Blood Gusher for one and PICC line to the rescue for the other

Now that's a weird post title, no doubt causing the appearance of goose pimples for the squeamish and the pricking the of ears for the inquisitive and the well wishers.

The title concerns myself on the one hand and my dear wife, Mrs Bluelights, on the other. I may not have time to deal with my harrowing experience this time on account of my covering my wife's plight, but rest assured I shall deal with it next time, so watch this space.

As many know Mrs Bluelights has the misfortune to have secondary breast cancer.  I outlined the history of this on my previous post, see HERE.  She has been undergoing chemotherapy and has completed 5 from a course of 6.  After the first four she bounced back very quickly after the unpleasant side effects of the chemo and remarkably she was able to continue working at a local residential care home for three nights a week, with the exception of the actual weeks she underwent chemo.  Everyone, including the Oncology Consultants, were amazed at her ability and strength to do this, but let me tell you this gal is a real tough cookie and so strong and resilient, and it is really her way of dealing with the problem and to carry on as long as she can as normally as possible.

However, after chemo 5 things were very different this time - she never bounced back; in fact she got worse.  Her temperature kept spiking  at over 103 degrees F and she had two falls.  It was really worrying and we knew she must have an infection somewhere.  We rang for medical assistance and were advised to take her in to Accident and Emergency at our local, large hospital.  They confirmed she was in need of medical attention and she was transferred to Medical Assessment where she was diagnosed as having some form of infection she was unable to deal with herself because the chemo had severely compromised her immune system.  Her white blood cell count was very low, as was her red blood cells and therefore she was prescribed intravenous antibiotics plus a transfusion of 2 units of blood.  She was transferred to a ward where she was barrier nursed for a week.  I visited her every day, putting on a sexy yellow overall with complimentary bright blue rubber gloves.  At first was quite heartened by her gradual improvement.

The big problem was that because she has lymphoedema in one arm she could not have a cannula fitted there . . . . . and her other arm has had so many cannulas fitted, plus blood samples taken, plus chemotherapy injected, plus dyes injected for CT scans and a host of other things, that it was no longer possible to find another viein suitable for intravenous or IV treatment with liquid antibiotics. Honestly whenever a needle gets within a foot of her her veins run for cover and vanish, unlike me where they are very prominent.  The hospital medics did manage to fit one cannula as soon as she was admitted and this sufficed for the two transfusions and for a couple of IV treatments.  However the vein broke down and the cannula was ineffective after a few IV treatments, so her treatment stopped dead for 36 hours. Several senior nurses, a team of three doctors and an anesthetist all tried in vain to access a vein (forgive the pun) but all they managed to achieve was to cause a great deal of pain and to damage her veins even more - poor girl.  I wondered why no-one had progressed another avenue of fitting a PICC line which could be used for all purposes, except for CT scans.  Instead they eventually administered antibiotics in solid and oral form but still her temperature kept spiking and they were highly confused as to what exactly was causing the problem. In general her temperature appeared to be much lower by day but always spiked in the evening.  This situation remained until the end of the week when reluctantly they agreed to discharge her on the proviso that we would get her back to hospital if things got worse.

Well things did get worse - her temperature crept back to 102 F but early next morning (Saturday) we received a phone call from the hospital saying they had identified the culprit.  It was a nasty and very persistent UTI  (Urinary Tract Infection) which was resistant to all known antibiotics other than just one IV variety, and the solid antibiotics she had been taking were totally ineffective against it.  Fortunately she could return as a day patient for new IV treatment to Ambulatory Care. We had been very disappointed that her temperature was again high and it appeared we were back to square one so it came as a relief that for the first time light may be at the end of the tunnel.  We arrived and mercifully, after three goes, a lovely Nurse Practitioner managed to get a cannula inserted and began the treatment, returning the next day for the second. The bug is so vehement that it required 14 courses of antibiotics to knock it out and we all knew the cannula would not last that long, so it was decided to fit a PICC line after all and this was done today.

For those interested, a PICC line is a peripherally inserted central catheter and is fitted under a local anesthetic under ultrasound to enable access to deeper veins, entering near the inside of the elbow joint.  A PICC is inserted in a peripheral vein, such as the cephalic vein, basilic vein, or brachial vein and then advanced through increasingly larger veins, toward the heart until the tip rests in the distal superior vena cava orcavoatrial junction.  A cannula is attached to the lower end and easy access to it is available for all medical requirements, including blood for testing and intravenous injections.  The line can stay there for up to a year if required.  Mrs Bluelights had this fitted successfully and it was a Godsend because it was possible to have all further IV treatments at home by visiting District Nurses.  As I write we have one more IV tomorrow and then the treatment is completed.  The good news is that she feels very much better and the temperature problem is under control, being consistently normal.

