obspleen photography

I'm doing a lot better. Feeling better, eating better and getting some strength back. It's still going to be a little while before "i'm back", but I'm on the road. 

OK ... let's talk about this spleen the hospital removed then. I am still not in the mood for writing very much, so this blog will be perfect, as a picture paints a thousand words.

Linked at the bottom of this spleen are two images.

WARNING, WARNING ... FLAILING ARMS ... 

These images are graphic. They are of a very large, cancerous internal organ remove from the body. Do not click the links if you are squeamish or upset by such images.

Right, before we begin, some points ...

1. The hospital took a series of photos of my spleen on removal. I had to sign permission for the them to be used in medical references etc. According to the consultant who got me to sign, this is very rare nowadays, as most things have been tagged already. The snapshots below where taken on my Blackberry from the originals - photos of photos, as it were. I am allowed to request originals.

2. The weight of the spleen is, apparently, 8.4 KG. (1.3 stone!) This is ridiculous - the weight of carrying twins! - and I refused to believe it at first - but three people in the hospital have confirmed this. The matter it is made up from (dead cells, dead blood etc), is very dense. It also explains why I went from just over 12 stone (despite have no muscle) to under 11 stone.

3. OK, finally ... "A normal Spleen is about 12 cm long, 7 cm wide, and 250 cm3. It is shaped like a largish fist" ... so, clench your fist, take a look and then take a these two pictures.


image 1
image 2

splenectomy: will trade organs for time off chemo

Splenectomy. A splenectomy is a surgical procedure that partially or completely removes the spleen.


... and I'm getting me one.

I went to see my Consultant today. In her room was an unfamiliar face. I was introduced to Dr.Ahab, a surgeon. "This doesn't look too promising", I thought to myself.

To be fair, they didn't tell me anything I didn't know - as I had the CT scans myself from last Friday. A quick look at the image to your right, will show that my spleen (the largest lump on the right hand side, squashing my kidney, should tell you all you need to know). note: this image should be reversed, it's actually on the left-hand side.

So, the fat spleen is coming out ... but there is good news. The rest of the cancerous lymph nodes have responded well to chemo and shrunk. My Consultant seemed quite pleased with the overall progress. It is expected that once this operation is done and I'm fit enough to have the evil chemo again, that there will be around another 6 treatments and I will probably be clear. I've had 6 treatments so far, so I guess 'half way there' on the chemo front is almost reassuring.

The surgeon was a nice guy - he took me next door 'for a feel' and was quite impressed by the size of my spleen - to the point where he want's to show his medical students. I said that there were royalties and contractual issues we would need to agree upon first.

Before the operation, I need to have a "PET-CT" scan (not 100% sure, but it shows up the lymphoma more clearly or *something*). I will also need a herd of injections from my GP - meningitis etc., to ensure I've had all my 'boosters', as spleenless people are susceptible to infection/illness. 


I've been told, with a serious face, that this is a 'big operation'. They will cut all the way down the front of me and open me up like a tin of beans to remove the spleen. I was warned of some possible dangers - some thrombosis type issue and some sudden sepsis possibility, but you can read about that on the Wikipedia link if you like. There's risks to everything and I'm not going to start worrying about them now, as my options are somewhat limited anyhow. My hospital stay is expected to be about 5-7 days and once I'm kicked out, I imagine I'll get about 3-4 weeks of recovery time, before the chemo starts again.


I will have to take penicillin for the rest of my life, daily - a pill in the morning. I imagine I will have to ensure I get booster injections and things like that as well - but really, no big deal.


I'm actually in a quite a good mood about this all, as ALL CHEMO IS CANCELLED!. This is great news for me. I've got a three, maybe four, week spell where I can eat, rest, work and create music without the sickness getting in the way. I intend to get a small holiday down with a very mate in Worthing ... just praying for a bit of sunshine in the next fortnight or so to make that perfect. The thought of a few long-ish walks along the sea sounds like heaven right now.


