I’ve decided to write this due to events that occurred earlier in the week and are presently ongoing. It has been a difficult week for my family due to my health but for myself, I’m not too stressed. As the very old cliché goes, “no brain no pain.”
The real catalyst to motivate me to write this was that I was so totally humbled by the care and attention that was offered me at the Emergency Services unit in the Coimbra University Hospital (CHUC).
Both Rozanne and I have been aware that something was not quite right with my health for the past few years but it could not be pinned down. From the beginning of the year it started to become more apparent there were problems when we both decided to take on the challenge of a weight loss and healthier regime. Probably our first mistake. We did this with gusto and to our joy immediately started to see the benefits in terms of both fitness and weight loss. We took exercise in the form of a daily light workout in the morning and a walk in the evening. We live in a very hilly area so any walking is a challenge. I even made the sacrifice of cutting back on alcohol, especially whisky. Probably my second mistake. However, in early February my heart rate suddenly went from its usual 60 beats to above 150 overnight. Of course, I immediately trotted off to see our family doctor, who is always available even during COVID, one of the many advantages of living in sunny Portugal. He sent me off for echocardiography and a 24-hour halter. This showed that I now have arrhythmia and a high resting heart rate but there was nothing drastically physically wrong with my heart. I was therefore booked in to see a cardiologist. These appointments were often delayed as in this was the case at the height of the first peak of COVID. My appointment was in fact only due this past week.
Meanwhile, we continued with our diet and exercise regime. I found when I was working in the garden that my energy levels had dropped and one day while walking I developed drop foot on the right leg. Needless to say, as I was planning to see the doctor later this month, we continued life as normal. I was so proud of my weight loss and assumed the hard knot developing in my stomach was muscle. My third mistake. Little did I know it was not a six-pack but a crate and I should have sought urgent medical help. As you get older we stupidly put things off. I did not want to be taken for a hypochondriac. The result is that the whole health issue came to a head last week.
Earlier in the month, Rozanne and I went to visit friends in the Algarve, including one receiving cancer treatment and also spent time in a luxury hotel suite for a week kindly given to us by friends from Scotland. They were unable to travel and offered us to take up their regular timeshare for FREE. What Scotsman can resist that offer!
On the second day of the trip, that was a week ago last Tuesday, in the afternoon I told Rozanne that I was feeling rather unwell and decided to lie down in the afternoon. She went off to do some necessary purchases and we agreed to meet later. Not long after she left I found I was struggling to breathe and could only do so if I stood up or at the very least held an upright sitting position. My chest was emitting a sort of gurgling sound when I exhaled and my breathing was exceedingly short. In fact, my Dutch friend Erik called me just after the worst of it and I informed him that I must’ve just had a panic attack and it must be something to do with my old age. Being seventy I put everything down to age. My fourth mistake. Rozanne then called me and I agreed to meet her on the beach for a drink as I felt slightly better and thought the walk may help clear my chest.
The walk to the beach did make me feel better and improved my breathing no end but later I had a very difficult night. Most of the night was spent sitting up as I could not breathe when I lay down. The next day Rozanne had a migraine and I was the one who had to visit the shops. In doing so I walked roughly 4 km without any breathing difficulties but that evening on retiring once again I had extreme breathing difficulties. Having no symptoms similar to COVID other than the breathing problems, we ruled that out. I had no cough, I had taste and smell and no chest pain. Rozanne was keen for me to visit the doctor but as we had some other tasks to do while in the Algarve I insisted we wait until we got home. The fifth mistake. So, the days were spent in reasonable comfort but the nights were sleepless and mostly upright.
