Tag Archives: IBD

IBD Clichés

A while ago I was asked to come up with a list of things that you shouldn’t say to someone with IBD. I turned to SoMe and asked fellow Crohn’s and UC patients what sort of crass remarks they had been subject to (together with a few explanatory comments in italics).

Here’s the list. I’ve grouped it into categories. I’m sure many of these will ring a bell…….

What’s you favourite? I’ve marked mine in red text

Category Remark
Cured Oh I knew somone who had that. I’ll ask how they got rid of it .
Cured So, are you all better now then?
Diet You should stop eating bread/dairy/processed foods then you’ll feel fine
Diet Stop eating takeaways and you’ll be fine
Diet Can’t you just change your diet? Or eat lots of fruit and veg as they are ‘good’ for you
Diet It can be cured through diet
Diet Just eat fruit and veg
Diet Have you tried aloe Vera/juice plus etc
Diet All you need is a good multi vitamin and exercise
Diet Juice plus can cure that
Diet You just need to eat better and you’ll be fine
Diet Have you tried gluten free that will cure you
Diet My aunt was cured from terminal cancer by eating cabbage only (glutenfree/dairyfree/no aspartame/aloe vera etc) You should try it!
Diet Besides BAM, I have gastroparesis. I am 5′ 6″ and 115 pounds and thin. I don’t gain weight but also have trouble eating. People tell me to eat a cheeseburger or how lucky I am to not have to diet. I sure don’t feel lucky.
Diet Maybe you should try cutting out “A / B & C” from your diet and then you’ll be fine
Diet If you start eating “X, Y & Z” it’ll make it go away.
Don’t understand Well aren’t you well now you have had surgery, its gone hasnt it??  If only heh?
Don’t understand When you can’t fulfill a plan and hear “You were fine yesterday”. When in reality you weren’t ever fine 
Don’t understand You can’t be that ill, you were ok yesterday’
Don’t Understand Oh you are still ill? Some people dont understand what chronic means!!
Don’t Understand You need to take better care of yourself
Don’t Understand So what are the doctors doing to get you better. There must be something to cure it. B
Don’t Understand I was asked by my 2 sisters who are Nurses was it something I made up !!!!
Don’t Understand It’s caused by getting upset? Try not getting upset then you’ll be fine. Employment Agency.
Drugs Once you pop some pills you will be ok
Drugs I swear you’re always ill, maybe you should stop taking all that medication’
Fatigue Take a 20 minute nap ….. you won’t be tired then!
Fatigue You’re not tired your lazy, you’d feel better if you did more exercise
Fatigue Why are you so tired! X
Fatigue Other people get tired and they just have to get on with it
Misc Oh a friend of mine had something like that
God God cured me of crohns and he’ll heal you too if you ask
I Know How You Feel I go quite alot when I have (certain food item) too, so I know how you feel
I Know How You Feel “I know how you feel” – you don’t
I Know How You Feel I get that sometimes
IBS Oh it’s the same as IBS isn’t it
IBS I’ve got IBS, completely know how you feel
IBS Yes I completely understand your pain I have IBS
IBS I’ve had IBS too. You just need to eat lots of fibre
IBS I understand, I have IBS
IBS Oh I know how you feel I have IBS (a nurse said this to me)
IBS It’s your diet! I have IBS too
IBS I understand, I have IBS… I have BAM and Crohns…. So no, you don’t.
IBS “I have IBS I understand”. Or, when you explain what you have and they say “oh just like IBS”
IBS So basically it’s just IBS
Misc Is there any point asking you to come out, you always cancel anyway
Misc You’d be better to have it all taken out and have a stoma
WC What took you so long in the toilet
WC That toilet is only for the disabled.
WC What are you doing in there. ?????
WC Do you just shit all the time then?
WC The one I’ve got the most is “does that mean you shit yourself all the time?” Or whenever there is a bad smell being asked if it was me
Weight Shouldn’t you be able to lose weight fast then
Weight Wish I could eat as much as you…..often said to me as I need 4000 calories a day just to maintain my weight
Weight I get ‘you’re so lucky to eat and not put weight on’ because I love looking like a walking skeleton!
Weight You’ve lost some weight haven’t you.
Weight Are you pregnant one may say? No, just on steroids
Weight Wow I’m surprised your not 7stones the amount of time you spend in the bathroom..:..
Weight “I thought people with your condition were supposed to be thin” (Am a fat crohnie )I was told by an IBD nurse, don’t worry, it will soon go when you have a flare up. Not helpful! I’d rather not have the flare up lol
Weight Is Crohn’s disease something I can catch cause I’d love to lose the weight as fast as you done?
Weight Aren’t you meant to lose weight with Crohns….? My Dr even said I would be skinny if I had it before my diagnosis
Weight You need to stop losing weight now, you look anorexic….
Weight Aren’t you supposed to be thin with crohns (not worth explaining about steroids)
Weight As someone who has never lost weight unless really ill and in hospital- you can’t have Crohn’s you’re not skinny enough.
Weight You’re too big to have a bowel condition.” As if you have to be thin to have one.
Weight You’re too fat to use the toilet that many times a day
You Don’t Look Ill Your the healthiest sick person ive seen !
You Don’t Look Ill You can’t be in that much pain, you don’t act like it
You Don’t Look Ill You look well! My gastro consultant even said this then qualified it by saying well I know things are different on the inside!
You Don’t Look Ill You don’t look ill, my response “you don’t look like an idiot but looks can be deceiving!”

In Case of Emergency

A few months back I ended up in our local A&E (ER) Department as I had turned yellow. The first person I saw was the triage nurse who asked me lots of questions about health conditions, history  and medications. When we had finished running through the various ailments she complimented me on my knowledge but it struck me that it would have been a different story if I had been admitted unconscious or in a confused state.

Next I saw an A&E Registrar. What would he have concluded if I had been unable to fill in the details? He would have been confronted with a patient with a large scar up the midline and an appendectomy incision. He wouldn’t have been aware why the large scar was there and would have assumed my appendix had been taken out. He would be unaware that I had Crohn’s disease, that there were additional veins growing in my esophagus (varices), that my spleen was enarged or that my platelets would show up around 60, rather than 150+. Valuable time could have been lost trying to solve the wrong problems.

What actually happened it that I handed him a copy of a chart I had drawn up showing the key events in my medical history over the last 7 years. The doctor thanked me and used it as the basis for the questions he then asked.  He then added it to my medical notes. Here’s the diagram :

In the ideal world the NHS would have a comprehensive medical record for each patient, held on a central system, that could be accessed by any doctor when required. A patient’s unique identifier, probably their NHS number, could be used as the reference code. The NHS tried to implement such as system (NpFIT). It didn’t work and there’s a link to the 2014 Report at the bottom of this post.

There are, of course, the likes of SOS Talisman bracelets which have some very basic information engraved on or contained within them. Then there are several subscription services which will hold your medical information and can then be accessed via a unique code you wear on a bracelet or dog tag, but these all appear to be based in the US.  What I wanted was a standalone device that would be easily wearable and accessible. A bracelet with built-in USB memory seemed to be the ideal solution. The next challenge would be how to record the information.

I searched to see if there was a proposed standard data set for NHS use but could find nothing that displayed more than the most basic data. Certainly nothing that was suitable for a patient with long term, multiple conditions. There was nothing for it but to produce my own format. I settled upon two documents – i) a simple, overall summary plus ii) a very detailed table that recorded each appointment/follow-up letter; each procedure undergone and associated report; and any other relevant items such as emails.

Key Medical Details (with links)

I had already obtained hard copies of all the medical records from the three health authorities I have been treated under and had started the task of entering the relevant sections onto a computer. The thought of entering 40 years worth of notes from scratch would have been just too daunting.

The detail (geeky) bit : initially the bulk of the data was put into a spreadsheet (Excel) using a combination of a simple scanner and text recognition software. As the task neared completion it made sense to convert from Excel to Word as this would allow me to save the document as an html file that could be read by any web browser. The external documents (reports, emails) were scanned or saved as either jpg or pdf files and then linked back to the main document.

Detailed Medical Record

Job done. I can now wear all the relevant my medical details on a simple, universally accessible wristband, rather like a tortoise carrying everything with them wherever they go.

USB Bracelet

There are issues that I haven’t addressed :

Privacy – I don’t have any issues with allowing access to my medical records confidential (if I did I wouldn’t write a blog) but I can understand that some patients would want some type of password or lock on the files.

