Update, of the fairly serious kind.
Below is an update on me, and how I came to be missing for so long.
Ok, So I know I've been gone a long time, and I felt like I should explain that because of reasons.
Below is a fairly in depth explanation of some medical stuff that make make some squeamish people, well, squeamish.
Firstly M and I went our separate ways, after four years of being together that was very hard, but it could have gone a lot worse and healing always takes time. I was staying with friends and commuting a very long way (2.5 hours each way) into London every day. I'm convinced this only exacerbated the issues that were to come.
Over Christmas I experienced acute biliary colic and saw my mother's doctor who suggested that due to a strong family history it could be gallstones. He prescribed some painkillers and urged me to register with a GP as soon as I was settled in London. Before I could do that I was struck with another attack that left me unable to breathe through it and landed in the emergency dept of Reading hospital.
I was discharged with a second diagnosis of gallstones, prescribed some more pills and told the same "see a GP when you're settled in London"
However, the next day I got a call from the hospital, from the haematology department. I had a blood test while under investigation and they had discovered my platelet count was low. She wanted me to return to the hospital asap but I had to go house-hunting something I couldn't put off any longer than I already had over Christmas. myself and my house-mate were essentially homeless. I promised her I would get to a hosp when I was able.
I decided that because my grandmother wasn't well and my mother was complaining about never seeing me I would stay with them while I got a new house-share in London sorted out and go to the hospital there. I saw the same doctor as before regarding the call I had from the haematologist, he was shocked and appalled that I had been discharged in the first place.
A little context: Your blood had three main types of cells, red blood cells that carry oxygen around your body, white blood cells that attack infection and platelets that clot your blood after injury. In any given sample of blood (I can't remember the exact measurement, something like a microlitre) you should have 150k platelets. given as a count of "150" mine had come out at "14".
I was immediately referred to the haematology clinic at the hospital in Eastbourne and signed off work until proper investigation could be done. The consultant I was under explained that with a count of anything under "20" I was at risk from internal bleeding from even minor injuries or bumps, or even spontaneously bleeding in the brain.
The doctors suggested I had a condition called ITP, which is an autoimmune disease where after a viral infection (I had pneumonia a while back) your white blood cells fight off the infection and don't stop, they attack the platelets in your blood. It can be acute or chronic, but I would need many more tests.
My next count was "12" I was prescribed immediate treatment in the form of intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG). This is basically a refined blood product containing the antibodies from donated blood. For five days I was to be hooked up to an IV drip for four to five hours a day. I began the highly unpleasant process two days later. IVIG contains a lot of sugar but the antibodies make you feel like you have the worst flu imaginable. So I was both hyper from the sugar and wiped out from the drug, I had headaches I couldn't shift and it upset my tummy terribly. I expressed my concern over the side effects after the first day, they noted them down and asked me to keep a close eye on things.
After the second day of treatment the headache was worse, I went to bed almost as soon as I got home. The next morning I woke with something approaching a migraine, only far far worse. I was shaking uncontrollably and throwing up. My mum rushed me to the ward and I was admitted straight away. I had reacted to the drug, and the reaction had presented as aseptic meningitis.
I was in for a few days, flooded with antibiotics and anti-emetics while I worked up the ability to first sit up on my own again, then stand without throwing up. I remained admitted to the ward but was given day release and allowed home as long as I could keep my temperature down. The following week I returned to IVIG treatment, on a different drug that had a higher tolerance rate. I coped with this one better for a few days but the damage the IV lines and cannulas had done to my veins was taking its toll. I needed two or three new ones a day as slowly each one they put in to deliver the drug failed and backed up.
I reacted again to the drug on the final day of treatment, but not as badly as the first time, we all knew that if I couldn't complete the course I would need to start again from square one. Dosed up on heavy painkillers I lay in my bed and cried as they completed the last round.
Having completed the treatment my platelets are still low but at much safer levels. They have all but decided my ITP is chronic, that I will be managing this for a very long time, but I am not in such danger now. Having successfully moved to London I will be referred shortly to a haematologist up here for further management. The addition of the discover of a golfball sized cyst on one of my ovaries has complicated matters but it shouldn't be too much more to cope with.
I am currently still off work, hoping to be back for the end of the month on a phased return, I am still recovering mostly from the effects of the IVIG.