On Sunday evening on our return home, I had deteriorated and by the next morning, it was now obvious that I was seriously ill. Rozanne called the emergency advice service on SNS24 and outlined the problems I was having. The lady at the end of the line, who spoke fluent English and was most helpful, went through my symptoms to ensure that there was little likelihood of it being COVID. She then instructed Rozanne to take me to the emergency unit at Coimbra University Hospital (CHUC), by car as it would be quicker than calling an ambulance. Meanwhile, she said she would phone the emergency unit to expect us thus ensuring that I could receive immediate attention. On arrival we found this to be true and within less than five minutes of driving up to the hospital, I was on oxygen and being cared for. For the rest of the day I was attended to the whole time while being treated, tested, examined, scanned, x-rayed, invaded and goodness knows what else - all very much beyond my comprehension. Care and empathy were unbelievable. A benefit of being there for the full day allowed me to see what happens in the lives of these dedicated medical professionals every day. Any TV programme I have seen does not seem to convey the work ethics and dedication of these people. There are no seats in the emergency rooms so during the 12 hours shift, other than meal breaks these people were on their feet attending patients for the full period. Of course, some of the arriving patients, especially those with self-inflicted ailments due to drinking or drugs, including other challenges did not necessarily appreciate the good care and attention on offer. This instigated their ire both loudly and sometimes violently.
For myself, the medical team identified a large growth suspected to be a Gastrointestinal stromal tumour (GIST). Initially, they wanted to remove it that night. It is bigger than my bladder, 17cm wide. But on referral a panel of surgeons advised against it as my lungs were full of fluid, my heart had suffered an injury due to failure, my heart rate was still very high and I had been on blood-thinning medication. They, therefore, decided to immediately start treatment so that I would be capable of having the proposed operation. Once they had stabilised me at about 7 pm that evening they released me. Presently due to COVID, they like to release patients from the hospital as early as possible.
This is when, after such a humbling experience, I thought people should be aware of my own experience and also perhaps even follow through the proposed treatment process. I teased the idea out with Rozanne and then with my children and to my surprise said we could perhaps tell my story of what happens during my treatment and what people with cancer can expect and a little more. For those of you that do not know, this is my second challenge from cancer. I have treated 3 years ago for prostate cancer and for that received brachytherapy in South Africa which has been successful to date.
Many of my closest friends have recently died of cancer and many more are being treated. Some of them, active friends of mine on Facebook.
Then I thought from my early years in Scotland until I finally left Africa in 2017 I have had many experiences I would like to share. Farming, although hard in Africa was the easier of the many roles I have had. Finding both management and financial resources and financing agricultural projects was much more stressful than farming, but also rewarding. Successfully funding commercial agricultural enterprises in Africa is a great challenge.
I have many memories of experiences and much more importantly met many people who have made a difference in Africa with little or no recognition for their endeavours. Just like the team in Coimbra University Hospital. I also admit to meeting a few slippery and dishonest characters. As I am about to fully retire at the end of the year by writing and sharing these experiences will at least give me something to do, even if others find it of little interest. To facilitate this, I will be setting up a blog, which will include my contributions, but allow for the views of others to be included.
Initially, it will be about where I came from, my family and my present ongoing treatment process. Later there will be no subject limit and contributions will be welcome especially where there are differing views from breeds of best cattle, regenerative agriculture and agricultural practices. Waste and the environment are very sensitive subjects when they can impact on our cost of living and lifestyle. But they need more exposure. There will be no personal abuse allowed or any illegal matter posted, but the positive and constructive debate is more than welcome.
To help organise this project and keep it on track, and myself being basically very lazy, I have put an UNPAID team together to assist in getting it going. It is as follows:
Supervisor and administrator my wife, Rozanne
Web design and ethics my daughter, Storm
Editor and motivator my daughter, Janine
Technical and ideas contributor my son, Selby
Their technical knowledge in modern communications puts me to shame. They can also spell in English which I cannot really speak.
To round off this introduction, I would like to share with you my Cardiologist’s parting words.
“I am happy we will have your heart ready to withstand the operation but you have a very tough fight ahead of you.”
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
An inspiring introduction to a life well lived! Obviously, I'm biased but I can't wait to hear how the story continues.