Security – does an NHS computer allow the reading of an external USB stick or is access restricted to protect from viruses etc?

Since originally publishing this post a fellow patient suggested using a QR code to link to a remotely held copy of relevant medical details. The QR could be engraved on a pendant or bracelet but would it be obvious to medical staff how to use it? How about a QR tattoo in a prominent position? More thinking to be done…..

The 2014 Report on NpFIT failure :

*NpFIT – this proposal has been around for several years but proved impossible to implement. The link below will take you to the report outlining why the £6billion project failed.”

https://www.cl.cam.ac.uk/~rja14/Papers/npfit-mpp-2014-case-history.pdf

 

 

 

Now or Later?

Are you a “Now” or “Later” person? When you’ve undergone some test or maybe an MRI scan do you prefer to get the result/report as soon as it is available or do you prefer to wait until you see your consultant?

I’m definitely the former. I like to know what could lie ahead so that I can come to terms with the worst scenario and then, if reality is actually not as bad, result!

When it’s something like a calprotectin test then it’s simple to compare the new value to previous ones and identify the trend. (I dropped a sample into the Path Lab for analysis just before Christmas and should be able to get the result soon).

The problem comes when you read a report that is well beyond one’s own limited medical knowledge or experience. I had such a report arrive in the post last week. The MRI scan itself was carried out at the end of last July but if you’ve read my previous couple of posts you’ll see that there was an apparent conflict between it and a subsequent colonoscopy. I had asked my consultant to send me through the text and he duly obliged.

Before we go any further here it is :

“MRI Small bowel study :

Comparison is made with the previous MR in April 2012. Previous ileocolic resection again noted.

There is stricturing seen in the proximal and distal sigmoid colon as before, with relative sparing ol the midsigmoid colon. As before there are adhesions between the rectosigmoid, proximal sigmoid and the dome of the bladder which is tented upwards and slightly thickened, suggestive of developing colocolonic and colovesical fistula formation. No intravesical gas is however seen at present. There is moderate prestenotic dilatation with the descending colon measuring 6.1 cm in diameter

As before a further stricture is seen in the proximal transverse colon measuring 10 cm in length, with slightly less mural thickening than before. Moderate prestenotic dilatation of 4.8 cm is seen. There is further stricture seen in the ascending colon over a length of 5 cm. Mild mural thickening and oedema is noted in the caecum and distal 5cm of the terminal ileum as previously.

The small bowel loops are suboptimally distended, with the impression of adhesions between the small bowel loops and anterior abdominal wall. No definite further strictures or active small bowel disease is seen. Mild splenomegaly is demonstrated at 15 cm as before There is a mild atrophy of the pancreas. Gallstones noted within a slightly thickened gallbladder as previously. Solid organs otherwise unremarkable.

No intra-abdominal collections. Small trace of fluid within the pelvis.

Conclusion: Appearances are similar to previously with stricturing seen within the colon, associated prestenotic dilatation, and evidence of penetrating disease as before.”

I mentioned this to another IBD patient to which they replied :

“This is exactly the reason why I don’t like getting copies of blood results or test reports as it always throws up questions that would not otherwise be there (particularly if you are feeling well). And it creates a feeling of unwelcome uncertainty when there is not a medical person to explain it….”

I can understand this reasoning and, having read the above I’m starting to think that maybe that’s the way forward.

There are four words in particular make me wonder what lies ahead – “stricture”, “fistula”, “adhesions” and “penetrating”. I’ve experienced them all before and it ended up with surgery. If I need further episodes under the knife then it’s not really a surprise. My consultant quotes the average time between surgeries for Crohn’s patients as 10 years. I’ve reached six and a half from the ileostomy, but before then (perforated bowel) it was 30 years.

Surgeon’s drawing of surgery – October 2010

Next time I see my consultant it should be an interesting conversation. How much of the report could have been expected given my past history? Are there any pointers to the progression/reawakening of Crohn’s disease? What next? Does it point to surgery sooner rather than later?

Once I have my latest calprotectin results back then I must get a date for that next appointment……

Until next time

 

Next steps

This is the follow-up post to “Where do we go from here?” posted on 3rd December 2016. (…and my record for future reference….)

Gastro Appointment – Guy’s Hospital 12th December 2016

As the date for the appointment drew closer my stress level increased. Not from the potential medical implications (though some might doubt this!) but the pure logistics of getting to London by 10:20am. It shouldn’t be a problem until you realise we have to rely on Southern Rail actually running a train. As it turned out my train was exactly on time but afterwards there were no more heading to London for 2 hours.

Having arrived at Guy’s Hospital with five minutes to spare I was greeted by a nurse who explained that the clinic was running 45 minutes late. I asked her to put a note on my file that I wanted to see my usual consultant (the top man). The wait increased to just over an hour when I heard my consultant calling my name. TIme to see if there were some answers. I produced my list of questions/comments.

We started out by discussing the outcome of the MDM. Had they been able to reconcile the apparent contradiction between the colonoscopy results and the MRI scan? No, they were at a loss to explain the differences.

The MRI report noted a 100mm stricture in the transverse colon and another in the ascending colon. Neither had been apparent from the scoping. The scan also showed adhesions, one of which was between  intestine and bladder. This could potentially lead to a fistula developing between the two. The tell tale sign would be gas when passing urine. That was a new one on me and certainly not something I had experienced so far.

The word that worried me was “fistula” but he pointed out that it was a possibility not a certainty.

The options left were to repeat the colonoscopy, or the MRI scan, but a barium enema, which is a test designed to look at the colon, would be preferable. (Not sure for whom. I still remember the last one over 30 years ago.) Rather than going straight to another procedure he suggested that we carry out a calprotectin test and if the result was the same or higher than last time (512) then it would be time to start practicising the buttock clench, so vital for the enema.

He asked how I felt generally. My answer was “very well” apart from every 10 days or so getting an upset stomach for half a day then back to normal. There was also an incident when I seemed to be leaking fresh blood but it only lasted a day and I concluded it was purely mechanical, maybe a burst blood vessel. He agreed with my conclusion.

I explained that I was keen to remain drug free having been taking no Crohn’s medication since 2010 (post-ileostomy). Was that an option with mild inflammation? Yes. The aim would be to start treatment early enough, to avoid surgery, should the inflammation worsen. (The knife is always a threat though). In line with my aim of not taking any new drugs I hadn’t been to see my GP about starting Questran for Bile Acid Malabsorption. I would remain on just Loperamide and adjust the dosage accordingly.

The one question I forgot to ask was “Does my reaction to Azathioprine (bone marrow suppression) suggest that some of other common drugs may be unsuitable?” That will have to wait for the next appointment.

I would be having my annual upper GI endoscopy at St.Thomas’ the following week and was wondering if we should also be monitoring my liver for stiffening (PSC). He said I should ask the endoscopist as it was their specialist area. The visit would also give me a chance to drop off the calprotectin sample to the path lab. I would then need to email my consultant in mid-January to get the results. Fingers crossed for <512. Clench.

At the end of the appointment I mentioned that I had eliminated a major element of stress by no longer commuting to London and have virtually retired. As I now had time in my hands I would be keen to do something for the IBD Community.

What is so nice about these appointments is that you never feel rushed. Every question gets a considered answer and all decisions are made jointly. Excellent.

After the appointment it was off to have lunch with a fellow IBD sufferer and then on to meet up with an old colleague for a coffee before attempting to get a train home.

Donald, no not THAT one

Do you have a “quotation that inspires you”? The one I would choose is probably not an obvious one for a health blog. You might have been expecting me to have trawled through the “inspirational” websites to find some relevant, life affirming words. I hope you’re not disappointed….

Here goes. Over to that well known US philosopher, Donald Rumsfeld. It’s the quote he was ridiculed for it at the time, unfairly in my opinion, as it makes perfect sense. In case you don’t remember what he said :

“…as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns- the ones we don’t know we don’t know.”

Bear with me, it will become clear. To illustrate the point I’m using one of my favourite subjects – bile acid malabsorption (BAM). Maybe “favourite” isn’t the right description, make that “a subject I have felt the need to write about several times before”. There’s barely a day goes by when I don’t see a comment, on one of the IBD or BAM forums, from someone who has just been diagnosed with BAM and many times the post goes on to say that their doctor had never heard of the condition before. That’s the first hurdle to overcome.

