Friday, 14th April 2006

Meanwhile, back in suburbia....

Young children, and by this I mean the under fives, have an efficient if unorthodox way of coping with a runny nose. This will be a familiar sight to some parents. As liquid trickles out of their little nostrils, an equally little but perfectly formed tongue pops out and clears it away from the upper lip much in the way a car screen wiper might clear rain from a car window. This is what gave me my first inkling that Benjamin had a cold. Despite several demonstrations from me about how to take out tissues from his pockets, how to blow and wipe his nose, he doggedly stuck to his tried and tested lick-it-off-my-face method. Well, he's four years old, so why not? The runny nose was followed by a slightly croaky voice and a little cough but no temperature and,within two days his cough and cold went as quickly as it came. Little children have little problems. During this time I received my usual quota of hugs and slobbery kisses from him. Having a lovely child like this made me forget about how my immune system would react. It may have been pure coincidence, however, it was not long before I too had a runny nose: but I refrained from using the tongue method so beloved by Benjamin. I was very grown-up about it all and availed myself of several tissues. If only the cold had been restricted to that I would have been perfectly happy but matters took a turn for the worse. I lost my voice, developed a stabbing cough, a series of headaches that stubbornly refused to disappear without paracetamol and sprouted a cold sore on my lip: all I needed just ahead of cycle 4 of chemotherapy.

Life goes on and with Bryan's school breaking up for Easter a week after Joshua's and Benjamin's school I focused on the entertainment programme for the boys. For the first few days this entailed ferrying them between each set of grand-parents as I was not up to much. In fact, I had agreed to meet up with the mother of one of Benjamin's friends Helen and her son Edward. However I had to cancel at the last minute as I started to shiver and feel drowsy – an unusual combination. Thankfully, my parents and Bryan's came to the rescue and took care of the children when the heavy cold restricted me to staying in bed for a few hours at a time. That said, I began to feel better towards the end of the week and managed to pack a picnic for myself and the children to take to Aldenham County park. www.hertsdirect.org/yrccouncil/hcc/env/enjoy/places/aldenhamcp/ The park is managed by Hertfordshire county council and is home to a collection of rare breeds of farm animals. There are also thoughtfully planned play areas for the under fives and older children. It was a little chilly for a picnic I suppose, however, the boys didn't bat an eyelid and tucked into their sandwiches. We had some bread left over at the end and fed this to ducks who had been paddling in a hopeful sort of way at the nearby water's edge.

The next day Bryan was at home and I felt confident enough to book a bowling alley for the boys and we took Joshua's friend Lawrence with us (Lisa's youngest son). We had great fun and Benjamin perfected a technique of pushing his ball down a bowling ramp (supplied for small children who might not otherwise be able to play due to heavy nature of the bowling balls) while maintaining his grip on a chocolate chip muffin. By the evening, the persistent cough I thought I had managed to shrug off returned with more vigour together with the now familiar headache. I took more paracetamol and went to the pharmacist to get whatever he/she was prepared to give me. I came away with Benylin and Strepsils as my throat had become sore and I had started to lose my voice. By Saturday evening my usually mild asthma kicked in and I developed a wheezy chest. By Sunday 9th April I was taking so many cold remedies you could have heard me rattle as I walked. They all seemed to help in some way and I list them here;

Vapour rub – very good for blocked noses/wheezy chests at night-time.
Ventolin – Kept my airways clear.
Benylin – a cough remedy. It works in mysterious ways.
Zovirax – for cold sores.
Strepsils – for sore throats.

It was not usual for me to need such a colourful assortment of medicines to manage a cold but then colds have rarely taken hold of me in the way this one did. Nevertheless, I remained undeterred and went along for my pre-chemo blood test on Monday 10th April as planned. After all, despite the coughing and spluttering, I had no temperature and felt well enough to drive. When I went in for the chemo the following day the oncology nurse narrowed her eyes as she looked at me and said, “You do not look quite right to me.” She had a point. I was coughing, had a cold sore the size of a small raspberry hanging off my lower lip, my voice had been reduced to a strange hissing sound: to be fair, I was not looking my best. All I needed was to shove a cushion up my back and to drag my left leg behind me as I walked to complete an impression of Quasimodo. However before I got carried away with thoughts of bell-ringing, the nurse brought me back to reality with my blood-test results. She read them out like football scores:

Haemoglobin 10.2, White blood cells 5.2
Platelets 298, Neutrophils 3.1

At first glance the results looked as I might be fit enough to withstand the chemo. However, the nurse said the raised count for white blood cells and neutrophils confirmed that I was fighting an infection and that the chemo would weaken me further. She called the oncologist who concurred with her view and I was advised it would be wiser for me to postpone the treatment by a week to Tuesday 18th April. I was partly relieved and partly disappointed as I wanted to plough my way through this course of treatment according to the schedule. But I wasn't going to argue. I would have a week to recover, to gain my strength, and as I walked back to the car I consoled myself with the thought that I might even be able to enjoy a bit of Easter chocolate.