The Nature of Freedom

I am learning that Freedom is beautiful, but transient. This makes it a metaphor for life itself, I guess.

I was released from Hospital several days ago, but yesterday afternoon saw me strapped to a bed there, again, undergoing a 5th round of "platelets" transfusion. I was not very thrilled with that idea, even if it is potentially life-saving treatment. Does that make me ungrateful? Probably not, merely human.

I am so weak, that even walking about 60 metres from the car to the front door, made me puffed, yesterday. I confess that I managed 200 metres on flat ground today, and sat for a while, then managed the same distance back again. Progress - of a kind. For someone who likes to take regular exercise - one might say, take it for granted - this is really quite shocking.

My white cell count is rocketing up the charts, which is good. It needs to increase just a bit, and then hold it for two consecutive days, then my white cell count will be good enough to quit the "blood doping" GCSF medication. When that happens, my platelet count should then start to regularise itself (as the blood doping stuff fights the platelets, apparently).

Here are two photos which Zoe took today, at the end of our 200 metre stroll today - am optimistic male Black Swan (a Cob) which came up looking for a feed.

When it was denied a free feed, it took out a bit of Swan Rage on a female of the species. Testosterone fury is universal, I am afraid, Ladies.

The Kangaloon Aquifer. What is happening?

Before we get political, here's a medical update.

Dad is now on day 10 after "stem cell" re implantation. He has had a few days of feeling low, but not desperately ill.
However, the blood count stats have now turned the corner. White cells were at zero, but are now statistically meaningful: 0.1;0.2;0.4;0.5.
So he thinks it safe to proclaim himself the "come-back kid.
One main side effect... His grey and white hair (now only stubble, as he cut his hair before treatment started) keeps falling out. Being the proud owner of a Minature Schnauzer, this means that he and the lovely Lena will not be winning any Dog/Owner look alike competitions in the near future. Tragic!
xxx Zoe.

The Kangaloon Aquifer. What is happening?

Regular readers will know of my concern about the proposal by Mr Iemma to pump dry the Kangaloon Aquifer.
Peta Seaton M.L.A convened a well attended public meeting in Robertson. A consultative group was to be set up.
Unfortunately, I have been out of contact recently. But my local friends have been keeping thier eyes and ears open. They seem to have heard little or nothing. <p>

I fear that Peta Seaton is sitting on the issue, hoping to use it against the Iemma government, in next year's election. That would be understandable. However, it is a risky strategy. <p>

Given the physical simplicity of drilling a few more bores (in addition to the "test" bores already drilled), connecting a pump to each bore, and a length of pipe from each bore to the nearest creek - draining the aquifer could easily begin long before the election. <p>

This issue is too serious to be subsumed beneath political convenience (or advantage) for individual local members.

A) If pumping commences, I will blame Matt Brown M.L.A, member for Kiama (ALP) for choosing loyalty to Government over concern for the environment.

B) But I shill also blame Peta Seaton M.L.A for sitting on her hands while work proceeded under her nose.

C) that would be a lose: lose: lose scenario.
Matt Brown might lose his seat.
Peta Seaton will not lose her seat, but will lose any credibility she might have on environmental issues.
But the environment will be the biggest loser.

THE KANGALOON AQUIFER MUST NOT BE DRAINED!!

I accept responsibility for political content of this blog entry.
Denis Wilson,
Robertson NSW.

The Nature of Delirium

Dad wrote this yesterday.... xZ.

How particular is our blood? Mine is very fussy about whose blood it will share it's veins with.
Yesterday I recieved a bag of platelets (clotting agents). As soon as they hooked me up, my body went into shock. My temperature spiked up to 39.9 degrees Celsius.
My body went into rigor - with a combination of teeth-chattering shivers, locked jaw, and shallow gaspy breathing.
My mind went delirious. Four hours later I regained consciousness.
Had I fainted? Where did that truck come from? (The one which seemed had run me over).
Obviously during this process the nurses were flat out, dropping my temperature, calming the spasms. Shame I do not remember it, really, just the statistical record, and the hung-over feeling of having missed a significant "life event".

Today my platelets count was still dangerously low, and another transfusion was ordered. This time, however, I was pre-dosed with an anti-histamine "Phanergan". No problems at all.

Our bodies are amazingly sensitive. We ought continuously be in awe and wonder of them. I am learning to love my body, from a new perspective.

Denis
4th May 2006

News from Denis, via Zoe.

Hi all, it's Zoe here. Denis has asked me to do his blogging for him. He spent a large part of yesterday writing out the blog instructions (4 pages of them) and his blog entry for me. Something to keep him from going mad with boredom, as he is still feeling quite well.

Anyway, here's Denis:-

........
Yesterday the Howard government killed off the last dream of the Whitlam government - Medibank.

Of course it has changed over the years, and Medicare has partly replaced the original idea. But the "fear and loathing" school of politicians, who have made the decision, reveal themselves as shallow reactionaries with long memories.

Except, they can't abandon those memories when it comes to introducing a national "identity card" - albeit under a new name. Where is Peter Reith now? a footnote in history.

I shall have to cease listening to the news.

I am now on a "rest day" between the last of the chemotherapy treatments, and the "stem cell" re-transplant. This is the return to me of my own "stem cells" harvested from bone marrow last year - so it's called an "autologous transplant" - meaning back to the "same place".

So far I am feeling fine. Eventually this will change (for a while). But so far, so good. That's all I can say for now.

Love to all.

P.S. Missing Robertson

Denis
............

Zoe here again. Dad had his transplant today. It was an easy procedure, it took about 30 minutes. He has been moved to the High Dependancy Unit of the cancer ward. But he is still feeling ok(ish). A bit queezy and tired, but mainy bored and I think slightly apprehensious. The nursing staff in ward 14B are all wonderful, and he amususes himself by being cheeky to them all day long.
Denis and I will be in touch again soon.
Love Zoe.

Mottos of Life and death

Well, there are lots of slogans which appear appropriate to my personal situation at present. For a brief period, Was tempted to adopt the Nike slogan: "Just Do It!"

For purely personal reasons, and not out of fear of impending lawsuits from the "suits" at Nike, I have decided to stick with my own personal motto:

"Love to Grow: Grow to Love"

On Thursday I was told that my Tumour has not been totally killed by last year's Chemotherapy. I could "wait and see", or I can opt for the aggressive Chemotherapy treatment, the so-called "Industrial Strength Chemo". I have decided to do that, rather than allow the Lymphoma any chance to build its strength back up. I am feeling fit enough to face that course of treatment at present.

It will be short and sharp, with 8 consecutive days of treatment, followed by re-implantation (via a process analogous to a blood transfusion) of the stem cells which were harvested from my blood, late last year.

I know I shall get sick in the process, but if it is as brief as they say, I will be glad to get it over with. So, it is myself I am wanting to "grow", not my tumour.

On Saturday afternoon, my Mother, Nonie Wilson, died peacefully, at a nursing home in Canberra, with her husband, Steve close by her side. They both moved into a Nursing Home late last year, when Mum's condition deteriorated. In fact she had been hospitialised for a while, made a minor recovery, but she was at a stage when no amount of "home care" could provide for her needs. Hence the Nursing Home.

Mum will be buried on Thurday morning, following a Requiem Mass at St Thomas the Apostle Church, Boddington Crescent, Kambah, ACT.

My parents were married for 67 years. Pretty amazing. They were totally loyal to each other throughout their long life together - through good times and bad, in sickness and in health.

She Loved to grow: She grew to Love.