Walk up to St.Thomas' from Waterloo
St.Thomas’ Hospital, Westminster

I am a fellow sufferer as a result of losing my terminal ileum. (I had an ileostomy back in October 2010). Before the operation I was offered the chance to take part in an Enhanced Recovery Scheme at one of the top London hospitals. Part of the ethos behind this regime is to fully inform the patient of what will happen at all stages of the process – pre-op, during the hospital stay and beyond. Was I told about BAM before the operation? I’d have to answer “maybe” and this brings us to the point of this post. Let me explain….

I was told that after the operation absorption of vitamins and salts would be much reduced due to lack of a terminal ileum. The surgeon repeated this message on his ward round post-op. If someone told you that your body wouldn’t absorb salts properly what would you take that to mean? I took it at face value, I would need to up my intake of salt (sodium chloride) to compensate and take supplemental vitamins. I didn’t see the need to question the statement as it seemed very clear.

It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with BAM (4 years after the ileostomy) that I found it has an alternative name “Bile SALT Malabsorption”. Suddenly the comment about not absorbing “salt” took on another meaning. You can see the problem.

This is where Donald Rumsfeld comes in. I heard what the Enhanced Recovery Nurse and the surgeon told me. I understood what the words meant – to me. I didn’t appreciate that I didn’t understand what the words meant to them. From their point of view – they were using their everyday, medical terms to describe a likely problem to a patient.

From this experience I have learnt that you must always question what you are being told and do your best to get the doctor, consultant or surgeon to explain, in simple terms or non-medical terms, exactly what they mean and what they perceive the implications to be.

I keep coming back to those particular words in the quote “there are things we don’t know we don’t know.” Try repeating them to yourself as you enter the consulting room…..

Life Changing

Monday 11th October 2010 – OPERATION DAY

The operation time slipped from the 11:30am originally planned but eventually I was collected from the 12th floor and arrived down in the anaesthesia room at 12:30pm. The theatre team were ready for me and started the preparation procedures. They seemed to be a very happy crew, laughing and joking and that helped put me at my ease.

The anaesthetist I had met earlier then appeared. He greeted me with a broad smile and said he was ready to fit the epidural. Once that was done he said I’m just going to give you a mild sedative to relax you. I just drifted off into oblivion. Never trust an anaesthetist.

That’s the last I remember until waking up at six o’clock in Recovery. It was freezing. I was feeling no pain as the epidural was doing its job well but I was freezing. Shivering. Violently shivering. The house doctor, that I had seen in my room that morning, came up to see how I was. His first word was “Sorry…” so I knew what was coming. He told me it was a four and a half hour operation and that because of what they found when they opened me up it was necessary to have a stoma in order to give my large intestine a chance to recover. He lifted the blankets so I could see what they had done. It didn’t really come as a shock as I always knew it was a possibility and was mentally prepared for it. I can imagine what it would have felt like if I hadn’t been forewarned.

By late afternoon my wife was starting to get concerned. It must be a lot worse for those sitting at home waiting for news than the patient who is comfortably numb. She hadn’t had any news on how the operation went so she rang the Ward. They told here that I hadn’t arrived yet but would call when they knew what was happening. Just gone six thirty a doctor rang to tell her that I was OK. It had been complex surgery and I was still in Recovery.

The Team in Recovery were concerned about my readings, especially the temperature. At one point I had a “bair hugger” put round me which is a hollow blanket into which hot air is blown. Now I know what a formula one tyre goes through on the grid. I was offered a warm drink just a couple of hours after the operation. No more “nil by mouth”. It wasn’t until I was finally wrapped up in a large, microwaveable blanket that my temperature began to return to normal and I could be taken up to the ward. By now it was around eight o’clock.

Another huge change over the past few years is being able to use a mobile phone in hospital. I suppose it was inevitable as people would use them whatever. I asked the nurse if I could get my phone so I could ring my wife. As I explained earlier, they had locked my valuables in the ward safe and the night shift didn’t know the combination. Very frustrating.

I was taken to Northumberland Ward on the 11th floor, where I spent the rest of my stay. I had been expecting to be put in Page Ward, as that was the ward specialising in colorectal surgery. Unfortunately there were no beds available so I was put into the sister ward next door where they specialised in upper GI conditions.

{I felt really good and so could have easily written up my blog if I’d have had my iPad. (I imagine this was a post op high induced by the drugs). I finally managed to get hold of it the following morning to write this post.)

The house doctor came to visit me again to see if there was anything I needed. I asked him if he could ring my wife and tell her I was safely up in the Ward. He had a number of other things to take care of first but eventually she got a call at eleven thirty……..

I said at the top of this post that it was a truly life changing experience. I’ll go into more detail in another post but because of it :

  1. Lost my terminal ileum and gained BAM (bile acid malabsorption)
  2. Got stoma’d
  3. Started my relationship with St.Thomas’ Hospital
  4. Became very laid back about all things medical
  5. …and started blogging

Post Op Note : I never fully understood exactly what the operation involved. Earlier this year I contacted one of the surgeons and using the operation notes and pathology report, he put together this sketch for me.

op-drawing-by-surgeon

Where do we go from here?

At the moment it makes a change to write a post not connected to the #HAWMC (Health Activist Month Writer’s Challenge) that I’ve just completed. Having said that, there is still a link because I have mentioned in a couple of those posts that I find blogging therapeutic. It helps me to be objective and get things straight in my mind.

This post is therefore primarily for my own benefit but any thoughts/comments/questions welcome.

Background

I’m off to see my gastro consultant at Guy’s Hospital in just over a weeks time (12th December). I’ve already started getting my list of questions ready but I want to make sure I capture all the relevant details. I’m expecting us to agree next steps given my recent test/procedure results.

Since my reversal operaion in June 2011 I’ve been taking no Crohn’s drugs at all and everything has pointed towards me being in clinical remission. I really don’t want to take any more medication than the current Omeprazole, Propranolol, Loperamide and iron tablets  that I am on for PVT (Portal Vein Thrombosis).

When I my consultant, almost a year ago I said “I feel fine. I can’t see why we shouldn’t stretch these appointments out to yearly intervals.”  I don’t know exactly how long it was before I started to regret it, probably about three months, as the bathroom dashes had returned. As ever, with IBD/Crohn’s, it’s not easy to pinpoint what has caused the change and now that I have the addition of Bile Acid Malabsorption to consider it makes it even more difficult.

I tend to discount stress as I like to think I manage it quite well. At that time I was commuting to London, or more precisely Canary Wharf, and the travelling was always unpredictable, mainly due to the truly appaling service provided by Southern Rail and the frequent RMT strikes. To be sure of getting a train meant getting up at five o’clock in the morning. Maybe stress did play its part this time. My wife has said I seem a lot more relaxed now that I’ve given up work. (I decided to semi-retire at the beginning of November but I’m open to offers for short term assignments.)

The upshot was that I emailed my consultant and explained the problem. He suggested a calprotectin test (stool sample) and we would decide what to do next depending upon the result. After three weeks (28th May) the test report came back showing a considerable jump upwards to just over 400, suggesting active inflammation.

A colonoscopy was arranged – 13th July – and the finding was “ongoing mild colonic crohn’s disease. No evidence of crohn’s recurrence in the neo-terminal ileum.” The previous scoping (February 2015) noted “mild, patchy erthema (redness) throughout the colon” but concluded “quiescent (inactive) crohn’s disease.”

Because a colonoscopy can only just reach into the small bowel an MRI scan was booked  to look at my small bowel. I didn’t have to wait long – 29th July with a follow-up appointment on 5th September to discuss the results. Suprisingly, the MRI showed a stricture in my colon even though the scope didn’t. Very strange. This conundrum would be put to the Gastro Dept’s next MDM (Multi Disciplinary Meeting).

The MRI scan also showed adhesions, which are usual after surgery, but I would like to know a bit more about locations. I’ve been getting an ache around ny anastomosis for a number of years but it seems to be worse in the last week or so. This may be down to lifting a couple of “heavier than they looked” objects. Yes, I know it was stupid but male arrogance etc…..

I’m intrigued to know how the MDM reconciled the apparently contradictory colonoscopy and MRI scan results? I would have thought the camera results would take precedence. I also need to understand if the adhesions, on the scan, are just confined to my rejoin (terminal ileum). We’ll talk about their conclusions on 12th December.

