Fish on Fridays

Now I'm fully aware that there are various connotations as to why its "Fish on Friday" , religious significance, secular traditions, diet/health considerations and maybe even some element of practicality as to the convenience of a trip to the local chippy after a long working week but my most recent "FoF" took place in a very different location and was probably the most welcomed and special I've had. Probably should rewind a little and explain a bit more as I'm aware that kinda makes no sense. As the many (few!) followers and readers of this blog will know I signed up for and took part in a "100 miles for Cancer Research UK " during October and was cracking along quite nicely having hit 50 ish miles around mid way through the month. I got myself a bit of Man-Flu which took me off for a few days but then was back out Saturday 15th October to add a few more miles to the total. About half way through what I'd aimed to do I was very breathless and had to turn back and go home. I put this down to the previous weeks chesty cough and thought no more about it really. Fast forward to Monday night and as I was preparing to get my work stuff together for a day at the HQ on the Tuesday I collapsed and passed out. Thanks to my eldest who woke me up, got me into the recovery position and kept me awake and chatting (kinda - I wasn't actually able to catch a breath at this point) I was mostly conscious when the paramedics arrived to whisk me off the hospital full face mask of pure oxygen, cannulas everywhere, drip in place and all "blues and twos" at 100 miles an hour. Straight into resus and scans, scans and more scans revealed I had suffered from a major Pulmonary Embolism (PE) which is essentially several very large blood clots that had decided to gate crash my lungs cutting off pretty much 90% of my breathing capacity (hence the black out and inability to breath) - without being over dramatic, it's kinda a big thing and can have the very worst outcome. A short version of a longer story is that I was advised that serious and immediate intervention was required and given what the Consultant fondly referred to as a "clot bomb" which came with a pretty impressive (terrifying) list of potential side effects. Fast forward another few hours and the magic drugs had done what was required and exploded and dispersed the worst of the clots allowing my lungs to actually start to operate somewhere near a normal range albeit with a massive boost of oxygen still being added in. And that was my Tuesday! Onto the ICU for a couple of days with gradually reducing oxygen quantities and gradual removal of some of the legion of drips and cannulas and by Thursday my body had fought back enough to get me onto a general ward (oxygen tank free and pretty much entirely unplugged form all the inserts - check the gallery below for the various stages. *warning* may be slightly uncomfortable to view for some but don't forget, it's done now so all good!) Now here's the thing about general wards in hospitals, many of the people on them aren't really that ill by this point and it''s a wonderful array of characters and people with various quirks and foibles.

To give you an idea what I mean, in the bed opposite me was "Captain Snore" - I'm fairly certain he must hold some kind of Guinness World Record for both length of single snores and also volume. I've sat next to industrial power diggers making less noise than that flucker....

Next to him I had the delight of someone who at 3am would randomly wake up, start singing and shout out "Kenya! Africa! Mombasa!" Now I've no idea if he'd ever left the boundaries of Sussex but he'd certainly let us all know his three favourite other places. Regularly. Noisily. Often.

And just to complete the "unholy triumvirate" in the bed at the end was "Father Farts" - again not just impressive in the duration of each, or the volume generated but also the total assault on my olfactory senses. Dirty, dirty stinky barsteward.

It'd seem strange to be sat there, recovering form a major trauma event and longing to be back on the sanctuary and isolation of the ICU but that's exactly how I felt by the early hours of Friday after almost exactly 12 minutes 46 seconds of undisturbed sleep. Although I did get my "Fish on Friday" that evening as per the title and start of this moidering! (and yes, peas and beans - why not?!) As I alluded to earlier, my body fought back fast and furious and I was able to be discharged on the Saturday. So less than five days in total after the PE, I was back home armed with twice daily injections of blood thinners and instructions to take it a bit easy and rest up for a while. That was a couple of weeks back now and glad to say I'm feeling much, much better, can actually draw a full breath without pain, have taken a few short walks to the comer shop and back and every day its a little less "breathy" and a bit more normal. The visits to the shop are actually required as I decided to revert right back to my childhood and am spending way more time and money than is necessary on Panini World Cup stickers.... (if anyone has either Lionel Messi or the Cameroonian #16 I'd be extremely grateful!) I know I've been lucky here and with the calm, quick reactions of my lad, the fast actions of my family calling in the medics, the amazing work of the hospital and the science and magic of the drugs and treatments, tremendous support from my employers, coupled with the lifestyle changes I've made over the past couple or three years I was able to fight back, bounce back and am well on the road to full recovery. So to conclude this update, a massive thank you to all my family, colleagues and friends for your support (and sorry to give you the scare) a huge shout out to our incredible NHS, and a final little request for any last few dollars as although I didn't quite get the "100 miles" done by the end of October I will carry on adding so mileage but think I've got a reasonably valid excuse as to my late finish! (Link here: ) Selection of pictures below which are probably not in chronological order, including a few of the (actually pretty decent) hospital dinners. I know, I know, any excuse for #FoodPorn even though its more of a 50p Razzle than a £4.95 Penthouse. (apparently - no idea myself....) Much love and heartfelt thanks to everyone xx