We did have a slight disappointment in that because she was still having antibiotics and it was over two weeks delay from her scheduled 6th chemo treatment, the oncologist decided to cancel the last chemo because to have it so late would be completely ineffective.  So another CT scan has been arranged to see how and if the five chemo therapies have managed to deal with her cancer problem.

On the previous night before our appointment with the oncologist I had the shock of my life whilst taking a shower.  I must have nicked a vein and there was blood everywhere.  I'll explain exactly what happened next time, how it occurred  how I dealt with it alone, how I called emergency services, how I stayed up until 4.30 in the morning making sure I did not spring a leak again.  Suffice to say I am still here, alive and kicking and am pleased to say I even managed to save the carpet.  Watch this space!

But back to Mrs Bluelights, I am so grateful to all my bloggy pals who are praying with me for total and permanent remission for the cancer which is threatening her liver now.

Tall Stories at Bristol Zoo

Ahh! What's all this?

Recently our zoo in Bristol ran a series of successful TV advertisements inviting visitors to see their extensive range of dinosaurs.  I'm not sure how the other more authentic animals got on with them, or even how long they survived, but the advertisement advised us to visit NOW before the dinosaurs became extinct.  I thought that this was a very clever piece of marketing which I found amusing, since it appealed greatly to my rather over-developed sense of humour.  However, I passed on the invitation, preferring to visit later when a swarm of taxidermists had time to stuff them all, rendering them harmless.  

This all brought back lots of memories for me - not of the dinosaurs because I am not that old I hasten to add, but memories of the zoo itself with it's large collection of animals and beautiful grounds.

We are most fortunate in Bristol to have such an impressive zoo.  Although I have not visited for a number of years when I was younger I did enjoy many a warm summer's day there.  When I was but a small boy some inspirational stroke of genius possessed me to buy my mother a small wooden model of a hippopotamus.  She was not at all impressed when I handed it to her when I returned home, as you may imagine, wondering why I had chosen that particular ugly and vastly obese creature when there were lots of far more feminine and attractive wooden animals from which to choose.  I rather think she wondered whether there was some hidden message I was attempting to convey to her.  Needless to say the creature never appeared on display since it was unworthy of a place alongside her other more flattering and appealing ornaments.

On another occasional my sister, Maggie, and our cousin Sylvia had high drama in the bird house with a large red and yellow parrot.  It took one look at the bracelet Sylvia' was wearing, belonging to her mother and supposedly in her safe custody whilst on holiday with us.  It swooped from it's perch like grease lightening, taking us all by surprise, and grabbed the bracelet proceeding to roll it into a small silver ball and fighting us violently when we tried to get it back whilst shouting at it to let it go.  In reply it just imitated us in a high screech, "Let it go! Let it go!" and clawed at us until we had to give up.   We were horror struck, particularly Sylvia, who wondered what she would say to her mother about the strange demise of her cherished bracelet.  Of course I did not help matters because even in my youth my keen sense of humour prompted me to send Sylvia, now at home in Nottingham, a photograph of the parrot calling it TELECARB RETAE which spelled backwards read BRACELET EATER.  I was rather proud of this title since I thought it quite plausible as a Latin name for that species of parrot and to me this name looked entirely authentic. I do not think her mother ever cracked the code, but Sylvia did and we enjoyed the joke for many years and I continue to smile about it sometimes even to this day.  What Sylvia said to her mother about the missing bracelet remains unknown.

Well these memories exercised my chuckle muscle and actually I was inspired to write them up when I read about an article appearing in The London Times, featuring Bristol Zoo and a missing car park attendant.  No I do not think he was eaten by a dinosaur or even a lion - he just vanished.

Here is the article in full:

From The London Times: 

Outside the Bristol Zoo, in England, there is a parking lot for 150 cars and 8 coaches, or buses. 

It was manned by a very pleasant attendant with a ticket machine charging cars 1 pound (about $1.40) and coaches 5 (about $7). 

This parking attendant worked there solid for all of 25 years. Then, one day, he just didn't turn up for work. 

"Oh well", said Bristol Zoo Management - "we'd better phone up the City Council and get them to send a new parking attendant..." 

"Err ... no", said the Council, "that parking lot is your responsibility." 