We also discussed the large jump in calprotectin level and he asked me to repeat the test to check whether this was a rogue result. Unfortunately the result, when it came back, was even higher.

Looking at the calpro graph it’s apparent that somewhere between November 2015 and May 2016 the inflammation restarted.

calproI mustn’t forget to mention that a few weeks back I was having a “do I call an ambulance” moment when I started loosing some blood from where the sun don’t shine (no, not Manchester). I concluded that due to the fact it was bright red it must be very fresh and the result of surface injury and did not warrant 999. By the next day I was fine again.

Over the last few weeks my digestive system seems to be back on an even keel so is it possible/advisable to continue without medication even though mild inflammation is present? Is any damage done by not taking medication for such a long time? Does the calpro trend suggest that the inflammation is getting worse? I have noticed that I can sometimes feel the action of peristalsis across my middle which I’m assuming is matter passing along the transverse colon. Maybe this ties in with the mild inflammation.

I will mention that I have not talked to my GP about Bile Acid Malabsorption as my digestive system seems to have returned to normal with just the odd blip every 10 days or so. Is this return to normality as a result of no longer commuting to London?

I’m booked in for an upper GI endoscopy on 21st December to monitor the growth of varices in my esophagus.  I’m wondering if we should be doing any further monitoring of my liver to look for worsening of the cirrhosis. Add it to the list.

I just need to turn the above into a succinct list  and I’m ready for the appointment. I just hope the newly announved ASLEF ovetime ban doesn’t stop the trains from running.

It should be an interesting session on 12th.

 

#HAWMC – Day 20 – Highlight

day_20If I’d written this three months ago I would have either used a slightly nebulous highlight – “managing my health, work and lifestyle so that they work in harmony” (most of the time) or I might have said “writing a book”.

However, in September, I had a new experience because of Crohn’s/IBD. (What follows is a slightly edited post from just after that event)

“Whatever else you can say about Crohn’s Disease it certainly does give you the chance of new experiences, mostly unpleasant, to be honest. I won’t list the nasty ones here as they are covered in the video at the end of this post.

A fellow IBD patient, or should that be sufferer, had been asked to to give a talk about “Living with IBD” to some nurses. Unfortunately she was double booked and asked if I would step in. With typical male arrogance and over confidenece I immediately agreed. The date was set for 5 weeks time.

It was actually something I’d wanted to do for a while. I suppose it reawoke the “performing” instinct that first showed itself when I was  in a band. That was around the time I was diagnosed with Crohn’s.

mav_lak_2
That’s me on the left – The Lakers, Redhill

GETTING READY

I wouldn’t need any preparation. I’d lived with IBD long enough to write a book (literally). I would just turn up and talk, or so I thought. The last thing I wanted was to read from a script.

At this point I found out that there would be around 200 nurses, in a proper lecture theatre and  I would be talking at the end of the afternoon. It dawned on me that to do the subject justice, and not short change the nurses, I would at least need some notes and something to keep everyone awake. Where’s that mind map software?

mind_mapI was rather staggered by the sheer number of topics I came up with. After much arranging and re-arranging I wrote them down as a series of headings and bullet points. That would do. I tried a run through. TERRIBLE. I stumbled over the words to flesh out each point. I would have to give in and write out some notes.

Another run through and nearly as bad  – stilted, hesitant, repetitive…..  I would have to give in and write the talk out word-for-word, the very thing I didn’t want to do.

Having just written a book (100,000 words) using iBooksAuthor software I decided it was the right tool  for this new task.  There is one particular feature that is indispensible – the option which allows you to take your text, convert it to speech and then save as an mp3 file for listening to on an iPod. Why this extra step?

I find that no matter how often I read text through, either on screen or in printed form, it is very difficult to pick up words that have been repeated too often or where simply by changing the structure of a sentence it makes a far better read. Listening to the text several times also gives you a chance to start taking it on board and makes one’s delivery more polished.

Here’s an example as an mp3. Not marvellous but good enough to run through the words without being distracted by the text on the screen. It shows how easy it is too identify a missing word.

After several further iterations, including two read throughs to my wife, I was finally happy with the contents.

Now it was time to remember all those tips I picked up on the various corporate presentation courses I had been sent on – move around the stage, make eye contact with all parts of your audience, generate some audience participation by asking THEM questions, communicate with passion and finally include a surprise.

THE BIG DAY

When I got to the lecture theatre, with a real live audience, it suddenly became a lot easier. I did use my text but just as a “confidence safety net” and to make sure I didn’t forget anything (which I still did). I had taken a small camera with me but unfortunately didn’t get there in time to set it up properly so the sound wasn’t brilliant.

The resulting video was rather long all in one go so I’ve split it into three parts. Of the three I think that the second one covering surgery and stomas is the most representative. I’ll let you judge the result.”

Kings College Hospital, Lecture Theatre

I wasn’t expecting that round of applause for my stoma stunt!

This has to be my Health Activist highlight as it was the first time I had spoken in public and gave me a chance to give an insight into IBD to the nurses who will end up looking after patients, some of which will have IBD. It’s whetted my appetite to take it further. I rather fancy talking to some consultants and doctors next.

You need an operation

This is an extract from the chapter that covers the immediate period before major surgery for a stricture in my terminal ileum.

Friday, 8th October 2010 – X MARKS THE SPOT

My final visit to St.Thomas’s, as an outpatient, before the operation. I had to visit the stoma nurse in case I ended up having to have a bag fitted. Obviously I was hoping that it wouldn’t happen but you need to cover all the bases. As the saying goes ” Sh*t happens”, and it’s quite relevant in this case!

We started by discussing all the implications of being stoma’d. She told me they were not that difficult to deal with and it should only be for 6 months. She then looked at my physique (= bulges) and how I wore my trousers so she could position the stoma in the optimum place. Once she was happy with the location she marked it. I now had a large black cross on the right side of my abdomen, marked with indelible felt pen and covered by a waterproof sticker. I was still hopeful that it would be intact after the operation.

X marks the spot
X marks the spot

I told the nurse that I intended to keep my blog going whilst I was in hospital. She looked rather sceptically at me and said that for the first few days I would have an attention span of about 5 minutes and it was unlikely that I would feel like doing anything. She was partly right.

I asked what time my operation was likely to start. Surgery usually began at 8:00am but until they saw the full list of operations they wouldn’t be able to tell me where I would be in the sequence. They might have a better idea when I was admitted on the Sunday. When we saw the Enhanced Recovery Nurse the previous week she said that the surgeon likes to do his “interesting” patients early morning and that I was one of the “interesting” ones. It brought to mind the Chinese saying/curse “May you live in interesting times”.

From then on it was just a waiting game until Sunday when I would get the call telling me which ward I needed to report to.

Saturday, 9th October 2010 – LAST DAY OF FREEDOM

The last full day of being able to drive for at least six weeks so we decided to go out for the afternoon to see the autumn tints at the National Trust’s Sheffield Park Garden.

In the evening I made a final list of chores that needed to be completed the following day before I got the call from St.Thomas’s telling me which ward to report to and when they wanted me. I decided to see just how far down the list I could get. I was under strict instructions not to leave home until the hospital had rung but had been assured that they would find me a bed and that the op would go ahead on Monday unless the surgeon fell off his bike again. Since he had done that last year they were hoping he had learned his lesson.


Sunday, 10th October 2010 – THE WAITING GAME

I always knew that this day would be the worst in the process so far. The admission letter told me not to leave home until the hospital had contacted me with the name of the ward I was to report to and at what time.

All the chores were completed in the morning and then we waited for the call. It got to half past two and the tension was just too great so I rang the ward I thought I was being admitted to. Rather worryingly I was told that they had no record of me but would do some ringing around and let me know what was happening.

About 10 minutes later I got a call to say that there wasn’t an available bed in Page Ward but I would be expected in Howard Ward instead. They would call me back to confirm when I was needed. We had a quick look at the St.Thomas’s website and couldn’t see Howard Ward listed. More worry.

I then got a call from Howard Ward to say that I could come in as soon as I was ready and that I was getting a single room in the Private wing of the hospital but not to get too comfortable as it was for one night only.

This really was the most stressful time for myself and my wife but as soon as we set off for London I relaxed and then became positively chilled out. Unfortunately it wasn’t so easy for my wife. If anything my laid back attitude made those around me more anxious.

