Tuesday, 23 October 2012

A doctor calls

Tuesday evening and TN is just putting the children to bed whilst I idle around downstairs (gathering strength to put them to bed - I might be able to lift DS but that doesn't make him any easier to persuade to get into bed, particularly now we have taken the side off his cot so he is in a Big Boy Bed from which, unfortunately, he can escape) when the phone rings. It's the oncologist. She will be on holiday on Thursday so she wants to talk about the side effects I have been experiencing. I know she's  busy, especially if she's ringing round all her patients, so I keep it to the key concerns that I was going to raise with her anyway.

Chief amongst these is the effect the iv had on my left hand. Two and a half weeks later and my hand is still feeling bruised. She surprises me by not suggesting what I thought she would suggest - turning the drip down - but rather that we put in a deep vein line, either a PICC or a portacath. Apparently she has been receiving more reports of this problem with oxaliplatin, and putting it into a bigger vein seems to help. The procedure is done under sedation; sadly it won't be for this time round but it will be for round three. Somehow talking to her makes me feel more positive again. She's on my side and understands. Not that lots of people aren't on my side - far from it - but she can fix stuff.

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