This week kept me on my toes. I had my first bath in a long time… this year in fact. Now, I know it sounds like I have not been bathing – I assure you I have – however I had to take extreme care not to get the tunnel-line that was implanted in my neck, wet. I certainly could not immerse it in water so was restricted to partial showers and washing at the sink. Now the line is gone and the wound has healed I can finally take a dip. I enjoyed it a lot and was able to relax properly. With junior back at school and Kerry working I have been at a bit of a loose end, but I have been instructed to do at least half an hour of light exercise a day. As I need no excuse to go outside I have been gently walking around some of my old running routes, enjoyed the views of the city that are just a short walk from my front door. During the week these places also tend to be deserted so there is little chance of bumping into the great unwashed. I can go at my own pace, rest whenever I need and being outside makes me very happy. Relaxation has been much needed as this week I experienced my first recovery hiccup.
I went for a pee (as I do every half-a-sodding-hour) and was met with a toilet bowl full of blood. I was horrified. Post-op I was given a list of things that, if they were to occur, would require immediate admission to hospital. This was high on the list. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to clamp on, grab a pot and take a sample. Within about 15 minutes, having spoken to the transplant team, I was sat in a treatment room at University Hospital Stoke. We are fortunate to live just a short drive from the hospital and Kerry made light work of the local traffic. The doctor was relieved that I looked and felt well but was concerned by the sample. She proceeded to quiz me on my recent activities. I had no pain or discomfort, no fever or signs of infection, I had not been lifting anything or working out, bending over excessively, not jogging/running or jumping about. Neither had I been having sex with anyone or ‘anything’ over-enthusiastically (yes, she asked)! In fact, I felt better than I had done in years. They took bloods and sent them off for tests, along with my sample.
I was then wheeled off to A&E for an ultrasound. The ultrasound came back NOD – No Abnormality Detected. The blood flow to the new kidney was excellent, the stent between the kidney and bladder was still in place (there was concern it could have slipped out). There were no signs of fissures or tears, no visible signs of bleeding and my bladder was filling up with urine. From that perspective it was a healthy transplant. I was returned to the ward where I drank some more water. I was relieved by the result of the scan but still extremely anxious. The blood must have come from somewhere. I was or had been bleeding internally and all the worst-case scenarios whirled through my mind.
By this point had had drunk a liter and half of water and needed to pee again. Mercifully there was no blood. The relief I felt was HUGE. I took another sample and presented it to the doctor who was equally relieved but also baffled by the initial presence of so much blood. Medically speaking, there was no obvious explanation for it. My blood results had also come back as normal and my inflammation markers were negative. This also suggested that I did not have an infection or an injury. The conclusion she ultimately came to was that my stent had simply been in too long and had irritated the lining of my bladder. They are supposed to come out after 6 weeks but mine is still in place after 8 weeks (due to a Covid19-related backlog). The doctor was happy to chalk the incident up to experience and send me home with instructions not to cross my legs while sitting and to come back immediately if any more blood appeared. Blood in the urine is rare, but not unprecedented, however patients that have no issues whatsoever are very rare indeed. I had unceremoniously excused myself from that exclusive club.
I was also warned that this is a sign of things to come. The transplant is complex surgery and the treatment regime heavy and sometimes arduous. Complications are very common. This first shock unnerved me a lot but has, if anything, made me even more conscious of the need for self care. I was reminded by my friend and fellow Transplant recipient Helen that rest is critically important at this stage and that I am still in the very early stages. I have been saying as much to my coaching subjects for years; rest is a critical part of a healthy lifestyle. As runners we are generally terrible at staying still – especially when we’re unfit to run – and practicing what we preach. Despite feeling great I am not out of the woods yet, so gently does it. I will continue to walk as instructed but will not be running for a little while yet. A good friend has gifted me a place in the Virtual Ipstones 5 (a local and popular event) next weekend and I will be quietly walking a route of my choice with Kerry and getting my name in the results. I will (probably) be last and it will be an exercise in discipline to walk slowly but, as I always say, everyone who crosses the finish line is a winner.
#R24TRC 