Changeover Day again, Sarah gets to go home and I get to stare at the Salvation Army building across the road and ponder the eternal fate of the cretinous monsters that wrote the script for Paw Patrol.
Kip’s had a couple of temperatures today but, when I arrive, he seems in good form. That lasts a couple of hours until he gets sleepy and promptly heats himself to 39.4C. Blood samples are taken and paracetamol administered, but he’s spent the last hour and a half wriggling around obviously in some discomfort from it. It doesn’t help that the room is baking – clearly the calibre of central heating designers matches the standards of prose in Paw Patrol. I really do hate that programme.
Another issue over the last couple of days has been Kip’s vascoport, the wonderful little fixture just under his skin that he had fitted about three years ago that allowed him to go to the pool and have a proper bath but still maintain the ability for drugs to be administered straight into his veins without a cannula in the hand. Well since Friday we haven’t been able to get it to work, so tomorrow is a proper plumbing job to get some blood out of it and saline and heparin into it (and I dare say some antibiotics as well, just to be sure). If that doesn’t work we might have to look at removing it, which would be an unpleasantly early bit of surgery. I thas to come out one day, but we were hoping it would be a little further down the road.
The beginning of the week should bring us the biopsy results and the blood chimersim (the ratio of donor cells in the bone marrow), and maybe some more answers as to what this poor boy is enduring right now. The fevers won’t go away, so we need a plan.
Hopefully I can post some answers tomorrow. And maybe, if the universe is feeling kind, Paw Patrol will be accidentally deleted from Netflix.