Life in the fast lane

Oldham Chronicle managing editor Dave Whaley

The Chronicle’s managing editor continues the saga of his cancer treatment

I HAVE just spent three nights at one of the most amazing, all-inclusive, 24/7 places within the National Health Service: the Manchester Royal Infirmary’s high dependency unit.

You don’t book, you only get through the doors by special invitation and they have one aim: to keep you alive.

I received my invite courtesy of a complex throat operation to get rid of my cancerous vocal cords and their surrounding cartilage, plus a touch of reconstruction to shrink the area in such a way that eventually I will be able to both eat and speak without artificial help.

While the theatre knives were being sterilised for future use I was whisked off to take up residence in one of the MRI’s 52 luxury HDU suites. Okay I’m joking, but I was understandably nervous...

Truth is, this is like sleeping in the middle of the M60. All “guests” are wired for sound, with banks of machines recording every flickering statistic. Observing and reacting when necessary is an incredible team of nurses.

Never again am I going to take myself seriously if I walk through the door at home to claim I have had a tough day at work. I was in awe: good job really, because I could do little but lie there and let it all happen. And boy, did it happen.

To see the whole team leap into action when the “stopped breathing” alarm blasts out is chillingly amazing. I bet I wasn’t the only invited guest thinking “that could have been me.” It was all too real.

It happened twice while I was in there. One didn’t make it and the other was brought back from the brink and taken to the exclusive ICU suite for further care.

The nurses here will never get attached; they haven’t the time. There is a constant moving canvas of those stable enough to go back to a ward and their replacements from wards and operating theatres.

The dedication is total. Those who plotted my way back towards normality included an unflappable Buxton lass, Claire Mahoney, who was my guardian on more than one shift. Plus night owl Lindsay Hall and the methodical Ruth Potter who, as well as doing her own job was training newcomer Nadia Doran.

I name only a few but I salute them all.

Healthwise I am doing OK. Well, better than OK. To be honest, bloody brilliantly!

I am ahead of the game. This was expected to be several days in HDU then several weeks on the ward.

I have been “nil by mouth” since the operation, which means breathing through a temporary tracheostomy and being fed through a stomach tube.

I have amazed myself at the way I have picked up the disciplines required.

I look down from my second-floor ward on to a courtyard, and have set myself a goal to walk around it very soon.

So what a week that was. I’ve had a couple of setbacks, mainly linked to diet and coughing-induced sickness. It’s a very emotional road. I was discussing with dietician Hannah about how far I had come and burst into tears.

I decided to man-up by watching “Skyfall” on a borrowed mobile DVD player — except I was blubbing again when “M” didn’t make it.

Hell, I’m doing it again on the tear-stained keys.

So keep smiling.