Wednesday 31 October 2012

Breathalysed

More tests this week.

First, I was breathalysed.


This was a Lung Function test to try and get to the bottom of my constant shortness of breath. I spent half an hour blowing into a plastic tube in various rhythms, which established that my lung capacity is about half of what it was when I was last tested in Jan 2011 just before the transplant. Quite what we can do about this, if anything, must wait until the docs have fully analysed the results.

Then I had a 24-hour ECG test which entailed carrying in my pocket a small machine attached to my chest with several wires, measuring my heart rate and recording any fluctuations to compare against a diary I kept of any palpitations (none) and shortness of breath (plenty). We await official notification of the results, together with advice on any action to be taken, but the absence of a panicky phone call within a couple of days of the test is at least good news initially because it means they haven't discovered anything critical.
Meanwhile the mention of heart fluctuations reminds me of the Chinaman travelling in Europe who changed money on different days and was shocked at the difference in the exchange rates he received. When he complained, the bank clerk shrugged his shoulders and said simply "Fluctuations".
To which the Chinaman retorted: "And Fluct-u-Eurlopeans too!"


In other respects I still seem to be improving very slowly.
My back is less stiff and painful, thanks in part at least to the weekly ministrations of Marco the Masseur and to the gentle exercises he prescribes.
My eyes are still often irritable and my vision blurred, but the threat of blindness seems to have receded and the antibiotic eyedrops are being gradually reduced without any adverse effects. Meanwhile I'm still pouring in plenty of lubricating drops and swabbing regularly with sodium bicarbonate solution to combat the dryness and irritability.
My mouth remains obstinately intolerant of any food or drink other than lots of water and small quantities of icecream which means I still have to rely on nocturnal feeding via the naso-gastric tube.
And my memory continues to be patchy and unreliable, particularly short-term.
But overall I can see small improvements, both physically and mentally, and these hints of recovery are willingly embraced and encouraged.
Slow business, though....

Finally, an answer to the question I eventually remembered to ask the doctor at clinic last week, namely is my darker hair due to the influence of my 25-year-old bone marrow donor??! Alas, nothing so romantic, it seems, but merely another symptom of GvHD. Ah well....

2 comments:

  1. A Golden Oldie...I remember hearing the fluctuation joke in a slightly different form after Idi Amin expelled the Asians from Uganda which dates me. All this testing reminds me my car is due its MOT this month...nothing as comprehensive as yours, I hope ;)

    Glad you're noticing some improvement albeit frustratingly slow.

    Love from the mainland

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  2. It's been my life's ambition to be breathalysed! P'raps when Lucy's a PC Plod she can Jim'll Fix It for me. Is that in bad taste?
    Anyway, my favorite joke:
    Q. What do you call a fly with no wings?
    A. A walk!

    Equally,
    Q. What do you call our lovely Patrick with no puff?
    A. Our lovely Patrick! (But in a very sexy breathless voice)

    Keep lubricating, massaged and swabbed, dear friend, and we look forward to seeing your completely melanic thatch (eeeuw!) v soon. Although I reckon you're resorting to the Excretion 2000 (for 'Men') bottle, don't give ME this Giraffe v Ghost nonsense!
    Loads of love to you and J,
    S XXXXXXXX

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