Day 70.. or should I say day 114.

Day 70.. or should I say day 114.

I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis at birth. All my life I have been healthy and happy. I was always the patient to be "In and out" of clinic when I was treated at Blackpool Victoria. Everything was great. My lung function was 80% or above, I had no issues with my blood sugars, my weight was brilliant and without sounding big headed I was the healthiest CF patient at Blackpool Vic.

Blackpool only deal with CF patients up to the age of 17. I still don't know why. After that we are then in the care of the staff at the Adult Cystic Fibrosis Unit at Wythenshawe Hospital.

That was a big step for me. I'd grown up with all the staff at Blackpool, they were like family, so moving somewhere new was quite daunting. New staff, a new ward, new doctors, new ideas, I wasn't looking forward to it at all.
Every 3 months I have routine 2 week course of IV antibiotics to fight any infections I may have. At Blackpool, mum was taught how to do them at home so I didn't have to spend the full 2 weeks in hospital. However, Wythenshawe prefer us to stay in for the full 2 weeks so they know we are getting full and effective treatment, not just with the IV's but with physios and dieticians too.

I can't for the life of me remember the date of my first admission but it was early 2013. I remember walking into the ward, really nervous, but the minute I started talking to one of the nurses, Lisa, I felt completely comfortable. The unit at Wythenshawe is specialised in CF and so are all the doctors and nurses. Whereas at Blackpool, they dealt with all sorts of illnesses. I couldn't believe the rooms and the facilities they had.

So I spent a full 2 weeks in hospital for the first time in over 10 years. After all the treatment I had, I felt the best I had ever felt in a long long time. I was put on different antibiotics and a whole load of other new tablets which was new to me and my body. I think the antibiotics I used to be on at Blackpool had stopped having their desired effect because my body was so used to them.

I felt so energised and motivated. I spent a good few months at home feeling like this. I got back into boxing and started taking that very seriously, training 3 times a week and running twice a week. I was the fittest I had ever been.

Fast forward to August 2013. It was a bad month for me. I started feeling really tired during the day. I would get up for work, do a 3 hour shift and be absolutely exhausted. I would go straight back home, into bed and go to sleep. That was not like
me. I then started becoming short of breath doing simple daily tasks like walking up the stairs and to the shop. I wasn't able to run for as long or maintain the usual amount of exercise I would usually. I knew something was wrong, I'd never experienced this before.
We arranged an appointment at Wythenshawe, they went through all the usual questions and procedures, then did a lung function test on me. I blew 50%.

A 30% decline in such a short period of time was not good. It did scare me as I wasn't used to seeing such low numbers. How can it be so low when I've been doing so much exercise? Is this it now, will I now always blow around the 50% mark? WHAT IS GOING ON!
I was admitted onto the ward the same day. They said I was too unwell to go home. I spent 46 days in hospital. They worked out I had a fungal infection which I was also allergic to. It was described by one of the doctors like "being allergic to cats and having one under your nose 24/7. There is a constant reaction" My airways were reacting to this infection which made them extremely inflamed and become thinner so not as much air was being able to pass through.

That was the longest time I had ever spent in hospital, but I was finally home on the 17th of October. I couldn't wait to get back to college, work, boxing.. normal life!

Then it happened.

I went to bed on Sunday the 19th of October, my stomach full of roast beef, roast and mashed potato, Yorkshire pudding and the tastiest gravy known to man. All made by my amazing nana and grandad. Their culinary skills are remarkable. I had a slight pain in my right shoulder while I was at my nana and grandads, this grew a little worse when I was in bed at home. Id had this sort of pain before so I ignored it and went to sleep, looking forward to going back to college the next day. Through the night the pain grew worse and woke me several times. I continued to ignore it. It then woke me again and so I moved position the most horrendous pain and pressure in my chest developed. My breathing rate became ridiculously fast. On every inhalation the pain and pressure grew stronger. I thought I was having a heart attack. I tried to stand up out of bed but the pain was too unbearable. Then panic set it in. What is happening to me.

I crawled downstairs (My room is a loft conversion) to my mums room, opened her door. "Mum, you need to ring an ambulance". That sentence took an incredible amount of energy to say. She flew out of bed and woke my sister. I can't remember much after that, just little bits like the dog running around me and licking my face thinking I was playing with him! I remember my vision going blurring a number of times and I had tunnel vision. I'm not at all a dramatic person but I honestly thought I was going to die. I was saying to myself "You cannot die here, not infront of your mum and sister. You can't leave everyone. Keep breathing!"

