Back to the Blue Curtains

Ordinarily, these paper curtains in the ER department of the Foothills Medical Centre wouldn't be symbols of hope. But ending up here in the middle of the night, after a mere three-and-a-half hour wait, meant that the fluid retention that was swelling my body and compromising my breathing would finally be dealt with.

It began as a reaction to one of the drugs in my chemotherapy treatment. But removing that ingredient from the cocktail, and doubling down on my diuretics, didn't prevent it from getting worse. And worse. My hematologist, who administers my treatments, seemed unconcerned. But my family doctor, in a phone consultation, grew alarmed enough to urge me to show up at ER and find out what was going on.

Plenty, it turned out. Including kidney failure. The cardiac team took over my care here and, amidst much poking and pricking, now have things headed in the right direction. But nothing's simple or straightforward with this amyloidosis diagnosis. It remains unclear whether the swelling has had to do with the chemotherapy, or with the advance of the disease itself. And every new exploration requires a deep dive to find out, requiring all the poking and pricking.

The larger story is unfolding over on Substack, where I've serialized what's happened so far in a journal I'm calling "Sick to Death." (This link will take you there, where you can subscribe for free: https://substack.com/@brianpearson2). But for the moment I remain in hospital where I limp toward my new "normal." Thanks so much for your love and support.