unbelievable

Lying awake with heartburn :-( I can now add cream cheese icing to cream, as things which I should not eat late at night.

btw: glass of cool water and the heartburn is gone.

I also have a bit of a "tension" headache. Headaches are supposed to be one possible symptom of a flooded brain. I've just had my brain drained so I am ignoring the headache.

Deb asked, If I get headaches... will I ignore them -- or go to hospital.

I was uncertain. I guess the answer is clearer now.

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One of the problems with my left-side blindness is that I hit the wrong key on the keyboard.

The worst is when I aim for an a or s and hit caps lock... Other mis-hits need correction. A line of all caps needs the entire line to be retyped.

So now I have finally removed the caps lock key from my keyboard.

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A huge benefit of the Hollywood hospital room is that it has a thermostat that works.

I cranked the temperature up enough so that I am comfortable. Then add blankets so that I am actually warm

.

How does the body generate heat?

Exercise... not when stuck in a hospital bed.

warm room, blanket... helps.

Food as fuel to burn for heat.

Most of the hospital meals are too disgusting to eat. Any nice food is too little for a biafran. So I am constantly underfed. If I did any exercise... I would be able to develop the gaunt look that I associate with cancer. But no such luck.

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Anyway... with heat and blankets I finally get warm. Warm enough to record a temperature which is above normal. By less than a half degree.

Nurse Ratchett pulls off my blankets. I am cool within a minute.

Now this is unbelievable, even I find it hard to believe:

Almost four days after my latest escape from hospital -- and I am still bloody furious. Unbelievable.

Out of perhaps two dozen measurements, *one* is high. I now have a record of a "temperature spike". Every other measurement -- before and after -- is normal. Now I have one "temperature spike".

So the surgeon immediately says that I need an extra day in hospital. This is when I lose it.

He also prescribes antibiotics. The first I know of this is when a nurse -- in the middle of the night -- tells me to swallow two pills.

I tell her -- though not in these words -- to bugger off.

For those who worry: I eventually get home. At home I take antibiotic tablets three times a day, with meals. No fuss.

Because Deb wants me to take them.

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btw: I have absolute faith in the surgical skills of the surgeon. Four times I have put my life in his hands, with no doubts at all.

risking "Life" or perhaps "ability to think". Which to me is more important.

This is the surgeon who removed my original tumour. I will trust him to do it again -- as often as necessary.

But here's the thing -- I am not "cured". The cancer *will* come back. There is no cure. My cancer is *terminal*. So, sooner or later -- this cancer will kill me.

Till then... I try to enjoy life. I have my ups and downs but I think I mostly do okay.

Any day in hospital is a day which I  *cannot* enjoy.

One day, doctors will say... you are about to die very soon.

From that day... any day in hospital is a day on which I may as well be dead.

That's my feeling now... it may change.

I have learnt to hate and fear being in hospital. Rather... with a warm room, I hate and fear being in hospital because it is away from home.

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Now I'll go back to bed.

I hope that I have calmed the absolute fury that comes with memories of the last two hospital stays.

Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper

...        Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved

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Question authority. Don't expect to like the answer." ... per Ginger Meggs

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Dying for you to read my blog, at https://notdotdeaddotyet.blogspot.com/ :-)