Private Room
My private room – one night only

My sister picked us up and took us down to the station and we all boarded the train to Waterloo. We walked up from the station to St.Thomas’ and arrived just after half past four. Howard Ward is on the twelfth (top) floor of the hospital and entrance is via a set of locked doors. It took a while to find someone to let us in and eventually were greeted by a friendly ward sister who showed us to my room. The first impression was “Wow, what a view” as we looked south down the Thames and over to the Houses of Parliament.

Just before six o’clock I said my goodbyes to my wife and sister, wondering, at the back of my mind, if that would be the last time I would see them. I don’t want to sound over dramatic but it was a possibility. Apart from that one doubt I was remarkably calm and collected (and have been so ever since, no matter what my health has thrown at me. I wish I could pass the secret on to others but it simply happened and not as the result of a conscious effort).

The ward sister returned to check my details, blood pressure and heart rate and take some MRSA swabs. Then we were joined by a doctor who stuck a cannula in the back of my hand and took some blood samples. I was allowed to eat up until midnight but after that it was to be fluids only. My dinner arrived and I ate it whilst watching the river traffic passing up and down the Thames. Mainly pleasure boats packed with people for an evening cruise, taking advantage of the autumn sunshine.

Howard Ward
Ready for dinner

When I had finished my dinner I was connected up to a drip and told to expect another visit from a doctor around 11:00pm.

Once you’ve been operated on they like to get you down into the main surgical wards as there are more staff around to keep an eye on you. I still didn’t know what time the operation would be and wouldn’t be able to find out until the surgeon arrived in the morning.

I took the opportunity to spend the next few minutes chilling out, watching the sun set over the River Thames. The next update to my blog would be after the operation. It would probably be at least Tuesday before I would be in a fit state to type further entries.

Into the unknown……..but what a view.

Thames - Upstream from Howard Ward
The view from Howard Ward – looking upstream towards Battersea

Monday, 11th October 2010 – PRE OP

I was amazed that I managed to get some sleep. I was woken up at 2:00am by one of the nurses to connect a new drip and then went back to sleep. The next time I woke it was a glorious autumn morning. One of the house doctors came in, introduced himself and explained I was the last on the list for surgery as I was the most “interesting” and they didn’t know how long the operation would take. He answered any questions I had and then went off to the operating theatre. I was given DVT stockings and a surgical gown to put on. I lay on the bed watching the sun rise over Millbank.

It's a beautiful day
The sun rising over the old part of St.Thomas’

I was then visited by the anaesthetist. He said that it looked like I would be going down to theatre at 11:00am and it could be a 5 hour operation. There were some formalities that he needed to run through which revolved around risks and consent forms. He explained that they intended to use an epidural for pain control. Whilst this had proved very effective there were a number of risks involved. He went through each one in turn and gave me the probability of each occurring. At the end of it I signed a consent form that confirmed I understood the risks and I was prepared to go ahead with the operation.

IBD Tests and Procedures

Apart from the physical and psychological effects of Crohn’s Disease there’s one aspect that I don’t see mentioned that often – the huge amount of time that patients can spend attending appointments and undergoing tests or procedures. Just how disruptive this can be has been brought home to me since my ileal re-section in October 2010.

To give you a flavour of the types of tests and procedures Crohn’s (and related conditions) can require I have extracted descriptions, from my blog, of the different types of tests I’ve been through over the years. These are my experiences, yours may be completely different.

Apologies – this is quite a long post – but I have been through many procedures and some are quite involved. I’ve arranged them in alphabetical order.

Can I have my life back?

BARIUM ENEMA – Mayday Hospital – 1978

Of all the procedures I’ve been through I think this is the most undignified. Having taken the usual purging prep the previous day, arrived at the hospital and changed into a gown, I ended up on a bed with a tube stuck where the sun don’t shine and barium liquid being poured down it. Once I was “full” the instruction came “to try and to hold it all in” whilst the tube was removed and the x-rays taken. Just writing this I am clenching my buttocks as I remember that feeling of the tube being gently withdrawn and then it’s all down to muscle control.

Once the x-rays were taken, there was the dash to the nearest bathroom to allow what went in to come out, rapidly. I think I’d sum up the whole experience as unpleasant and the most likely to end in a very messy situation involving embarrassment, mops, buckets and cleaners.

To my surprise, 40 years on, the procedure is still used

BARIUM MEAL AND FOLLOW THROUGH – Mayday Hospital – 18th May 1999

This is etched in my memory. As with many of the procedures there was the prep to take the day before which effectively emptied my digestive system. I arrived at hospital and changed into one of those backless gowns that are impossible to fasten properly without help. It was then back to the waiting area. Just putting on the gown already lifts the stress levels and sitting like that in a public waiting area just makes it worse.

The first problem was swallowing the barium meal – a thick, off-putting, tasteless sludge. Having downed the final mouthful there was then a wait whilst it made it way slowly around my digestive system. I was taken to a bed and told to lay on my right hand side for 45 minutes as this would aid digestion. I was then shown into the x-ray room.

I lay face up on the x-ray table whilst the radiographer took a preliminary scan but was not happy with the result. He was having difficulty in getting the barium meal to move around my system due to a stricture. He produced a rubber beachball which he placed between the x-ray head and my abdomen. He then proceeded to bounce it up and down and it slowly did the trick. The x-rays showed that the terminal ileum stricture was as bad as ever. My bowel was down to the size of my little finger. As a result my consultant gave me the choice of starting Azathioprine or having surgery. I chose the Aza.

CALPROTECTIN – Various dates

The procedure is relatively simple – collect stool sample (the most difficult bit); send to path lab; wait 10 days for result. Lab manage to loose result or come up with lame excuse for not processing it. Repeat process all over again.

Research has shown there is a good correlation between the calprotectin result and what one would discover by colonoscopy. There are always exceptions to the rule and, unfortunately, I seem to be one of them. I have a constantly rising calpro figure but with, at present, no definitive explanation. Watch this space.

CAPSULE ENDOSCOPY – Monday 19th November 2018 – St.Thomas’ Hospital

The only part of my digestive tract that hadn’t been seen through a lens was the small bowel between duodenum and my anastomosis. It was decided that it would be worth seeing if there was anything there that could explain my very high calprotectin results. The test would involve swallowing a capsule containing the camera, LED lights and a transmitter. I would have to wear a recording unit for 12 hours whilst the camera made its journey southwards.

The preparation is similar to having a colonoscopy but with none of the dreaded prep solution needed. The instructions listed the medications that would have to be put on hold. These included stopping iron tablets and Loperamide 7 days out. Iron tablets – no problem, but Loperamide – that would be the one instruction I wouldn’t be following. The thought of taking a trip to London having not taken Loperamide for that length of time was not even worth considering.

I arrived at St.Thomas’ and was collected by the specialist nurse. She asked the usual questions and then ran through the risks of the procedure. The main one being the capsule becoming stuck and the possible means required to extract it, the worst scenario being surgery. I signed the consent form.

The first task was to attach the numbered sensors in the correct positions around the abdomen. Once in position the nurse produced the capsule and asked me to hold it between my fingers then pass it in front of the recorder unit. A bleep showed that they were now paired. As she had already input my information into the unit the display showed my name, hospital number etc.

It was time to see how easy swallowing a capsule would be. The answer – very easy. I took one gulp of water and it was on its way. The nurse switched on the live monitoring function and we watched it enter my stomach. To save battery power she turned the display off and I didn’t have the courage to try it myself in case I ruined the whole procedure. (…and what if I had seen something that, to my eyes, looked wrong? A surefire way of inducing stress.

As the unit has a 12 hour battery life she said the unit would switch off just before midnight and I could then remove the sensors. The recorder unit would then need to be returned to St.Thomas’. I explained I was not available the following day so we agreed that I would take it back on Wednesday. Two weeks later the results should be available.

COLONOSCOPY

Earlier in 2018 I ran a non-scientific poll on SoMe asking which procedure IBD patients found the most unpleasant. Out of 663 respondents, the three most unpopular were – MRI scan 10%; endoscopy 30%; but the clear winner was colonoscopy 58%. Every stage is unpleasant – preparation; fasting; the camera; and the aftermath. So I make no apologies for writing more about this subject than the others.

