Shipwrecks and Safe Shores

Odysseus suffered a whole series of shipwrecks. Not every shore he landed on was friendly, but this one was. Here he is greeted by Nausicaa, the daughter of King Alcinous of the Phaeacians who placed great store by the Greek tradition of hospitality, which they called xenia. The business of seeking asylum has changed a bit since then.

Well, he looks like I feel, and Nausicaa and her companions look like very much like nurses to me. She seems to be quite composed but they are a bit shocked, like the nurses in St Mary's - 'What - you're back again?' So I was. It's a pity hospitals don't have loyalty cards. I'm collecting plenty of points and would be well on the way to a Gold Card with several of them. How did this happen?

I had the second chemo session and felt fine until about a week afterwards. I did a blood test and it showed that the infection marker was rising again and that I was neutropenic, which is the fancy medical term for having a weak immune system. In fact in this case, the system was not just weak but down and out, with some types of white blood cell barely present at all. The local GP was so concerned he called me from home on a Sunday morning. I got sent a few more shots to boost my immune system, but a few days later I was off to an urgent care centre and thence to St Mary's again for several days of intravenous antibiotics. Luckily, this time round I got there early enough to avoid being put in intensive care.

The cause was the new enemy which is rapidly becoming an old enemy: pseudonomas. Sensing the absence of the white blood cell police it had gone on the rampage again and had begun living it up in my right lung once more. Given its resistance to most antibiotics, it can only be suppressed, not eliminated. Now it is back under control, I have done another PET scan to see what is going on inside before giving myself over to the Marsden for the third chemo session.

However, this has become a pattern: the chemo knocks out my immune system, the pseudomonas gang or another bunch of bacterial thugs roar off to spread mayhem in my lungs or elsewhere, and we have to call in the heavies of the antibiotic riot police to kick them back into the dark alleyways where they belong. There they skulk until the next opportunity arises.

I shall consult the oracles of oncology to see if there is a way of breaking this. I need to land on a safe shore and avoid being shipwrecked on every stage of the journey.