In what seems to be a long time since my last post, a lot of water has passed under a very small bridge. I came home on leave with the PTC drain in and went back to hospital so that I could have the stent inserted under a general anaesthetic. This procedure happened the day after I was readmitted and it turned out to be the most painful day of my life. What should have been a 45-60 minute procedure ended up being 3.5 hours long. When I woke up from the general anaesthetic I was in agony. I was in so much pain, I don’t even know how to describe it. The post anaesthetic care team did their best to give me analgesia sufficient to control my pain and they were unable to do this. Over the course of a day, I had 3 x 10mL boluses of Ketamine as well as going through > 2500mcg of Fentanyl. It was established that I needed an epidural but they also needed to establish that there was no other cause for this new pain so it was decided that I would have a CT scan to rule out complications. Fortunately there were no new or concerning features on CT. So I returned to the post-operative care unit and an epidural was placed. My experiences of ketamine boluses were also terrible; its auditory and sensory hallucinatory effects made me feel really trippy and I would not wish that sensation on anyone. Tuesday officially went down as the most painful day of my life. The following two days not much changed with my regimen for pain relief and a trial stop of the epidural occurred on Friday. Unfortunately that too was unsuccessful.
On Friday, Hannah and I, together with the palliative care and oncology teams, had some long and hard conversations around when would be appropriate to stop aggressively pursuing quantity of life. We agreed that whilst I would still happily be treated for small things, we were not going to pursue treatment that would forsake quality of life. My oncologist was of the opinion it was unrealistic to go back on chemotherapy as it was evident the cancer had stopped responding before the period of non-treatment and my overall fitness and health had deteriorated so rapidly over such a short period of time. Based on this we came to the decision that I am now for palliative care only. From now on, our decisions will be based on things that influence my quality rather than quantity of life. How short or long that is is anyone’s guess. My priority is to get home if I possibly can as that is where I want to be.
Going on in the background of all of this has been ongoing fevers that we have yet to identify a source for but whose guilt most likely lies in biliary sepsis. In order for me to get home, the first hurdle is to treat this successfully.
We always knew it would come to this at some stage, but perhaps not so soon. For some reason it always seemed to be a few months down the track. For whatever reason I have managed to outlive anyone’s predictions for the past five years. But now the chickens seem to have come home to roost.
I intend to keep blogging through this process as I document the journey to death and I hope and pray that it gives Elise something to read so that she can get a glimpse of who her father was.
Until next time…