Right - there's your news ... I anticipate not a huge amount of new updates coming our way for a while now ... but at least you won't have to hear me whinge my way through another chemo session.


I'm off to start explaining to my spleen that things just haven't worked out between us - that it's not you, it's me and that perhaps it's time that he moved on. I think he will be upset but he'll know it's for the best. 


I hate these long goodbyes.




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UPDATE: Lots and lots and lots of people have asked me today, "What's the date?" of the operation. Sorry I didn't make that clear. I don't know yet - I've just been told it's about 3-4 weeks. Rest assured when I know, you'll know very shortly after. S.S.

rough week, rough day

I can't actually be bothered to write this blog, but there is news, so I may as well tell it. For the point of a blog is to tell news. It's my commitment to you. Be grateful.

The last chemo session - 3b - was horrible, as per usual. Lots more of lots more of the same. Especially vomit. Lots of vomit.

The main difference came when I would normally be coming out the other side and returning to work - the 'chemo sickness' feeling left around Tuesday as per usual, but my body continued to be very weak. So much so that despite hauling my skinny ass to work on Wednesday for a tokenistic appearance, I couldn't get the same skinny ass back to work on Thursday. I just felt very weak, even going for a short walk would leave me breathless ...

Christ, this is pathetic.You get the idea. Moan. Moan. Moan.

The actual 'news' is this - I've just returned from a double-visit-day at the hospital. First up was to tidy up my PICC line and snip down the length as it's slowly been coming out ... then it was back in the afternoon for my second CT spleen scan. You may remember that I had a CT scan way back at the start in December and if you haven't seen it, the image is on this blog here

I'm going to write more about this situation later on - but without giving too much away, I've seen the CT scan results, I've actually already got the CD with the images on (I've got good contacts!) and although I await my Consultants opinion next Wednesday, it's fair to say that we are not looking at a miracle here.

In fact, the size difference is pretty negligible - to these untrained eyes anyhow ... it's still a monster and I know this, as it's in my bloody body - I feel like someone has tucked a balloon stuffed full of Paxo under my left hand ribs. I haven't slept on my left hand side since November. So, the images have only confirmed what I already knew - it's changed - but it's we are probably talking about a 3-5% change here. Worth the last 4 months of shite? You can answer that.

So, if you are of the betting persuasion, then I suggest placing a large amount of money on the word 'spenectomy' being used in upcoming blogs.

So that's why I am so grumpy tonight then? No, actually. I can live with that. Or without that, as it will probably be. The reason I'm so grumpy this Friday night is because of my ridiculous anticipatory nausea issue. Somehow my mental mind and body decided that the aniseed flavoured water than I had to drink before the CT scan (about a litre, over the course of an hour, so things show up on the scan) must have been chemo related - and so now I'm back on my chemo couch, on a Friday night, feeling bloody nauseous again for no reason. I wouldn't mind, but I've had this exact procedure and drink before with no side effects, so I know it's another phantom sickness. I was looking forward to a night off - feeling a bit better - making some music, relaxing and now I know that the only way out of this feeling is to go to bed ...

Some days I want to just say OH FOR FUCKS SAKE, GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK LORD.

Today is one of those days. So stop reading now if you are easily offende ...

.. ah.

facing the shit

OK, after my last trip to the Chemo Clinic (that resulted in nothing happening to me at all), my nausea went into overdrive, lasted all day and made me feel horrendous. You can imagine that I wasn't really looking forward to going back there today for a simple blood test and a clean up of the PICC line ... I'd convinced myself that stepping foot near that place was now enough to send me into a merry-go-round-at-sea-after-a-dodgy-curry type state.

I arrived, I walked through the doors - took the first hit of warm air that fills that place and gakked it down, face curling into a ball. Count to 3 ... 3,2,1 ... no nausea.

