But what actually is it?

So where were we? Oh yes, the decision had been made that I was going to have Chemosaturation treatment and so on the 4th August 2024 on a blistering hot day (I only remember it as a hot day as we didn’t have very many of them this summer) me and Mr Me-Myself-And-Eye headed down to Southampton. Now I know that it is obvious but flipping heck it is a long way from Leeds. Nearly six hours of anticipation of what was to come, stress as we met slow traffic after slow traffic and Mr Me-Myself-And-Eye bleating on about MPG and what car he would like to buy if he could. (yawn)

We arrived at the Spire hospital, which is strangly nestled in a housing estate behind the HUGE Southampton General hospital, to an eerily quiet car park. We were one of three cars there and walking in to the hospital it felt empty, very different to the hustle and bustle of the Leeds General Infirmary and St James’s Hospital (incidentally, does anyone remember the programme ‘Jimmy’s’ that was on in the 90’s that followed the staff at St James’s Hospital? It was a cracking show, I used to watch it with my mum and we loved it!) We checked in almost like we were checking into a hotel but with more empathy behind the eyes of the receptionist and met some of the staff (my Clinical Nurse Specialist Vicky even popped in to see me on her day off which was so lovely – she is an absolute legend btw) My arms then became a pin cushion for the unbelievable amount of bloods that they had to take for testing, but luckily for me I have ‘superb veins’ really great for sticking sharp needles in to repeatedly… yey…. go me….! The rest of the day was pretty boring really, I escaped the ward for a quick walk around the block and then filled the rest of it watching the Olympics. Mr Me-Myself-And-Eye was kicked out at 2030 and I fell into very restless sleep not helped by the MOST uncomfortable pillows ever (note to self, take own pillow next time.)

I was woken up by a very spritely nurse at 0530 taking my observations and informing me that I was 3rd on the list that day which meant a 1300 start. Once the nurse had gone, I took my opportunity and snuck out for another little power walk around the block. I literally felt like James Bond as I was sneaking out, short of a commando roll and a dinner jacket, I practically was… and then it was back to waiting and watching the Olympics punctuated with Mr Me-Myself-And-Eye showing me random pictures of lampshades that he liked (we do have a bedroom reno underway so maybe not that random!) My Anaesthetist and Consultant came to visit me to chat through the procedure (forever know as Mr Laid Back and Mr Relaxed – I mean, I think I am glad that they both were so chilled, it might not have filled me with much confidence had they been an anxious mess saying things like ‘I’m 85% sure that the procedure will go ok…’) and then it was time to walk to the operating theatre, clutching the back of my hospital gown together incase my arse decided to escape through the gap (why do the hospital gowns never quite fit across your behind?!)

To be honest, I don’t remember much more after that, I had to lay down on a very small bed with what looked like a huge X-ray machine overhead and about a zillion people busy sticking needles into me and asking me what I did for a job but before I could reply with a lengthy answer about how I championed communities and encouraged businesses and Philanthropists to support local charities I was out of it (lucky escape for them I think!)

So here we go with the science bit (caveat, no one is shocked to hear that I am neither a Scientist or a Doctor so bare with..) Two catheters are inserted into the two central veins in your groin (one either side) and another one is inserted into the right side of your neck. Through the power of magic they isolate the liver from the rest of the organs (a bit like sending it for detention) and pump the Chemosat through one of groin catheters to nuke the f*** out of the tumours for a period of time and then your blood comes out of the catheter in your neck and goes into a super cleaning machine (think a VAX carpet cleaner) which takes all of the subsidiary chemo out of the blood which is then pumped back into you leaving the chemo behind (like all of the dirt after you have washed your carpets with the VAX) The whole process takes about 4 hours I think. I have added a handy picture of the process below:

After the procedure I came round in the recovery room with some very lovely nurses using my Sunday name (Mrs Corne) but I didn’t have the energy to call out indigently that I was indeed a Ms NOT a Mrs. I must have stayed there for about 2 hours whilst they checked my bloods and then took out the catheters (I won’t go into the details of the process but it was terribly unpleasant and painful) and then I was wheeled back to my room (no arse hanging out in the way back!) to stay flat on my back for 12 hours.

Once back in my room and delighted that the procedure was over, I informed Mr Myself-And-Eye that all I wanted to do was watch the Olympic track cycling as it was what I had been looking forward to all Olympics so far. Diligently he put it on, turned to me to ask me a question and saw that I was completely out for the count, sparko, and didn’t come back around until after the cycling was over.

The next few days were a bit of a blur really, lots more bloods taken, lots of injections, feeling incredibly sick, very low blood pressure which made the sickness worse, a small internal bleed at one of the catheter sites and generally feeling pretty unwell. On the 2nd day after the procedure I made it up to shuffle around the ward – nothing that I could add to my Strava streak unfortunately and both Mr Laid Back and Mr Relaxed came to see me to say that the procedure had gone as expected and they were happy. All that I need to do now was to get home and recover, get myself back to fitness ready for the next round in 6 weeks.