« Last Page »

Moving On

« Next Page »

The orange fingers were creeping up the river to touch the bridge. Their glancing feel induced in the bridge a bright golden glow that turned the ever increasing traffic into neatly wrapped sweets, sliding, conveyor like, to be diverted at the end toward their respective packaging points.
No I'm not going mad. This was the image I got as I looked from the hospital ward on the morning of my pituitary removal.

It was a bright spring morning. Friday the 13th of March to be precise. 6am, Ward 20 of the Dundee Royal Infirmary. This was the view I got as I looked down from the hill, past the college and across the town to the bridge coming across the water from Fife and beyond.
To be honest I was considering "legging it", getting the next bus home and chancing my life to fate. This day was too nice to die.

I was afraid, I freely admit that. I knew that my tumour had to come out but I also knew that this was major surgery, with major risks. I was not altogether sure that sometime, later today, I would not be getting wheeled across the car park to Pathology.
But I was prepared, I was ready to face my fate. What I was not, at that time, prepared for was the difference this day was going to make on the rest of my life.

"Squeeze my finger, tickle my bum, c'mon wake up it's time for some fun"
I think that is what he said anyway as he came toward me from out of the deep blackness.
Then it was,
"tickled tummy, your names the one. Today's the day you go out to play"
After a few more attempts it became a little clearer,
"Squeeze my finger. What is your name? What day is it? Why are you here?"

The darkness slowly melted away and I became aware of the tubes tugging at various parts of my body and I had a finger with a laser beam in it. I became aware of people fussing around my bed and I could hear the machine that goes Beep! Beep!
"Not Pathology then?"

I can only describe my stay in hospital as an experience. I had a wicked headache on the Sunday but apart from that I felt fantastic. I think that the big doses of steroids they were giving me had some kind of sedatory effect. I was more relaxed than I had been for many years. I was enjoying hospital food!! All of the symptoms which had become a part of my life and even some that I did not know were symptoms, disappeared overnight. There was no doubt that they had got to the root of the problem.

Thanks guys!
The entire team in ward twenty was perfect for their task. There was enough of every element, humour, professionalism and insanity to make it a functional force appreciated by all of the patients. I just hope, for the sake of Tayside patients, that this team is still together. I rather doubt it. Pity!

Eventually they got sick of me and threw me out. Told me to go home. Oh dear! Now I would have to start getting to grips with my new and improved life.

Steroids Forever

It took a few days for me to come down from my operation, even after I got home. The steroids were wearing off and I was getting toward a level which is considered average. I think it was then that the reality of the situation began to sink in.

Normally our bodies are very finely tuned. Everything is produced in the correct quantities to balance the system. Not so after pituitary removal. All of the hormones previously produced by the pituitary need to be replaced. But it goes a bit further than that.

The steroid hydrocortisone is produced in the Adrenal Cortex (The outer layer of the Adrenal Gland) and is stimulated by the hormone ACTH secreted from the pituitary.

This is how Encarta describes it:

A fuller description and some advice is available at Tayendoweb.
A printable version of their Hydrocortisone page is available HERE

Prior to my diagnosis I knew nothing at all about steroids. I always assumed that it was a fairly benign substance that somehow increased your muscle power. I understand now though.

These are very powerful drugs indeed and it is they, almost alone, that span the bridge between life and death for me. If I had to go a couple of days without steroids I would be quite seriously ill indeed. Probably requiring hospital treatment. And I can feel it every day, twice a day. And with every runny nose.

In day to day living, the mornings are probably the worst time for me. I take my tablets (20mg) with my first cup of coffee and then I have to sit back for about an hour before I am fit enough to get up and at em. It's the steroids that give me that strength. At around three o'clock in the afternoon I can feel myself winding down to my next tablet (10mg) at around half past four. That keeps me going until bedtime at 11 or 12.

Every day is the same unless something happens to change the routine. But there are many things that can change a day. Everything from stress to illness can and does have a significant effect on the patient.

At this present time I am getting more than my fair share of stress from my local housing office. (See: Wot's Goin' On) This has been having a significant effect on my health. It is very hard to describe what stress does to me now. It is almost as if the steroid is used up by the stress and so less is left for day to day body management. I feel, not unwell, but more tired, weaker, less able to get on with things and my concentration can be affected as well. All of this seems to lead to more stress and the circle just keeps going on and on.

I've learned to back off a bit from stress. To take myself out of the circle. Instead of writing that angry letter I will go and sit in the garden watch the Blackbirds pulling at worms in the sunshine. This kind of thing seems to calm my mind and allows the steroid to concentrate on the more important issues. I guess that extra steroids would help but I like to save the extras for more serious things, like catching a cold.

More soon...

« Last Page »  «Top»  « Next Page »