I would like to start by telling you a bit about myself. I am 57 years old, married and have two children, Steven, aged 21 and Stacey, aged 18. I live in the North West; a town called Accrington, well known for its football team “Accrington Stanley”. My particular interests include the Spanish language, keeping fit by kickboxing twice a week and by cycling to work. I have worked in the textile industry for a number of years, cycling a round trip of 10 miles, in all weathers, on a daily basis.
It all started in early October 2005; I had been asked by the company director if I would travel to Sri Lanka to sort out a few problems they had at the factory out there. The company had another factory in Egypt which I had visited a few times for similar reasons so I welcomed the opportunity despite this meaning some more injections for the trip.
So, off I went to see the nurse. Whilst there, I told her that I had had a few nose bleeds whilst cycling to work even though I had thought nothing of it at the time. She checked my blood pressure which was okay and told me that if it carried on to let the doctor know. I had to return to the surgery a week later for another injection and I mentioned to the doctor that I was still getting nose bleeds whilst cycling. She had a look at my nose and thought it could be a weak blood vessel but decided to take a blood sample to be on the safe side. This was done early Thursday morning, 6th October 2005 and then I cycled back to work.
It was then that things started to go wrong. It was late afternoon that same day when my doctor called me and told me there was some kind of abnormality with my blood test and that I should make my way home and wait for a telephone call for admission to Blackburn Infirmary. I got a call about 7.30 p.m. that night and made my way to the hospital for some more blood tests and a chest x-ray. I was kept in over night but did not sleep much. Early Friday morning the head of haematology came to see me. The look on her face told it all. The curtains were drawn around my bed and she said she had some bad news to tell me. I had a form of leukaemia.
I couldn’t hold back the tears, even my nose started to bleed – it was a real shock! She told me she had arranged for me to be transferred to Christies in Manchester as soon as possible because my white cell count was so high. She commented that she didn’t know how I was walking around, let alone cycling and going kickboxing.
No-one else knew the situation so a nurse telephoned my wife in the hope that she might get to the hospital before I was taken to Manchester. My wife arrived just in time to find out what was wrong and was obviously as distressed as I was. Once back home, I think she must have searched every web site she could find about leukaemia.
On arrival at Christies, I was told that my diagnosis was Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia and my blood count was haemoglobin 9.2, white cells 478.2, platelets 182. Although much of this was too much to take in at the time, they apparently had to get my white cell count down as quickly as possible. I was on a machine to lower my white cell count for about three hours and then they took a blood sample. I was told that I would be staying in the A.L.U for a few days before I was shown to my room. They needed to take a bone marrow sample and said it may be a bit painful. This brought to mind two quotes from my kickboxing instructor “No pain no gain” and “Pain is just fear leaving the body” which I think the doctor wrote on my case notes. It wasn’t too painful, apart from them having to chip a small part from the bone. At about 9.30 p.m. on Friday night, they decided to put me back on the machine to lower my blood count some more and by this time I was told to drink as much fluid as possible to flush out my system.
Two doctors come in to see me to explain my situation. They thought that they would be able to control the leukaemia by oral medication. I was too tried to take it all in, but was still unable to get much sleep that night.
It was weekend by now and only the on-call doctors were on duty. They came to see how I was getting on and asked whether I had any questions and all I could think of at that time was getting home. News of this illness doesn’t just affect your body it also plays on your mind – would I be able to lead a normal life; could it be passed on to my children?
Thankfully, I was only in Christies for about six days so the medication seemed to be working. Whilst in hospital, I was asked if I would participate in a drugs’ trial called SPIRIT. I read through all the information and signed up for the trial, hoping this would work for me and might improve the treatment for someone else in years to come. I was put on a drug called Glivec, taking 400 mgs daily and my condition being monitored by regular visits to the out-patient department. The dosage changed a few times, going up from 400 mgs to 600 mgs and then back to 400 mgs and was finally settled on 800 mgs. Fortunately, I have not had many side-effects.
I wanted to return to work as soon as possible and lead as normal a life as possible, but it took about eight weeks. During these eight weeks at home, I wanted to know just what I would be able to do, so out came the bike, initially just for short distances, working up to about 20 miles one day when I took a wrong turning on my route! I also wanted to get back to kickboxing, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope with 1 hour 30 minutes, a normal class. My son asked if I would be able to use the gym during the day and I was given a key to go down. Doing press ups and punching a bag was hard at first but I knew I had to push myself. Perhaps it was the name of the club which drove me on “Fit to Fight Kickboxing Club”, with me hitting the bags as if I was knocking out white cells.
I did go down one Thursday night but just to watch. The only comments I got were “we thought you were ill but you don’t look ill” which is probably understandable as being the type of illness it often doesn’t physically show.
Once back at work, doing a normal day’s work, I felt great although it did take a bit longer to cycle there at first. I still have regular appointments at Christies to monitor my condition and this is how I heard about Leukaemia care. I also visit their website and last year I attended the conference in Manchester, which was of great interest; talking to people about how they have coped with their situation.
My only advice to anyone in a similar situation would be to look on the positive side, be strong and a problem shared is a problem solved.
I would like to thank all the staff at Blackburn Infirmary for their quick diagnosis and response, with special mention to a nurse called Amanda, who helped both me and my wife through the very difficult initial period. Also, to all the staff at Christies for their complete dedication.
David Barnes
Accrington |
