dead line

I can't believe it.

My Central Line doesn't work. It is blocked.

Every 30 mins,nurses have been trying to draw blood from the lines. Both appear clogged. Can't flush. Can't draw.

They want to stick a canula in me to administer hydrating fluids. I have refused.

I've been pretty fucking good at holding this shit together but I'm losing the will to do this now. I am so angry. I went through all that shit earlier in the week so the word canula wouldn't exist.

I want to go home. Oddly, for the first time in a long time, I want to cry.

we apologise for the delays on the central line ...

It's done. Finally. It was horrendous.

I'm taken to theatre and confronted by a whole team of 15 people, there are lights, machines that go Bing! and lots of people telling you you're doing really well, when you've done something as impressive as roll onto your side.

The surgeon was the same chap who performed my splenectomy. Obviously I didn't get to see him during that operation as I was in la-la land. Today, however, I was awake during the whole event.

Traumatic is the word. Needles are pushed into the chest to numb the area and other nameless acts are performed, but as you've got your head turned away, your eyes clenched shut and your hand tightly gripping a nurses, your imagination is your only real reference to what is going on.

Then the cutting, pushing, pulling and grinding things happen. You can only imagine what is going on as you feel odd never-experienced-before sensations inside your chest. Some of the surgeons actions are quite forceful, pushing hard onto tubes, breaking through 'stuff' inside you.

Its a long 25 minutes. An exercise in inner meditation and numbing out. Sometimes i failed and flinched and was immediately scolded by the surgeons. Must stay still. Must not flinch.

At some point, it was over. I then spent some time in the recovery room, obsessing about food as I hadn't eaten for 19 hours.

I'm back on the ward. Opiates help take the stinging away. I have snoozed a lot. I haven't even really looked at my new toy yet. I'm just trying to be comfortable.

Next up is a double-blood transfusion, as they found out when I came in, I was horribly anaemic. That will happen overnight or tomorrow. Then a few days off before I'm back here Sunday night, so the nurses can use my new exhaust pipe to pump me full of chemo for 5 days straight.

I was hoping to do the local AA meeting chair tonight but the gods were against me (for a change) but another day I hope.

I'm going to sign off now. I hope this basic update keeps the curious satisfied until I can write a bit more sharply again. I'll try to get a photo of my new central line as well.

You'll all be wearing them next season.