Filed under Medical procedures

Oh, holy crap sticks

For the first time in nine years I have no venous access. I am 99.9% sure that my port has infused it’s last bolus. I have a portogram* scheduled later this week which will no doubt snuff out the last vestige of hope that it can be salvaged. Oh, holy crap sticks. Almost every human ably … Continue reading

Beautiful chipmunk

Beautiful chipmunk

I had my wisdom teeth out. To be pedantic, I had a “coronectomy” which is what all the cool kids (with stubbourn teeth that have roots lying in close proximity to important nerves) are having done. They butterflied my gums and cheeks like a leg of lamb, exposed my wisdom teeth, gave them an experimental … Continue reading

The Hospital Vortex

The other day Dave spent more than ninety minutes waiting for medications to be dispensed at the hospital pharmacy. Everyone I’ve told simply can’t believe how long we needed to wait. And they have a point.

Did I mention that I love my port?

This admission has increased my already boundless love for my port-a-cath. The whole process would have been one hundred million billion times more traumatic without it. I required a CT scan to visualise my innards. This meant I needed to drink 500 ml of oral contrast which prompted one of my projectile vomits. I also … Continue reading

Feeling…. meh

The last month was kind of rough for us. Dave was feeling distinctly…. meh. By which I mean, he was debilitated. Like someone crash tackled him out of life and firmly benched him. He was sick of being sick. He needed IV’s like a fish needs water. He’s had a week and a half of … Continue reading

The tongue which almost got away

Once upon a time, many moons ago, I was sitting in an empty dresser drawer which had been pulled out from the dresser and was resting on the floor. I had a perfectly lovely time pretending it was a boat.

Scar Stories

Scar Stories

If I was ever murdered and dismembered by a serial killer I reckon that all of my body parts could be easily identified. By scars. Except for my left leg. My left leg is pretty much perfect. I do have my Dad’s toes though so if they used him as a reference point then that … Continue reading

10 things

10 things I would rather do than have a PICC line: Re-sit my Physics 1001 exam from first year uni. Chop up 5 kg of onions. With a spoon. Stub each and every toe. Do 8 hours straight of weeding. With my stubbed toes. Prepare and paint an entire house. Look for a needle in … Continue reading

My life as a pincushion

My life as a pincushion

Getting blood out of me is like getting blood out of a stone. In my experience, blood collection is synonymous with fiasco. Up front, I let the collector know that my veins are difficult, I kindly point out the best vein for blood collection on my right hand, suggest that they will need to use … Continue reading

New balloons

This week one of my friends received the most magical gift – a shiny new pair of lungs, new balloons! Her journey to transplant has been rocky and her grit and determination is inspirational. I wish I could showcase her story for you all to marvel at. However, it is not my story to share. … Continue reading