Preparation Day – Tuesday 19th June 2012  – the day before the procedure the serious “prep” started. I was allowed a light breakfast then only liquids such as fruit squash and Bovril. At midday there were 4 senna tablets to swallow. An hour later I took the first sachet of Citrafleet (sodium picosulfate) mixed with 150ml of water. It didn’t taste that bad and quickly took “effect”. That’s the “effect” that stops you from straying very far from the toilet! When it got to 5 o’clock it was time to take the second sachet. (There are other types of preparation solution in use but they require consuming much larger quantities – KleanPrep – 4 x 1 litre; MoviePrep – 2 x 1 litre – just adding to the misery)

Procedure Day – Wednesday 20th June 2012

COLONOSCOPY (AGAIN)

Preparation Day – Wednesday 19th December 2012

The day before the procedure and this is when the serious “prep” starts. You’re allowed a light breakfast then only liquids such as fruit squash and Bovril. At midday there are 4 senna tablets to swallow. At 1 o’clock it the first sachet of Citrafleet (sodium picosulfate) mixed with 150ml of water. It doesn’t taste that bad and quickly takes “effect”. That’s the “effect” that stops you from straying very far from the toilet! When it gets to 5 o’clock it’s time to take the second sachet and that’s it.

Citrafleet – sodium picosulfate

Procedure Day – Thursday 20th December 2012

Having not eaten anything since the previous morning the hunger was getting the better of me. I was allowed to drink water up to 3 hours before the procedure to avoid dehydration.

I arrived at Guy’s ready for the early afternoon appointment, accompanied by my wife. Due to the use of a sedative the test would not be carried out unless I had someone to accompany me home safely.

I changed into a surgical gown ready to go. My blood pressure was checked and I was asked the standard questions about allergies and medications. There was then a long time spent in the waiting area until a cannula was inserted into the back of my hand. After another wait the doctor arrived. I had not met him before. He sat down to talk through what he was about to do and get me to sign the consent form. Once I arrived in to the procedure room I asked to have minimum sedation as I wanted to watch the camera images on the screen.

Before starting with the camera he asked me various questions about my medical history and the medications used. I explained that a recent MRI scan suggested that the Crohn’s had flared up again in both my large and small intestines. The colonoscopy was expected to confirm this. He then explained the potential risks of the procedure, the main one being the risk of perforating the intestine and requiring surgery to correct it. I signed the consent form and we were ready to go.

I was told to lay on my left hand side, with my knees drawn up to my chest, and the camera was stuck where the sun don’t shine. It all started OK and there was no sign of any inflammation. A real surprise. The camera continued on its way but then reached the left splenic flexure (the sharp bend where the colon turns to run horizontally across the body). Try as he might the doctor could not get the camera to go round the corner. He tried withdrawing it a little and then pushing again. He got the nurse to push hard against my abdomen to ensure my gut was lying flat. He tried getting me to lie on my back. Nothing worked. There had never been a problem in the past and after 50 or so minutes the procedure was aborted. Surprisingly I felt no after effects.

A further colonoscopy would need to be booked or possibly they would try a capsule endoscopy.

COLONOSCOPY (2nd ATTEMPT)

Procedure Day – Thursday 20th December 2012

A very early start to get to Guy’s Hospital for 8:30am. The pre-colonscopy preparation and procedures followed the same pattern as before.

I was pleased to see the friendly face of my lead consultant appear. (He has similar skills to Lewis Hamilton for getting round bends). He had asked me to ensure that I booked a slot when he was in clinic as he wanted to carry out the procedure personally and it had worked. He ran through the potential risks and got me to sign the consent form. We discussed what had happened during the previous colonoscopy. It wouldn’t be long before I would be lead into theatre.

It was another 30 minutes, in which time I was cannulated and then, at last I was on. I walked into the theatre and lay on the table. The oxygen supply, heart monitor and blood pressure armband were all fitted and I was asked to roll onto my side with my knees drawn up. The doctor injected doses of Fentanyl (a synthetic opiate analgesic more potent than morphine), Midazolam (a short-acting central nervous system depressant) and Buscopan (used to relieve spasms of the gastrointestinal tract). You’d think that this cocktail of drugs would knock you out but no, you remain conscious but comfortably numb.

I was asked if I wanted to keep my glasses on and I said “yes” so that I could watch the action on the monitor. Sharp intake of breath and the camera started its bendy journey. It made slow progress but by careful guidance, and some shifting of my position, it made it beyond the splenic flexure and then continued all the way to the anastomosis.

So what did we see in glorious living colour on a large screen – NOTHING. No signs of active Crohn’s Disease. This was the result I was hoping for but didn’t really expect. The consultant assessed my anastomosis as Rutgeert’s score i0. (The Rutgeert’s score is used to predict the course of postoperative Crohn’s disease (CD) and to establish the need for treatment for recurrence prevention. The score i0 translate to post-operative remission).

COLONOSCOPY (WITH A TWIST) – Saturday 11th March 2017 – St.Thomas’ Hospital

I knew this was going to be a bit different. Firstly, the timing instructions for taking the prep had changed. They now proposed taking the second dose on the morning of the procedure! This did not sound like a good idea given I had at least an hour’s journey by train. I chose to take it late the previous evening.

Secondly, it was a Saturday morning and I had agreed to take part in a teaching session as it meant I only had to wait just over 2 weeks for the procedure. By 10:30 I was wristbanded, cannulated and off to change into a pair of very stylish paper boxer shorts with a velcro flap at the back. Once I had donned hospital and dressing gowns it was into the male waiting area until they were ready for me.

The Gastro registrar appeared and explained that he would start off then hand over to the lead consultant when we were joined by the audience (via a video link). We agreed I would have minimal sedation as I wanted to be able to watch the images and ask questions.

He lead me down to the procedure room where I was greeted by the nurses and given the sedation. I was asked to adopt a fetal position and, with a liberal handful of KY jelly, the scope started it long journey northwards. The image appeared on a large screen above us. In the bottom left hand corner there was a feature I hadn’t seen before. The consultant referred to it as the “sat nav” and it showed the relative position of the endoscope in the colon.

It was not an easy journey as my sigmoid was tending to loop as the scope attempted to pass through. There was a lot of changing position – lying on my right side, left side or back – and lots of pressure put on my abdomen by one of the nurses pushing down. It was also a long journey as the aim was to go a short way into the small intestine, past the anastomosis.

In the room next door my regular consultant was acting as chaperone to the group of international gastroenterology students who had come to St.Thomas’ to see “how we do it” in the UK. The screen on the wall flickered into action and two way communication was established. He briefly outlined my Crohn’s history and I was able to fill in some of the details. He explained the MRI issue that needed resolving and called up a copy of the report from my electronic file.

With a lot of perseverance, and gas to inflate the gut, the scope had reached the rejoin. I wonder whether the distraction of the video link caused me to relax and let the scope pass more easily. From then on the consultant gave a running commentary on what appeared on the screen. It was fascinating and informative. There was a debate between the 3 gastros as to which Rutgeerts score they would give my anastomosis. Was it i0, i1 or i2? The conclusion – i0.

Next they went through the MRI report and the scope was moved to the locations identified to see if any strictures were present. None found. One of the consultants remarked – “Scope 1 – MRI Scan 0”

One thing that was apparent throughout my gut was a slight reddening (erythema). The scope was zoomed in to examine it and to look for any tell tale signs of active Crohn’s but found nothing. The consultant decided to take a few biopsies. I had never seen this done on previous scopings so watched with a mixture of interest and cringing. What looked like a small crocodile clip appeared from the end of the scope and, under voice control, nipped into the wall of my gut. I waited for the pain but nothing, just a small trickle of blood. He decided to take a deeper sample so the device went back into the same location and took a further bite.

By now the scope had been in for about 45 minutes and it was finally time for it to be withdrawn. Always a relief. But what about the raised calprotectin level? They would have to come up with a non-Crohn’s explanation for it. The lead consultant bade farewell and I was wheeled out to Recovery. Experience over. When else would you get a chance to listen in to 3 leading gastros discussing your case and with the evidence before your eyes?

CT SCAN – East Surrey Hospital 2009

My last CT scan took place before I started blogging in earnest so I didn’t write a full account at the time. It is, however, a very significant test in my history of Crohn’s and is the procedure that confirmed surgery was inevitable. I can remember I was desperate to have the scan as I knew things were going very wrong internally. Rather than just book an appointment I explained my predicament to the appointments clerk and said that I could be available at fairly short notice should a cancellation arise. It worked and I was seen within a few days.

