croaking bullfrog at the moment and air is still escaping from the trachectomy hole.

I know that the "z" is really in need of some logopedia treatment now and various other sounds are off as well. I am trying to keep "eating" through my stomach tube, and I have got something against the diarrhoa so that it can actually stay inside, but I think I might be dying for a croissant in a while.

The tongue is somewhat smarting now so I give it another bit of a break.

So, looks like it will be over for now on next Monday. Awesome? I think so.

Got to know two broken jaws today, that was even more awesome. Especially the postman dude, he's even prettier than Doc Pretty. I mean, fabulously pretty. The other broken jaw was a bit dull, but that's the type that gets the broken jaws, I guess. The postman probably got it because he's half black or something, because he wasn't dull at all.

Doc Pretty made an appointment with the policlinic for me concerning the chemo therapy briefing, and he started to organize that some food and equipment will be delivered for me for the week after release.

Since I hate that liquid goo stuff, I don't know if I won't just live off soups or something during that first week though. Well, perhaps we can actually start to get me back to normal feeding on sunday, who knows.

I am not wobbly on my legs anymore, but the neck and arms are totally stiff. People stared at me today again, so maybe I look worse than yesterday now.

We also got another 3rd roomie last night, who is awesome by herself. 75 years old and just cool. I like her a lot, but now she's off to get a biopsy done on that thing that grows in her face.

2nd roomie and her will probably leave tomorrow though, so maybe I'll have the room for myself again for a day or two. Who knows and who cares. :)

I don't know about my mood at the moment, because I am just too sleep deprived by now. It's somewhere in the "alright" region, so I just sit and drink sage leaf tea. Slowly. Don't want to swallow it into the trachea, so each sip takes some concentration.

I went into a "I really can't stand the cancer grannies anymore" mood yesterday, and I am glad that both of them have left the premises today. Well, the 91 year old was cool indeed, but the 71 year old (my roomie) pissed me off in the end due to her controlling habits. As in: I walk out of the room and phone with my sister for an hour. I return, and I am greeted by a wheezy: "WHERE have you beeeeeeeeen?" - I wasn't aware that this is a psychiatry here with face control upon leaving and entering a room? Ah well. We got along as long as it was necessary, mostly because I was incapable of speaking, I guess.

My immediate plan was to hang around with the broken jawbones instead of the cancer grannies. The broken jawbones are uncomplicated, young and awesome. Cancer grannies pull me down into depression.


So, today, there's a new roomie. She is suffering from the "she has a boyfriend" syndrome. By that, I mean that he has beaten her up and kicked her and put a cigarette stump into her side. Broken glass was also involved and more ****. And she has a broken bone below the eye, which is the reason for why she's here at the "super dentists" - who aren't really dentists very much, but dudes who specialize in any surgical procedures concerning the face, mouth and the jawbones.

What I found interesting is that the doctors only sent in the females of their staff yet to interact with this woman. There was a male one in the group as well, but he didn't say a single word, while the females did the talking. That's by far more psychologically adequate than I would have expected from them.

Another far more psychologically advanced thing was that they gave me my speaking tube so that I can "do with it whatever I like".

Nerds, surgists and dentists (and very busy being pretty), but they've also a small amount of common human sense. :)



For myself: while phoning with sister yesterday, my tongue relaxed quite a bit. Pronounciation still sucks, but it became better. Much better.

Also, I've just eaten a bowl of soup. Took me about 4 times as long as a normal person would've needed, and I spilled it over my trousers and over the tray, but it was quite the step forward. With the little bits of mashed veggies still glued to the tongue now, the suture threads aren't as plainly annoying anymore as well; but I'll go and rinse my mouth and the tongue soon.

Also, I have left the building two hours ago and sat down on a bench in the grass, enjoying the sun.


So, steps forward. :)

Yay! That's good news :3

So no pics of Doc Pretty? Can we get pics of pretty Broken Jawbone instead? ^_~ hehe.

