Showing posts with label port-a-cath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label port-a-cath. Show all posts
The Big Questions
After three years of treatment, I suspect many people are a bit lost with Hugo's illness and treatment. Here are some of the questions I have been asked and a few others that I thought people might want answers to.
Leaving Normality
A couple of months ago, on the way back from a hospital appointment, Hugo asked me what it felt like when I had my bumpy taken out. Bumpy is our name for Hugo's port-a-cath/central line. The little device that sits just under the skin to the side of his chest. It will be removed a few weeks after treatment finishes. I explained that I'd never had one and we chatted for a while about why he does. He seemed content with this, but a couple of days later he asked big brother Henry what it felt like when his bumpy came out. It made me wonder how much Hugo understands of his illness and what 'end of treatment' actually means to him.
What happens next?
During our last appointment at GOSH, our oncology nurse specialist answered the all important question - 'what happens when treatment ends?' I've asked many questions relating to this along the way. Always hesitantly, not wanting to look too far ahead, not wanting to assume we will make it that far. One day at a time, that was always the way to deal with this, but sometimes the practical side of me would come out and I needed to know, I needed a glimpse into the next stage of our lives. Now we are here, now it was time to get the full story.
Day in the Life - Bloods
Once a week a community nurse comes to our house to take some blood from Hugo via his bumpy. This blood is then sent to the lab and later that day, or the following day, we get a phone call with the results, which I write in our blue folder.
The Long Version
Over the last few weeks we have had a couple of little blips. Small bumps along the road of our new normal.
We have these every so often. I don't tend to write about them, because everything turns out to be ok. There's nothing to worry about and it just doesn't seem newsworthy in the bigger picture, once the moment has passed. But I should. Because these bumps are so much a part of our cancer journey. They are the reason why our life is so far from normal, they are the story behind the chemotherapy and the more familiar aspects of a cancer experience.
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