I don’t remember much about the actual procedure apart from sitting in the waiting room having been told to arrive an hour early to drink some liquid. The liquid turned out to be water and I was presented with a litre jug and a glass. I wasn’t sure how I would get through it all so decided to set myself a target of downing a glass every so many minutes. It was a good plan until a very apologetic nurse appeared with a second litre jug and said I should have given you this one to drink as well. Daunting.

When I went for my next outpatient’s appointment in June the radiologist’s report was not available. The scan itself was on the system so my consultant opened up the file and we watched it on his computer screen. The first thing that struck me were the large areas of solid black that appeared. To my untrained eye they looked serious and I wondered if they represented growths in my abdomen.

Luckily they were just air pockets which show up as black voids.
My consultant explained that the scan needed an expert to fathom out what was going on. He was not knowledgeable enough to be able to interpret what we were seeing.

It wasn’t until the next appointment in early August that I was told the CT report was now available. The delay was because of the complicated picture with both ileal disease and the suspicion that I was fistulating from there into other parts of the small bowel, possibly the sigmoid. The suggestion was that I may have a localised perforation “with no definitive collection”. My consultant put it in layman’s terms – “It looks like you’ve got an octopus in there” and hence the name of this blog!

FIBROSCAN – Monday 12th November 2012 – St.Thomas’

This is the non-invasive alternative to a needle biopsy. To quote from the unit manufacturer’s literature – “a mechanical pulse is generated at the skin surface, which is propagated through the liver. The velocity of the wave is measured by ultrasound. The velocity is directly correlate to the stiffness of the liver, which in turn reflects the degree of fibrosis – the stiffer the liver, the greater the level.”

For this procedure you lie on a bed with your right side exposed and right arm above your head. Some jelly is applied to the probe and then it is placed against your side and triggered to send a pulse. This is repeated 10 or so times.

The machine then aggregates the scores and gives you a value. Mine came out as 7.2. The nurse said that up to 5 was normal and above 12 would cause concern therefore my value showed that there were some fibrosis. (A second Fibroscan in 2017 had increased to 7.8)

FLEXIBLE SIGMOIDOSCOPY – September 2010 – St.Thomas’ Hospital

Just like a colonoscopy but with a smaller, shorter endoscope. The surgeon, who would be carrying out my ileostomy, wanted to have a look for himself to see if there were any fistulas into my lower colon.

LIVER BIOPSY – Wednesday 12th December 2012 – St.Thomas’ Hospital

The day of the liver biopsy had arrived. I’d covered all the bases so it should go smoothly. This is a standard procedure that is done every day but for some reason I’ve found the thought of it quite daunting. Not the actual procedure itself (although this is what Patient.co.uk says on the matter – “Although liver biopsy may be an essential part of patient management, it is an invasive procedure with a relatively high risk of complications”).

Start time was set for 9:30 at St.Thomas’ and the letter said be there 30 minutes early to get prepped. I needed to be escorted on the journey home so my long suffering wife accompanied me.

We arrived at St.Thomas’ well before 9:00 and made our way into the warren called Interventional Radiology. I booked in with one of the nurses and we were shown to a waiting room. The nurse came back with the consent form to start filling out and then disappeared.

About ten minutes later I thought I heard my name mentioned together with “Where is he? They’ve been looking for him for 20 minutes”. A little bit disconcerting. We sat tight and the administrator appeared and said “Your platelets are very low and they are concerned about the procedure. You were expected in last night to get prepared. Did anyone call you? They’re going to try and ring you on your mobile”. I checked my mobile but hadn’t missed any calls.

At this point I could see the wheels coming off the wagon. Luckily I had brought with me a copy of the email trail which explained who I had spoken to and what I had done to make everything, supposedly, go smoothly. I explained all this to the administrator. She disappeared for a while and then returned to say that they were waiting for a call from one of the doctors to see how they wanted to proceed. By now we were approaching 9:30 so I could see my “slot” disappearing.

After a few more minutes the nurse re-appeared and put on my patient wristband. This was a good sign and then another nurse appeared with hospital gowns and slippers but told me not to put them on until the doctor had run through the consent form and I had signed it.

A few more minutes and the doctor appeared. Good news. The procedure was going ahead. She went through what they were going to do during the procedure and what the various risks were. The main ones being bleeding from the puncture wound, damage to the biliary ducts and not getting sufficient of a sample therefore needing a further procedure at a later date. I signed the form and then changed into the gowns. Being an upper body procedure you only have to strip to the waist.

I went into the preparation area to have a cannula inserted. Straight into the vein in one go. At 10:10 I was taken down to the theatre and lay on my back on a trolley with my arms over my head. Two doctors introduced themselves and proceeded to scan my liver area with an ultrasound probe. They discussed the best entry point and route for the needle. Once they were happy with where it was going one doctor took over and it was time to get the area ready for introducing the biopsy needle. The area was cleaned down and a sterile sheet stuck in position with an opening at the puncture site. Ready to start.

First, local anaesthetic was injected around the area. The biopsy needle was then slowly introduced through the skin, guided by the ultrasound scan. There was one point which sent a short, sharp pain through my lower abdomen and that’s when the needle passed through the outer membrane of the liver. I was expecting the needle to go straight in, take a sample, and then be quickly withdrawn but the process actually takes a lot longer as it is slowly guided into position. Every so often I was getting a sharp pain in my shoulder. I’ve learned not to “be brave”, and keep quiet, as the pain may indicate a problem. I told the doctor what was happening and she adjusted the needle position accordingly. I don’t know exactly how long the whole thing took, probably 50 minutes all up. It was quite a relief to hear the words “All finished”.

I was told to roll onto my right side as this applies pressure to the wound and helps it seal. Back in the Recovery Room the nurse explained that I had to stay on my side for 2 hours. After that I would be able to lie on my back and eat and drink but would need to spend a further two hours in Recovery before I could go home. I was wired up to a blood pressure/heart rate monitor and every few minutes one of the nurses would check to make sure everything was OK. I rang my wife to tell her what time I could be collected and then settled down for the two hour wait before eating.

Once the two hours were up I was allowed to roll onto my back and sit up. I was presented with an NHS Snack Box – sandwiches, crisps, yogurt, fruit juice and a chocolate biscuit. Never seen one of those before. I had some questions, mainly to do with what to look out for that would indicate if something was going wrong. The nurse patiently explained the potential signs of trouble and answered my more general questions.

The next two hours passed fairly quickly and just before 15:00 the doctor, who had carried out the procedure, came to see me to make sure everything was OK and sign me off. My wife had turned up so it was a quick change out of the gowns and we set off for the station. I never did get to the bottom of “we were expecting him in last night”.

(BONE) MARROW BIOPSY – Wednesday 2nd October 2012 – Guy’s Hospital

My initial reaction when this procedure was first mooted was “so you’re going to push a large needle through my hip bone and collect some marrow all without the aid of a drill?”

The procedure was planned for mid-afternoon so I went into work as normal. I told various colleagues that I wouldn’t be around after lunch and explained why. Every single one of them uttered the same 3 words “that sounds painful”. After you’ve heard it for the umpteenth time a few nagging doubts set in. The previous week I had asked the haematologist if it would hurt to which she replied “you’ve got Crohn’s and had surgery. You’ve dealt with pain! This will be nothing by comparison”.

Having checked into the clinic the nurse came over and fitted an identification wristband. She said that I shouldn’t have to wait too long. When the doctor appeared. Her first reaction was “have you come alone?” That sounded a bit alarming. I asked why I would need to be accompanied and she replied that most patients were nervous about the procedure and liked to have someone with them. Whatever.

She showed me into a treatment room and I lay on my right hand side on the bed. She explained what she was going to do, where the needles would be inserted and then did the usual risk assessment talk. There was not a lot that could go wrong as the needles go straight through the skin into the hip bone and nowhere near any vital organs.

She asked me to pull my knees up to my chest and adopt a foetal position. She found the best location for the needle and thoroughly cleansed the area. This was followed by a series of shallow injections of local anaesthetic and was the most painful part of the whole experience but really not too bad. Certainly nothing to get hung up about. Some deeper injections were made but by now the local injections were working so I felt very little. A few minutes later it was time for the first sample needle to be inserted.

