CHANGE OF LIFE NOT END OF LIFE

Sunday 16th May 2010 started as all previous Sundays, until later in the morning or early afternoon when I had a sudden overwhelming sense of tiredness and exhaustion, a feeling that I had never before had.  It was an extraordinary event in my life, which worried Margaret from the moment, I said, “I need to lay down and rest” and did so on our couch.

At the time I thought my sudden loss of energy and tiredness was due to all the events we had been through with David’s diagnosis and death, which were catching up with me.  I had never had any time to grieve for him from his death in January 2010 up to that moment and never have done.

During one of our conversations when Margaret was checking on how I was feeling, she noticed some yellow gunge in the bottom corner of my right eye next to my nose.  I dismissed it as being nothing, as it had been a recurring feature for some time.  On reflection, I do wonder, if it could have been an indicator of the growth of my brain tumour.

Having spent most of the day laid out, snoozing or sleeping, we went to bed as usual, and I slept well.

The following day, I got up feeling perfectly fine, prepared my sports bag for playing my Monday game of Five-a-side football with the lads.  I drove us to Salford Quays, where we had our working day breakfasts at our favourite café, each bought freshly made sandwiches, walked Margaret to her office block, kissed and said goodbye to each other.  I then drove to Trafford Town Hall and started my working day as normal.

Work commenced as usual through to 2.00 pm, when I had a sudden severe headache.  This was another most unusual event for me, I never suffered from headaches, not even when suffering from a hangover and there had been plenty of those in the past.

I continued working as best as I could until, I felt the need to go out and get some fresh air, hoping it would clear my head.  Had a walk around the car park and gardens but felt no better.  As I walked through the main Town Hall public entrance, I went to the vending machine and bought a bottle of water.  Thinking it might help my headache if I held the cooled bottle against my head.

When I returned to the office and desk, a colleague and friend, noticed that I was holding the bottle against my head and asked, “if I was alright?”  I replied “No, I had a bad headache”, and she offered me 2 paracetamol tablets, which I gratefully accepted, took them, but felt no better.

Sometime later, my headache included a sharp pain in my right eye.  My colleagues became concerned and suggested that if I wasn’t well, I should go home, which I was reluctant to do, as I needed to pick Margaret up after work.  So, I decided to stay.  This conversation made me realise that I should phone Margaret and inform her that I wasn’t feeling well, would be finishing work early, wouldn’t be playing football that night and picking her up to go home.

During the call we agreed that I would pick her up at 4.00 pm.  I finished work before 4:00 pm and drove to Salford Quays, despite the headache and pain in my right eye, I could still drive and thought I was doing alright. But when I drove into the car park outside her building and parked up.  Someone in Margaret’s office noticed that I bumped into the kerb, which I had no recollection of doing.

As soon as Margaret was in the car, she was concerned and asked me some questions and then I drove off, following our usual route home.  Again, I thought my driving was ok, but part way up Trafford Road, to the Junction 3 roundabout of the M602.   Margaret insisted that we go straight to the nearest hospital, which was Salford Royal. I just wanted to go home, but eventually acquiesced, having turned left at the roundabout onto Eccles New Road to take us to the hospital. 

A short distance from the turn onto the road, Margaret told me to stop the car, as I had just driven through a red light.  I pulled over and then she probably then did the bravest thing she has done in her life. We swapped places in a car Margaret had never driven before which, she was unfamiliar with.  Having adjusted the seat, etc. she then set off, whilst I sat beside her still in a great deal of pain and feeling pissed off that I wouldn’t be playing 5-a-side that night.  Margaret did tell me later on, that her legs wouldn’t stop shaking during the drive to the hospital.

I don’t remember much regarding the journey to Salford Royal or our arrival at A&E.

What I do remember, is thinking that I was being extremely rude, and saying so to the A&E Doctor who saw me, as I kept my head on the desk, trying to cool it down during our conversations.  I don’t know his name and am exceedingly grateful to him for his quick diagnosis. He stated that my symptoms could be due to three possible outcomes, a virus, brain tumour, the third option, I don’t remember.  But he was spot on regarding the possibility that they were the signs of a brain tumour and arranged for me to have an immediate scan.

While we were waiting for my scan, I started to feel sick, having informed Margaret, who tried to get something for me to be sick in.  I spotted one of the waste bins, with a bar at the bottom of it, which when depressed will open the lid.  As the vomiting started, I rushed to it and pressed the bar with my foot.  Nothing happened and I became confused as I couldn’t understand why not, tried to concentrate and in my mind’s eye, could see my foot pressing the bar, but the lid still failed to open. Consequently, I was now throwing up over the lid, which was spilling over onto the floor, then tried to open the lid with my hands, but was unable to do so.  

I then became upset as I felt that I must clean up the mess I was creating. I couldn’t make this mess without cleaning it up.  At the same time, I kept asking myself, where is all this bile coming from?  What I ate at lunch didn’t equate to the amount of vomiting that was taking place, was totally confused about everything that was happening with a deep sense of no longer being in control of my body.