I find soup to be the perfect comfort food, really. Easy on the stomach, on an aching mouth, and on the aching soul. Something about soup feels good. So I'm glad you were able to slowly eat yours :)

In the meantime, enjoy more of that sunshine and feel better. :)

Well, the bowl of soup was extremely significant. It was the first thing I've eaten in 2 weeks. I've been feeding through the stomach tube in the mean time. So, a really huge step, really. :)

Broken Jawbone has left the premises today as well. I am sad about that. ;)

So, I apparently overdid my small steps forward so much that the Doc Nerd said during today's doctors' visit: "patient can leave now". I expected release on Monday, so this came as a bit of a shock. I still live alone (with 2 cats) below the rooftop of a house without an elevator.

Anyway, that called for some quick rescheduling and replanning because I really can't just carry all my bags with the new undies and stuff by myself.

Also, I still need to see the docs at the policlinic for the planning of the chemotherapy tomorrow, but after that I am out of here.

I will be able to get my cats back at 19:00, and then I'll probably spend most of the weekend sleeping.

Whoa, awesome! :D That's all your hard work and perseverance for ya! :) And with your kitties and peaceful familiar surroundings, the rest of the recovery will be even easier. Sooo happy to hear that! :D *huug*

When I was walking around today, I actually found the menu card of that little university shop/cafe appetizing. I'd have liked to tackle a bun with slices of gouda cheese indeed. That was a first one, since the last 3 weeks; but still a bit premature. I do not want to bite my tongue yet.

Also, I progressed from teaspoon-soup eating to normal-spoon soup eating today; my tongue's motoric nerve woke up some more during a long phonecall with my sister. I can't say that I'd have done a lot of physical exercise though and the stairs up to the 2nd floor of this building required a break on the sofa that's conveniently placed right there.

The physiotherapist told me to just sit down and take a break after each part of a stairs now, especially when I am tackling the staircase at home. Given that she had a lot of good advice, I'll follow that one for sure.

I will be going to bed in the next couple of minutes now, because I've had such a massive sleep deprivation during the last 18 days in here.

I am back home.

!

My goodness, when my pal said that he had cleaned up my flat a bit, he really meant it. He's just awesome.

Anyway, the clinic just upset me today in the end. You know that I had an appointment with the oncologist at 0900, rescheduled spontaneously to 1030. Simultaneously, Doc Pretty wanted to give me the final speech and stuff, and I had to coordinate the arrival time of my parents.

Of course, Simone didn't know about the change of schedule with the oncology and asked me to change the diapers erm the bandages at 1000, which would've cut it extremely close, because she asks people to the bandage room a bit beforehand, so that everyone has enough time to get ready for that short walk. The sani was on the way for the transport to the oncology at that time though, so I started to be QUITE annoyed.

Also, the bedgirl (the girl who makes the beds fresh and nice after someone has left) started to bother me at 1000.

And then I had to wait in the oncology until 1130 until I got to see a doc.

Yeah anyway, chemotherapy is indicated, because the metastasis had broken the hull of that lymph node already. So they'll combine these two therapies, radiation and chemotherapy. The latter will be done with something called "cisplatin"(?), and that's what my friend, the radiation therapist from another town, had told me.

Right after I was back, Doc Pretty came and got the file back and gave me the final speech. He also had a tip for an exercise to strengthen the jaw musculature some more. I personally am sure that they've had to pull the lower jaw from the skullbone for the various surgeries and that this is the reason why I can't open the mouth wider than 4 cm now. I'll do that exercise as I do the exercises shown by the physiotherapist.

So, and then I had half an hour to kill until the parents arrived and now we're here. I've sent them off to do some sightseeing (as there is in this shabby part of town) and I'll investigate a bowl of soup with sort of croutons and lots of cream as soon as it cooled down.


At 1700, we're going to a restaurant where they'll enjoy the excellent food while I'll go for some juice and soup or so, and then at 1900, the cats will be bagged. Since Julian is fond of biting, I must do this.

OMG KÄSEBROT!
And good to hear you're doing better also, but OMG KÄSEBROT!
:p