As time passed breathing became increasingly more difficult, to the point where I can't even describe. I remember mum ringing an ambulance and it seemed to take forever to arrive. When they did arrive they tried asking me questions but I was unable to speak. They got me into the ambulance, put a sats probe on me to check me oxygen levels. They were fine. "Your oxygen levels are brilliant Dan, don't worry." I knew that had no relevance to whatever had happened to me but I was unable to say anything.

I was taken into A&E at Blackpool Vic, nurses were asking me a lot of questions which I couldn't answer so I had to write everything down on a piece of paper. They then sat me on a bed and proceeded to do an x-ray. The results came back... my right lung had completely collapsed. This is bad news to anyone, but with me having CF as well, my lungs already being damaged didn't help matters. They then put a small drain in my chest to release all the air. The relief was instant.

I spent 2 nights at Blackpool as the unit at Wythenshawe had no beds available for me. Mum was constantly ringing to see if one had come up. She must've rung 2 or 3 times an hour. It must've drove them mad. She and I knew the best place I could be is in Wythenshawe so we wanted to get there as soon as possible.

Before eventually being transferred to manchester I had to have a bigger drain put in my chest. It isn't the most pleasant thing to have done. Feeling the surgeon pushing the drain in between my ribs, then hearing and feeling the crunch as it went through wasn't too nice. After that I was transferred. I was so happy to be at Wythenshawe, I could relax knowing I was in expert care.

I was told that it could take a couple of weeks before my lung would come back up and the rupture to heal.

I sit here now, week 10 or 11... day 70... last time I was admitted for 46 days. 46 + 70 = 116.
Take away my 2 days at home. 114. Its been an absolute roller-coaster. My lung has come back up, then back down. Then up again. Doctors started to think it was finally healing so they tried a procedure called "pleurodesis" which is where a medical talc is mixed with something so it becomes like a glue. The idea is that they put this glue into my chest via the chest drain, that then coats my lung and aggravates it so it becomes inflamed, then sticks to my chest... it didn't work. That was disappointing to say the least.

Anyway a few days later my lung was still up, so they decided to take the drain out. (All this was done 3 or 4 weeks after I first came in.) As the drain came out there was a sudden "sucking" noise where the hole was. That wasn't good. That was air rushing back into my chest. Anyway, they stitched the hole up and covered it.

It was 5 hours after the drain was removed I started feeling breathless again and the pain started to come back. I requested an emergency x-ray. The results showed that the lung had almost completely collapsed again. That was hard to take... really hard. After having my drain out I thought I was finally on the way to recovery.

After a horrible nights sleep the surgeon came in the morning and inserted another drain. I was gutted, absolutely gutted. Back to square one. I was groggy off the pain killers and just nodding off when someone walked through the door.

Brian Rose, the intercontinental WBO champion came walking into my room followed by his trainer Bobby Rimmer. I've followed Brian for a while and look up to him. He's a great guy and so is bobby. I couldn't believe it. I was completely star struck. It turns out my mum had arranged the whole thing and kept it a secret. Although, all the nurses knew about it! So as they have walked through the door, all the nurses are there staring at me with massive grins on their faces. Mum has her camera out and my sister is almost in tears laughing at me.

That gave me a huge moral boost. Brian and Bobby have been a few more times and I really hope we keep in contact when all this is over with. I can't thank them enough for taking their own time to come down and see me.

Last week the head of BBSA (Blackpool Boxing Supporters Association) got in contact with me. He told me he saw a status Brian had put on Facebook. We were taking for a while, then he said he was giving me, mum and chloe tickets to the charity ball he has organised in July. We will be sitting with Brian too! There will be many big name boxers attending. I couldn't believe it. It is amazing the generosity people have, even when they don't know you, they just know the situation. I thank him greatly. He's always in contact with me now through Facebook. Everyday just a quick message asking how I'm doing.

Doctors don't really know what the best thing is that they can do for me. I want surgery. It is far from ideal because of the high risk of infection, which is made even higher because of my condition. With surgery, I know that it is 100% fixed. I don't have to worry when I'm at home, "is it going to happen again!?" it'll be completely stuck to my chest. Doctors are trying to talk me into doing the pleurodesis again but it didn't work before so why would it work now? At the moment the lung is up halfway. I'm constantly on and off suction though.

The doctors are arranging a meeting to be held with me, mum, a number of surgeons and the doctors to discuss what my options are and what all the risks are. I understand that there are high risks with surgery but I'm sick of waiting now. I've sat here for 70 days.. it's been an emotional roller coaster, good news then bad news. I'm ready for everything to move forward now.

Hopefully this meeting will happen sometime next week. I know they are going to try and use scare tactics to steer me away from surgery but I can't see it happening. My mind is made up.

I thank you for taking your time reading all this. I know my English skills aren't really up to scratch. I know I ramble on a bit but it's hard trying to remember all the exact dates and events.

I hope you had a good new year.