"Err ... no", said Bristol Zoo Management, "the attendant was employed by the City Council, wasn't he?" 

"Err ... NO!" insisted the Council. 

Sitting in his villa somewhere on the coast of Spain, is a bloke who had been taking the parking lot fees, estimated at 400 pounds (about $560) per day at Bristol Zoo for the last 25 years. Assuming 7 days a week, this amounts to just over 3.6 million pounds ($7 million). 

And no one even knows his name.

What a clever chap!! I say, and for sheer ingenuity and cheek this chap deserves to get away with it, in my book!!  No, folks he was not me!! . . . just in case you were wondering.   Apparently, a few days after the article appeared, no less than 20 bogus car park attendants turned up at Bristol Zoo, sporting ticket machines, peaked hats and large money bags.  They proceeded to argue violently with each other as to who arrived first and who should claim the pitch when the real car park attendant arrived and sent them all packing.  Apparently the whole thing was a giant hoax.  Bristol Evening Post newspaper had made some investigations about the article and discovered some joker had sent this bogus story to The London Times - no folks, again it was not me, but boy did I laugh when I read this. Hope you enjoyed the stories - excuse me while I dash to find a suitable and promising pitch for my would be very lucrative car/bus ticket collecting operation. Now let;s see - I wonder where I should first try!! GOT IT!! NOT TELLING but don't look for me in Spain!!  BYE!  LOL.

A Very Happy Christmas To You All - AND A Happy New Year; Welcome 2013

Well, Christmas has come round yet again . . . . .  and so quickly!  I must be getting old, for time seems to travel much faster these days - and accelerating!. It seems like yesterday we were putting up our Christmas Tree and hunting around for replacement bulbs for our Christmas Tree lights. You may all know and have experienced this no doubt . . . . they seem most elusive and when found are never the right ones.

I wish you all a very Happy Christmas and a wonderful New Year - may 2013 be kind to us all.

I have been absent from BlogLand for a while because my dear wife, Mrs Bluelights, has experienced a set back regarding her health.  Most of you will know that about 15 years ago my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent a mastectomy, removal of 22 lymph nodes (9 of which were cancerous), chemo-therapy (a course of 6) and radio-therapy.  She was prescribed a hormone therapy drug, Tamoxifen, which she took for 5 years, then she was discharged. Unfortunately in 2008 secondary breast cancer was diagnosed in some of her bones.  This was contained by taking Tamoxifen but only for 2 years because the drug became ineffective and replaced by another hormone therapy drug which lasted only a year, then another which failed  We were very down and worried but the consultant reassured us that they had plenty more tricks up their sleeves.  By that time the cancer had spread again to the edge of her liver and progressed further into more bone areas.  She was in so much pain it was awful seeing her suffer like that and this coincided with our daughter's wedding in August, spoiling it to a degree.  I remember having to find a wheelchair after the evening reception to get her back to our accommodation. It was simply dreadful for her . . . and for me to see her like that. So after another consultation with the specialists, unfortunately she has had to undergo another course of chemo-therapy and has just completed no 4 out of 6 sessions which is a bit of an ordeal for her.  The good news is that after chemo 3 a new CT scan shows significant shrinkage of the invading 'nasties'. The consultants are delighted with her progress.  The other good news is that we have friends praying for her all over the world and she is on many, many church prayer lists, again all over the world.  We are sure this has had a lot to do with keeping this evil thing at bay for so long, that plus her determination . . . . plus our hope and, most important . . . .  our faith.

Thank you all for your prayers . . . they are so valued. We know that nothing is impossible for God and He does listen to our prayers and answers them in His own way and in His own time.  We cannot make Him cure her but we ask him to do so.

So Christmas is here once more and I took this photo of a crib at a local nursing home:

Soon we shall be celebrating Jesus's first advent, born in His humanity to be with us for 33 years - although many of us are longing for His second Advent when He shall appear in glory and full majesty.  But first time round the King of the universe actually humbled Himself to be with us, to give us hope, to die for us and to provide Salvation for everyone who wants it.  This little baby was here in his humanity, yet in His Divinity he was holding the whole universe together.  His presence in our lives has helped us so much with my dear wife's illness and we are so fortunate to have Him in our hearts. Unfortunately He is missing from so many hearts and I recently found some quotations from well known atheists, spoken on their death beds.  When they were young they were so fit and well and even very happy, witty and wise, but we all know when we are young we think we are immortal:

I shall quote just one which is so disturbing I just had to share it with you.  This is the sum total of how he viewed all humanity, including his life.  His name, Mark Twain:

"A myriad of men are born, they labor and sweat and struggle for bread. They squabble and scold and fight. They scramble for little mean advantages over each other. Age creeps upon them. Infirmities follow. Shames and humiliations bring down their prides and their vanities. Those they love are taken from them and the joy of life has turned to aching grief. The burden of pain and care and misery grows heavier year by year. At length, ambition is dead. Pride is dead. Vanity is dead. Longing for release is in their place. It comes at last. Death, the only un-poisoned gift earth ever had for them. And they vanish from a world where they were of no consequence, where they achieved nothing, where they were a mistake and a failure and a foolishness, where they have left no sign that they have existed, a world which will lament them a day and forget them forever. And then another myriad takes their place and copies all they did and goes along the same profitless road and vanishes as they vanished to make room for another and another and millions of myriads to follow the same arid path through the same desert and accomplish what the first myriad and all the myriads that came after it accomplished...nothing."

I don't know about you but I found this to be utterly stunning and incredible that anyone can come to the conclusion that this is the total sum of their existence - total failure and nothing - and this by a man of such great genius and intellect.  If only he knew that here on Cosmos Diabolicus, as I call it, we can use just 5% of our brain power - some a little more, some a little less, but we will one day we operate at 100% efficiency - imagine that, when everything will make sense to us and when we shall all be blissfully happy.

I can quote other famous atheist men who at the end of their lives came to similar conclusions but time does not permit me to expand on this here. However,  I read somewhere that atheism is much harder to believe than Christianity.  In mathematical terms to be an atheist and to explain creation one has to believe that:

Nobody x Nothing = Everything

as opposed to:

Somebody x Something out of Nothing = Everything

I suggest the second formula is much easier to accept than the first.

I compare Mark Twain's spoken word to the death of my own mother and her unspoken words, as a believer.  She did not have to say anything - her actions were much more vocal than mere words. She had been unconscious for a number of days in hospital after a tragic illness.  She awoke one morning and fortunately my sister, Maggie and I were at the hospital by her bedside.  We could converse quite well with her and she could converse back, but then she drifted back into unconsciousness.  She awoke a few hours later in the  afternoon, looking in my direction, but I thought not directly at me - perhaps just behind me.  I have never seen such a wonderful and loving smile on any face. It was as though someone standing right behind me had come to collect her and take her to paradise. After that moment we knew our real mother had gone and only her shell remained in her bed.  I often wonder whether this person was my father . . . . or maybe Jesus Himself.  Perhaps one day I shall know when it is my turn to make that journey.

Letter Of Resignation

Dear Boss

I am seriously considering tending my resignation but I wanted to write to you to express some concerns I have..

Since I started working for you I don't have time to blog anymore.

When I don’t have time to blog anymore my readers hate me.

When my readers hate me they don’t visit my blog anymore.

When my readers don’t visit my blog anymore my hits drop.
When my hits drop my comments drop

When my hits and/or comments drop I become unhappy.

When I become unhappy I eat a lot.

When I eat a lot I get fat

When I get fat, it affects your company’s image

When your company’s image is affected your business is no good.

When your business is no good you become unhappy

When you become unhappy you eat a lot, just like me.

When you eat a lot you become fat, just like me.

You see Boss, it’s a vicious cycle.  I don’t want you to become unhappy because I care about you, Boss. Further to my concern is that I am not able to visit my fellow bloggers' posts, read them and make comments. Consequently my fellow bloggers, when they discover I have not commented:
Eat a lot,
Get Fat,
Become inefficient at their jobs,
Degrade their company businesses,
Write to their bosses, who become unhappy, eat a lot and get fat.
Just imagine, indirectly you might be contributing to the national obesity problem, or worse, global obesity.  Further, you might, indirectly, be the cause of global recession, global unemployment and global unhappiness - all because I cannot blog anymore.

So the conclusion is I may have to resign so you don't get fat and the world does not sink into depression (both personal and economic).  So perhaps you'd better let me go unless you can free me some time to blog in order to save the world.

Then my readers won’t hate me anymore.

My readers will visit my blog again.

My hits will increase.
My comments will increase.

I will be happy.

I will not eat a lot.

I will not get fat.

Your company image will be unaffected.

Your business will be good again.

You will be happy.

You will not eat a lot.

You will not get fat.
The global population will be happy, productive and prosperous - all because of you, Boss.  Aren't you kind? 