Instruments of Torture
Bone marrow biopsy slides

The aim is to get a sample of the aspirate (liquid) that can be spread onto microscope slides for an initial examination. She was having problems getting a good sample that wasn’t contaminated with blood as it kept clotting (which goes against what you would expect from someone with low platelets). Because I was tolerating the needle so well she took some more samples but explained that as long as she could get a good core sample then the quality of the liquid samples wasn’t important.

Time for the coring needle, which was quite a bit larger than the previous one. If you’ve ever seen one of those food programmes about cheese no doubt there will have been a scene where the cheese-maker inserts a coring tool into the cheese and pulls out a sample. Same principle here!

It takes a fair amount of force to push the larger needle through the outer layer of the bone. I could certainly feel it as it went deeper in. It wasn’t so much pain as a dull ache that traveled into the leg. After a couple of minutes of pushing the needle into the right depth it was withdrawn and the sample released. She was very pleased with the resulting core and set about dressing the puncture wound.

Bone marrow core

I then spent 15 minutes lying on my back whilst the blood clotted and sealed the wound. I was told that a nurse would come and tell me when I could go. After 20 minutes or so she came in and looked at the wound. It was fine so back on with my shoes and down to the station to catch the train home.

If you have got to have this procedure done it really is fairly painless. Once the initial local anaesthetic has been injected it’s pretty much plain sailing.

Unfortunately when the aspirate slides were examined they were found to be too contaminated with clotted blood. A few weeks later I underwent the whole process again but this time with the use of Heparin to avoid the clotting.

MRI SCAN – Monday 30th April 2012 – St.Thomas’ Hospital

I hadn’t had an MRI scan before so wasn’t sure what to expect. The main thing I’d been told was that some patients found the whole process claustrophobic. Because the scan was concentrating on the digestive system I wasn’t allowed to eat for the 8 hours prior to the test and was asked to arrive 1 hour early to drink a “special fluid”. This fluid looked very much like wallpaper paste but was lemon flavoured. There was a litre to drink and as I got closer to the bottom of the jug the consistency felt like wallpaper paste. Next time I have to drink MRI prep I’ll make sure I keep stirring it throughout.
The nurse then put a cannula into my arm ready for the contrast dye to be introduced.

When it had had time to move into my system I was taken into the scanner room. You’re confronted with a large, ring doughnut shaped bit of kit with a trolley that slides in and out. I was asked to lie face down on the trolley with my arms above my head. Not the most comfortable position when you’ve just drunk a litre of liquid. The radiographer explains what to expect and tells you that at various points within the test process you will be asked to hold your breath. Didn’t sound like a problem but you have to exhale first and that makes it a lot more difficult. You are given a set of headphones to wear as the machine is “quite noisy”. At least I didn’t get claustrophobia as I went into the tunnel feet first.

She wasn’t kidding about noisy. The best way I can describe it is being caught in the middle of a game of space invaders. The machine makes some very loud sounds and then, towards the end of the first test session, the table you are lying on starts to vibrate. A very strange feeling. The contrast dye is then introduced and the whole test sequence repeated.

When the tests were completed another nurse asked me how I was getting home. I said by public transport. He replied that the litre of liquid that I had just drunk was specially formulated not to be absorbed by the body and that I might want to wait around a bit before catching a train. I then realised the significance of his comment but not being one to shy away from a challenge, decided to jump on the train and see what happened.

I’m pleased to say that nothing, not even a hint of having to rush off to the loo. In fact the effect of the prep liquid was very short lived.
The results weren’t available straight away as they had to be interpreted by an MRI radiologist. There was a three week wait before I saw my usual consultant.

(St.Thomas’ have since changed the “special” liquid for Mannitol, a foul tasting solution)

one and nowhere near any vital organs.

She asked me to pull my knees up to my chest and adopt a foetal position. She found the best location for the needle and thoroughly cleansed the area. This was followed by a series of shallow injections of local anaesthetic and was the most painful part of the whole experience but really not too bad. Certainly nothing to get hung up about. Some deeper injections were made but by now the local injections were working so I felt very little. A few minutes later it was time for the first sample needle to be inserted.

The aim is to get a sample of the aspirate (liquid) that can be spread onto microscope slides for an initial examination. She was having problems getting a good sample that wasn’t contaminated with blood as it kept clotting (which goes against what you would expect from someone with low platelets). Because I was tolerating the needle so well she took some more samples but explained that the as long as she could get a good core sample then the quality of the liquid samples wasn’t important.

Time for the coring needle, which was quite a bit larger than the previous one. If you’ve ever seen one of those food programmes about cheese no doubt there will have been a scene where the cheese-maker inserts a coring tool into the cheese and pulls out a sample. Same principle here!

It takes a fair amount of force to push the larger needle through the outer layer of the bone. I could certainly feel it as it went deeper in. It wasn’t so much pain as a dull ache that traveled into the leg. After a couple of minutes of pushing the needle into the right depth it was withdrawn and the sample released. She was very pleased with the resulting core and set about dressing the puncture wound.

Bone marrow core sample

I then spent 15 minutes lying on my back whilst the blood clotted and sealed the wound. I was told that a nurse would come and tell me when I could go. After 20 minutes or so she came in and looked at the wound. It was fine so back on with my shoes and down to the station to catch the train home.

If you have got to have this procedure done it really is fairly painless. Once the initial local anaesthetic has been injected it’s pretty much plain sailing.

Unfortunately when the aspirate slides were examined they were found to be too contaminated with clotted blood. A few weeks later I underwent  the whole process again but this time with the use of Heparin to avoid the clotting.

MRCP SCAN – Thursday 5th July 2012 – Guy’s Hospital

The consultant wanted to have a look at my spleen and liver which meant no need for fasting beforehand or having to drink any special fluids. This time I was laying on my back, going into the machine head first. This was a lot more comfortable that the previous scan, in April, where I had to lay on my front with my arms above my head.

The whole procedure lasted about twenty minutes and was slightly less noisy that the St.Thomas’ machine. Because I knew what to expect I found the breathing out and then holding one’s breath a lot easier to cope with. Halfway through the radiographer said they were now going to inject the marker dye into my arm. Usually you can feel this cold liquid coursing through your veins but this dye must have been at room temperature as I never felt a thing.

SeHCAT SCAN – 29th July 2014 – St.Thomas’

A simple procedure for measuring the level of bile acid malabsorption. It involved a trip to St.Thomas’ Nuclear Medicine Dept. to swallow a radioactive pill and then return three hours later for scans – 5 minutes lying on back and then repeat lying on front. Then a further visit, one week later, for follow-up scans. The system then compares the two and works out how much of the radio active tracer has remained in the system and from that the bile acid absorption.

UPPER GI ENDOSCOPY – Monday 3rd September 2012

Back to St.Thomas’ Hospital, this time for an endoscopy……at least that’s what I thought. Of all the tests I find endoscopies the worst to deal with and would always choose to be fully sedated. The implication of sedation is not being able to drive for 24 hours afterwards and I really needed the car the next day so I took the decision before I went in that I would only have the throat numbing spray and nothing else.

I had assumed that the doctor would just be having a look down my upper GI tract to see what state my varices were in. Wrong! She explained that the intention was, if necessary, to treat the varices by banding, and for this I would need to be sedated. I would also need to have the whole procedure repeated in another three weeks and then again in a further three weeks.

She went through the risks associated and got me to sign the consent form. I then had a cannula inserted in the back of my hand and I was ready for the procedure. After a few minutes I was wheeled into the testing room, had a couple of squirts of throat numbing spray (xylocaine – tastes of burnt bananas), gripped a camera guide between my teeth and then the sedative was injected into the cannula.

Next thing I knew I was lying in Recovery. When I had woken up sufficiently I was given a copy of the endoscopy report that would be sent to my GP. The doctor had found three large varices with high risk stigmata and had applied 6 bands to them. The nurse told me that I must only have liquids for the next 24 hours and then three days of “sloppy” food. Now maybe it’s a man thing, but the sandwiches I had brought with me looked very appetising, so I waited a while and then tucked in, ignoring the nurse’s advice. Maybe stupidity is a better description because it did hurt swallowing and I know not to do it again.

My next Upper GI endoscopy is planned for 18th December 2018 9a nice Christmas treat). It will be the number eleven.