Another Dark Little Corner

moon phases

Started this before change to "New Blogger", as backup in case of trouble with digiphoto blog "In a Small Dark Room", or rants & links blog "Hello Cruel World" . Useful - at one stage Dark Room was there, but like the astrophysical Dark Matter, we could't see it ... better now, but kept Just In Case.

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There is nothing. There is no God and no universe, there is only empty space, and in it a lost and homeless and wandering and companionless and indestructible Thought. And I am that thought. And God, and the Universe, and Time, and Life, and Death, and Joy and Sorrow and Pain only a grotesque and brutal dream, evolved from the frantic imagination of that same Thought.
Mark Twain (letter to Joseph Twichell after his wife's death)
[me, on a bad day]

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continued: Not Good News (Lung Drainage)  
So after being faffed around on Monday, I was able to get an appointment at the Oncology Unit on Tuesday (1 week before Christmas) when I was supposed to be at work. Another bunch of blood tests, the doctor (registrar under the consultant) tried to get an appointment to get the fluid in my lung drained. Originally arranged for Wednesday, which meant I could be there for the last day of work before we broke up for the Christmas-New Year break, by the afternoon of Tuesday it was postponed to Thursday morning. So I was able to go into work on the Wednesday, finish off a bit of work, distribute the goodies I'd put together, and collect some myself.

Bright and early on Thursday, presented my poor tender, breathless body for some help. They used ultrasound to visualize the inside while I sat sideways hooked over a chairback with my arm up on my opposite shoulder, then took a couple of stabs to get the bit they wanted. The first go made me feel quite sick, as well as feeling quite unpleasant (They'd applied local anaesthetic as well as antiseptic to the skin, so all the sensation was internal.) The second try, they also gave me oxygen to breathe. Whether it was that or because they were hitting a different set of nerves, although there was a very uncomfortable, deep sort of achey sensation (almost like joint pain or bone ache), I wasn't nauseated. They took a sample of the fluid for testing.

So I was hooked up to a plastic tube that drained into a cute little plastic receptacle with measurements marked on it, and a handle to carry around. They put me in a wheelchair with it & the oxygen cylinder, and we went up from the basement to the chemotherapy ward of happy memory where I sat with my drain inserted, draining for a couple of hours. Strangely, I hadn't slept at all well — only partly because of problems breathing — so although I had a book and was reading it, I also drifted off to sleep a few times. When no more fluid was draining out, one of the nurses extracted the tube and put a dressing over both the wounds.

After a little while it was back down to get another chest x-ray to see how well it had worked. Unluckily, the lung was still partially collapsed. On the plus side, I could breathe rather easier, if not normally. On the minus side, especially once the anaesthetic wore off, the stab wounds, internally as well as externally, hurt, and more when I coughed, and there was an irritation that made me cough a fair bit. Then it was a week to wait, including Christmas, for my next appointment to get the test results and see how the lung & I got on.

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