Thanks for sticking with the wall of text, I hope you've all been well in my absence. xx
Ok, So I know I've been gone a long time, and I felt like I should explain that because of reasons.
Below is a fairly in depth explanation of some medical stuff that make make some squeamish people, well, squeamish.
Firstly M and I went our separate ways, after four years of being together that was very hard, but it could have gone a lot worse and healing always takes time. I was staying with friends and commuting a very long way (2.5 hours each way) into London every day. I'm convinced this only exacerbated the issues that were to come.
Over Christmas I experienced acute biliary colic and saw my mother's doctor who suggested that due to a strong family history it could be gallstones. He prescribed some painkillers and urged me to register with a GP as soon as I was settled in London. Before I could do that I was struck with another attack that left me unable to breathe through it and landed in the emergency dept of Reading hospital.
I was discharged with a second diagnosis of gallstones, prescribed some more pills and told the same "see a GP when you're settled in London"
However, the next day I got a call from the hospital, from the haematology department. I had a blood test while under investigation and they had discovered my platelet count was low. She wanted me to return to the hospital asap but I had to go house-hunting something I couldn't put off any longer than I already had over Christmas. myself and my house-mate were essentially homeless. I promised her I would get to a hosp when I was able.
I decided that because my grandmother wasn't well and my mother was complaining about never seeing me I would stay with them while I got a new house-share in London sorted out and go to the hospital there. I saw the same doctor as before regarding the call I had from the haematologist, he was shocked and appalled that I had been discharged in the first place.
A little context: Your blood had three main types of cells, red blood cells that carry oxygen around your body, white blood cells that attack infection and platelets that clot your blood after injury. In any given sample of blood (I can't remember the exact measurement, something like a microlitre) you should have 150k platelets. given as a count of "150" mine had come out at "14".
I was immediately referred to the haematology clinic at the hospital in Eastbourne and signed off work until proper investigation could be done. The consultant I was under explained that with a count of anything under "20" I was at risk from internal bleeding from even minor injuries or bumps, or even spontaneously bleeding in the brain.
The doctors suggested I had a condition called ITP, which is an autoimmune disease where after a viral infection (I had pneumonia a while back) your white blood cells fight off the infection and don't stop, they attack the platelets in your blood. It can be acute or chronic, but I would need many more tests.
My next count was "12" I was prescribed immediate treatment in the form of intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG). This is basically a refined blood product containing the antibodies from donated blood. For five days I was to be hooked up to an IV drip for four to five hours a day. I began the highly unpleasant process two days later. IVIG contains a lot of sugar but the antibodies make you feel like you have the worst flu imaginable. So I was both hyper from the sugar and wiped out from the drug, I had headaches I couldn't shift and it upset my tummy terribly. I expressed my concern over the side effects after the first day, they noted them down and asked me to keep a close eye on things.
After the second day of treatment the headache was worse, I went to bed almost as soon as I got home. The next morning I woke with something approaching a migraine, only far far worse. I was shaking uncontrollably and throwing up. My mum rushed me to the ward and I was admitted straight away. I had reacted to the drug, and the reaction had presented as aseptic meningitis.
I was in for a few days, flooded with antibiotics and anti-emetics while I worked up the ability to first sit up on my own again, then stand without throwing up. I remained admitted to the ward but was given day release and allowed home as long as I could keep my temperature down. The following week I returned to IVIG treatment, on a different drug that had a higher tolerance rate. I coped with this one better for a few days but the damage the IV lines and cannulas had done to my veins was taking its toll. I needed two or three new ones a day as slowly each one they put in to deliver the drug failed and backed up.
I reacted again to the drug on the final day of treatment, but not as badly as the first time, we all knew that if I couldn't complete the course I would need to start again from square one. Dosed up on heavy painkillers I lay in my bed and cried as they completed the last round.
Having completed the treatment my platelets are still low but at much safer levels. They have all but decided my ITP is chronic, that I will be managing this for a very long time, but I am not in such danger now. Having successfully moved to London I will be referred shortly to a haematologist up here for further management. The addition of the discover of a golfball sized cyst on one of my ovaries has complicated matters but it shouldn't be too much more to cope with.
I am currently still off work, hoping to be back for the end of the month on a phased return, I am still recovering mostly from the effects of the IVIG.
Thanks for sticking with the wall of text, I hope you've all been well in my absence. xx