How odd. I had to wait the best part of an hour to been seen, then had about 30 mins of faffing - taking blood, cleaning the PICC line, you know, faffing ... but no nausea.

So I just don't get it ... clearly my brain knows the difference between 'about to be poisoned' and 'not about to be poisoned'.

The proof, I guess, will come tomorrow.

Tomorrow I will be poisoned.

--------------------------

I went to see my consultant after the above. She is in a different part of the hospital to the chemo unit.

We had a chat about a couple of things - the anticipatory nausea, the new Lorazepam, my impending codeine addition but the real reason I was there was so we could discuss my spleen theory - that being, that the spleen is not getting smaller and we are somewhat pissing into the wind trying to reduce it. I rephrased that last statement for her, because she's a bit posh, like.

I got half-naked, laid down on the couch and she had a feel of Mr.Spleenerooney whilst measuring him with a tape and was in agreement - it hasn't reduced in size.

A C.T. scan appointment is going to be made, so we can see for sure and my consultant is going to discuss my case with her peer group of Very Clever People, but she all but told me that her original hunch was - and still remains - that the spleen will have to be removed.

There's no point jumping the gun about that now - but that's how it's looking at the moment.

I am due for Chemo Session 3b tomorrow (they go 1a,1b,2a,2b,3a...) somewhat stupidly, I wrote in a previous blog some time ago that I was on 4a or something ... I miscalculated ... I've actually only had FIVE treatments so far. It seems like this has been going on for ages now, and I've only completed 5 treatments - Christ.

Well, number 6 (or 3b) is definitely on .. my white cell count is back up. So bang goes a nice 4 day weekend. No Easter break for me. Jesus hates me, as I suspected anyway. It's because I use his name in vain (see above paragraph).

Tonight I start back on the Lorazepam - half a pill at night, half in the morning - enough to whack me out for the impending poison-fest I must face. Lorazepam nice, chemo evil. It's a bit like smoking a nice relaxing spliff and being forced to watch a JLS concert.

I'm running out of words to describe how I feel about having treatment now. You try to remain as optimistic as you possibly can - hopeful that this time it might not be so bad.

But, let's face it, it's always shit. It's chemo. Chemo is shit and cancer is shit.

But sometimes in life, I guess you just gotta stand up, take a deep breath and deal with the shit.

And here endeth the blog.

fat spleen

First up, I hope noone took offense to my sick little Cancer Card post below. What can I say, boredom does funny things to an already sick man. It still makes me laugh, though. As long as I'm happy etc ...

I think my spleen has got a bit fatter over the last couple of days. Hard to say, but it feels more uncomfortable, a bit like I've eaten too much. Yawning is harder than before (yawning squeezes the diphragm and there's no room for all my insides when compressed, so it 'hurts').

I feel lazy and like I could go back to bed at any moment. But I'm here, at work, spending too much time distracted by the internet and music forums, when I could, at the very least, be carrying on with my C# development study.

I've got it into my head that when this first complete course of chemo is finished (not sure when, but let's say May sometime), that the scan results will reveal that my spleen hasn't shrunk much and it will be taken out anyhow. It was so touch and go last time, that I think the odds were alway stacked against me. As you will see, if you need reminding, on my Cancer Card and click that disturbing tree, my spleen is/was damn big to start with. Well, at the very least, total spleen removal will be a whole new chapter in the blog. I'll see if I can hook up a live organ removal webcam.

I am due for chemo tomorrow - that's doesn't help my mood, I guess. Another week of feeling rubbish whilst chained the chemo couch. The novelty has worn as thinner than the thickness of a butterfly's wing.

Positives? Well, I had a good weekend, a lot of my new music toys arrived and I set up my first professional studio mic, complete with reflection filter and pop shields, to record my terrible voice. Plus I got some amazing new (virtual) synthesisers for my music workstation (I won't bore you with it, but think 'lots of nice new sounds'). I'm still awaiting my actual, physical, real, synth (Access Virus Ti2 Keyboard, go google), which is hideously delayed and causing mild resentment towards a certain music store and a German keyboard manufacturer.