In fact you will be so happy you will tear up this letter and say, “Please don’t resign or even think of it.  I am going to give you some office time to blog, plus a computer and a fast broadband, plus full backing from our IT department.  I am going to promote you and I am going to give you a big pay rise, a company car, 8 weeks holiday, full insurance and hospital cover, a good pension pot, unlimited preference shares, a seat on the board - in fact you can become Chief Executive, my job, because I am resigning to start blogging."

Thanks Boss.
Yours sincerely,

Fred Blogs

______________________________________________________________________
Just a little mental doodle of what I might say if I had a boss!! LOL.  Oh I have, Mrs Bluelights so I'd better send it to her. LOL

Conspicuous By My Blogging Absence

Hi Folks!

I am posting just to let you know My Big Mug is definitely still in the land of the living LOL.

I am sorry I have been away from BlogLand for so long and I have neglected to visit all my blogging friends. It is my first blogging break since I started about three years ago and there have been a number of activities which have kept me busy during my absence.  I hope to return to BlogLand soon and resume my Ambulance stories and add to my Painting and Decorating tales.

Also I have some fabulous video clips I shot of nesting birds in my garden - both Blue Tits and Great Tits and I am assembling a video program for us.

Until then I am concentrating on getting the garden into better shape and trying very hard to cultivate my begonia patch and clematis plants. I took a snap of a climbing clematis, called Ville De Lyon, which I planted a couple of years ago - like it? It is growing through a climbing honeysuckle which should provide much more colour next year.

Unfortunately I have no begonias, as yet.

I am hampered somewhat by this dreadful weather we are experiencing - most depressing.  In the UK we have had lots of serious flooding, although I am relieved to say that Mrs Bluelights and I have not been affected too badly because we are on high ground.  The funny part is that just prior to the deluge I bought a 200 litre water butt because the weather people had forecast a serious drought.  Everyone is talking about Global Warming!! Where is it?  There's no evidence of it here -  we are all drenched and shivering.

Bye for now and hope to see you all soon. Oh! if you've got some time to spare to watch a very unusual marriage proposal leading to an impromptu wedding then click HERE for some serious entertainment.

I INTERRUPT MY BLOG BREAK WITH THIS HILARIOUS SONG

I am tempted out from my blog break by this hilarious email I received tonight - guaranteed to exercise even the laziest chuckle muscle.

Julie Andrews has given us a slight variation on her famous song from The Sound Of Music.  I know exactly how she feels LOL.  I feel like adding a piece about an artificial hip, removed appendix and two digital hearing aids..

Enjoy:

To  commemorate her birthday, actress/vocalist, Julie Andrews  made a special appearance at Manhattan bsp's Radio City  Music Hall for the benefit of the AARP.

One of the  musical numbers she performed was 'My Favourite Things' from  the legendary movie 'Sound Of Music'.
Here are the  lyrics she used  :  -


(Sing  It!)  - If  you sing it, its especially hysterical!!!


Botox and  nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and  handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines  tied up in string,
These are a few of my favourite  things.
Cadillac's  and cataracts, hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and  Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf  carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my  favourite things.


When  the pipes leak, When the bones creak,
When the knees go  bad,
I simply  remember my favourite things,
And then I don't feel so  bad.

Hot tea  and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food  or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads  and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my  favourite things...

Back  pain, confused brains and no need for sinnin',
Thin  bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we  won't mention our short shrunken frames,
When we  remember our favourite things.

When the  joints ache, When the hips break,
When the eyes grow  dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And  then I don't feel so bad.


(Ms. Andrews  received a standing ovation from the crowd
that lasted over four minutes and  repeated encores.
Please share Ms. Andrews' clever wit  and humour with others who would appreciate  it)

I think she deserves a 10 out of 10. Agreed?
What a good sport she is.

A Blogging Break

Hi Folks!

I am long overdue for a short blogging break, so I have decided to:

 . . . . . with lots of Kit Kat chocolate LOL.

I have been blogging for 3 years and this is my first break, although I have not been very active in BlogLand for a while.  I am very busy with life outside BlogLand and have little time to devote to posting and commenting - sorry I have not visited for a while.

I hope it won't be too long before I return with batteries suitably charged, new ideas in my cerebral hemispheres and fingers eager to glide over the keys on strict instructions from the guy wearing this famous thinking hat.

Meanwhile you are most welcome to have a cup-pa at my second blog, Plato's Procrastinations, where I post my favourite music and comedy sketches.  Ever seen/heard anyone play the fast last movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata on . . . . . . wait for it . . . . . . electric guitar? Well HERE'S your chance.