An unwanted experience...

This may take some time so bear with me.

Following Cycle 7 my health again started to deteriorate. Nausea increased but I had further gland failures. This time it was my saliva glands which caused some problems with being able to consume food and drink. When I say problems, I could not swallow anything other than liquids and even that was difficult.

Neverthless, Cycle 8 remained my focus. Get it over and done with and then no more treatment for at least a couple of months.

I knew my food intake had gone down, and I was probably not getting enough fluids. I also started sleeping longer and longer hours and was very pale. But I felt I should battle on.

I felt awful, but to be fair I have felt awful for around 20 of the 24 weeks of treatment and it wasn't like I felt well one day and then awful the next. The rate of descent was step by step.

Without doubt, I have been one of the unlucky ones in terms of reactions to treatment. My body, previously drug free, has reacted negatively again and again to the chemo and immuno treatment causing several gland problems and a depletion of essential elements in my body.

These elements have mostly been topped up with pills and my previously mentioned blood transfusion.

However, 12 days ago my friend Rachael collected me to take me to an arranged appointment - a pre-operation assessment - at Southmead Hospital where I am due to undergo surgery. I was weak getting into her car to start with but by the time we reached my appointment I felt dreadful. Fortunately, Rachael took control and sort assistance as soon as we arrived at my appointment and the pre-opp nurses took over and arranged for me to be transferred to A&E.

I was immediately assessed and transferred to an isolation room in Resus. To be fair I have only a vague recollection of all the treatment I received. I was struggling with my breathing, my blood pressure had dropped, nausea increased and on examination I had a sore belly.

I was told my white blood cells were lower than allowed, and a CT scan showed I had an infection in my colon and bowel. I also had raging diarrhoea, anaemia and a high temperature which to me felt like I was encased in an ice box.

Forever hopeful, I assumed I was in for a quick fix and I would be going home that night so when BFF Annie turned up with an overnight bag I initially refused to put my pyjamas on!

I stayed in Resus for 24 hours attached to beeping machines and being prodded and observed all night long as they hung bags and bags of liquid medicine.

I know at some time that day the Doctors told me about my white blood cells (neutrophils) but I thought they called them necrophiles which caused some disturbance in my psyche!!

The vagueness continued. I was transferred to Acute Medical and remained in isolation. All the treatment staff were masked, gowned and gloved. But nevertheless I did ask every day if I was going home shortly.

Once the fever was controlled, on day 4 I was transferred again to another ward, but still into an isolation room. Still unwell, I was rarely without a bag of some type of fluid being pumped into my veins. I had 8 hour bags of saline and 4 bags of IV antibiotics each day, liquid paracetomol and anti-sickness drugs along with numerous pills. I was still was not able to eat anything of substance. I still had raging diarrhoea - level 7 on the hospitals poop-meter!

Southmead is not my usual treatment hospital and they do not have a specialist ward for cancer patients. They do have specialist nurses, and one of them got involved with my case and he and my Doctor liaised closely with my Oncology team at BHOC. The IV anti-biotics were doing some good but the infection in my belly was not abating. Morphine helped but it was decided to put me back on steroids on the assumption that it was the immunotherapy that had caused this sudden collapse of my white blood cells and subsequent infection.

So this time it was bags of steroids hanging in between the saline. It worked. My progression from day 4 to 5 was impressive and although still unwell it was the first day I felt half alert. And the really good news was that my saliva glands started to work again so I could swallow some foods (mostly soft or liquid) but the joy was returning.

I had the best shower I have ever had in my life - albeit seated and with the assistance of a healthcare professional. Previous body shyness prior to all this treatment has disappeared.

Do not be surprised if, after all this treatment has finished, to see me riding naked through the streets of Bristol. My previous body shyness has gone.

Day 6 my blood pressure broke 90 and was rising. Very positive.

With some movements towards wellness, the next step was to focus on my bodily elements. I was low on Potassium (another IV bag) and Magnesium also supplied by IV accompanied with being wired up to a heart monitor!! Then they advised me that my iron levels were depleted. Not low. Actually depleted!

To be fair my usual iron will had suffered a little during the last week so I was not entirely surprised. I was given a 4 hour iron transfusion. The bag looked like a bucket of rust !! Psychologically it was a weird experience. It felt like they were filling me full of dirty water.

Then it was all over (ish!). I got the nod that I could go home after 8 days but only because I had moved up from level 7 to level 6 on the poop meter!

However, on sign out my Potassium levels had already fallen again so they gave me a disgusting liquid potion to drink at home. My iron levels are still a little low, so I can expect some more iron activity in about 4 weeks after another blood test and I am again on a bucket load of steroids for the next 2 months or so.

So it looks like Buddha Babe is returning. The steroids add weight but in a horrid, bulbous, uncomfortable, body stretching way. But to be fair, if they keep me stable I will take it like a fully grown adult and stop moaning!!

My gratitude to the NHS is unwavering but I also am so grateful to Rachael for staying so calm in the face of my panic on the day I was admitted. And as always to Annie and other friends who arrived with freshly laundered nightwear and cheery faces even though it is only after exiting hospital that I knew some of them had visited.

There is also a lesson to be learnt in my experience. Before hospital, I was getting progressively worst as the days went on, and a few friends mentioned their concern. But I live on my own and generally am in control of my own life and am not a fuss-maker.

I was simply not aware of how ill I was and frankly I know now I was unable to make that judgement call myself.

I have since discussed this with friends and have now given them permission to by-pass my stubbornness and, if necessary, contact my oncology team directly to get directions as to what they should do in the event of any concerns,

When I left hospital the nursing staff gave me a letter advising me of my diagnosis.

Neurtropenic sepsis, iron deficiency anaemia, colitis secondary to immunotherapy.

I am a lucky girl.

Next up -surgery.