Another big positive, I have my first music lesson on Sunday. By an amazing piece of 'luck' or co-incidence, I have found a guy who lives in walking distance of my abode, who teaches music tech at Hertfordshire Uni, is an excellent pianist/keyboard player but also knows and understands all the techy stuff (which I want to bore you with, but I shall spare you). So my homework ranges from 'scales and chords' (as you would expect), to critiquing a Nick Drake song (!), to writing a song with my vocals (argh!) so we can look at mixing options. I'm optimistic that my work with this guy will really help me to be not only be a better keyboard player (shouldn't be too hard), but increase my songwriting ability and production techniques. He was quite a find, it's not that easy to find these people like this kicking around ... especially one on your doorstep.

So, reasons to be cheerful and life is, cancer aside, painfree, stressfree and full of interesting people. I am blessed. But it's bloody hard to hang onto that when the smell of chemo ward fills your lungs.

Speak soon.

S.S.x

Results due 23/12/09

I've just received a phone call to say that my Consultant is expecting the results of my biopsy on Tuesday and they will faxed over to her as soon as they are available. I therefore have an appointment on Wednesday Dec 23rd at 10:30am (this might be delayed by a day if the results aren't ready in time).

Overall, I'm OK ... get tired a bit quickly now - don't have the energy to do too much without needing to retreat to the sofa/bed. Maybe there's nothing the matter with me but I've just falling into some sort of 'student lethargy' mode, as I'm sure this is what I used to do when I was 19.

Was up late last night, as The Ever Growing Huge Pulsating Spleen at the Centre of the Universe decided to push the kidneys aside, like a fat man sitting on a bus, in a bid to claim more room for itself. This left me with a pain in my side, a vaguely familiar feeling from the long-gone days of 5 day round-the-clock drinking sessions. But worse.

In other news, the codeine I'm using to stop the above, is now causing obscene constipation and two nights ago, I gave birth to a large house brick. Sideways.

I never said this blog was going to pretty.

Be grateful I didn't take a photo.

A healthy spleen

Trying to find a healthy spleen image to compare with my enlarged one in the previous post.

Found this ...

... which isn't that reassuring really. I assume this slice is taken from a completely different section, but it does kinda explain why my Consultant was more than a tad concerned.

Eeeek ...

vented: my spleen

Ta-da!

As promised, here's a snap-shot of the offending Spleeneroony. This picture is taken from my CT scan 'movie' disk (one for the grandkids, eh) and has been recently been smuggled out - '24' style - by my secret agent working from within the hospital.

Now you're probably need a little orientation to understand this mass of grey, so bear with me.

1. You are looking at cross section of me, a slice
2. We have travelled from my head, down my body, towards my feet.
2. My 'bum' is on the floor, my tummy is sticking up
3. The brite white round-ish thing is my spine

With me? Right - we have just travelled down through my body towards my feet and stopped here - where you will see the large lumpy lumperson on the right hand side. The great glob of stuff is my spleen.

1. Note how it is pushing my kidney below. Look at the other kidney on the left for where is should be
2. Up and the the left of this squashed kidney is where my intestines are - they have been pushed and squashed to the left
3. The darker 'shadows' in the spleen, I have been told, is the badness growing within. Badness being cancer.
4. Note how it's pushing my stomach out at the top - I can feel him and give him a little pat now and again. For a small fee, I'll let you feel him too. But no patting.

All of this explains quite nicely why I have been walking around like a hunchback recently, clutching my side and grumbling (ok, I always grumble, but...)

I'm not 100% sure how big the spleen should be, but I'm fairly certain this is no ordinary garden variety spleen. This is a prize winning, jumbo-spleen that shall proudly sport a '1st' ribbon come the next annual Kings Langley Internal Organ Growing Competition.

I am so proud.