Skip to main content

Cath-dry dressing trial

I ordered some CathDry dressings at the start of the year with the plan to start going swimming again but my recent hospital stay meant that I never actually got round to using them. I’ve been packing stuff for my holiday and when I was sorting through all the medical stuff I need to take I came across them. The house we are staying in for the first week has its own pool and last year I had to sit on the side watching everyone else having fun in the water. So I decided to pack the CathDry dressings incase I decide I want to go in. 

But because I’ve never actually used one before I thought it would be a good idea to have a trial run at home. So this morning I put one on and jumped in the shower. I was still hooked up to my feed so had to feed the giving set wire back out of the dressing so I wasn’t expecting it to be watertight… but it was! I was only in the shower for 10 minutes but when I got out my Hickman line was completely dry! 


(Yes, I’m aware it looks like a condom for my line 🤣🤣)

One thing I like about these dressings is that they have a moisture detector. So if water gets past the adhesive the ring changes colour from white to red. This makes sure you know when you need to get out of the water before your line gets wet and potentially bugs get in. 

I’m not sure if I will go in the pool or the sea while I’m away but the thing is that this year is the first year in 8 years that I actually have a choice. One of the worst things about this illness is that it takes away your choices and often dictates what your able to do (or not do). So to be given the choice back is empowering. I just want to say thank you to Kim at FEAR (Face Everything And Rise) because it was through her website that I learnt about CathDry dressings. Watching her use them gave me the encouragement to order some and hopefully I will get back into the water soon. If anyone is thinking about trying them you can get a free sample through the website and then they’re available on NHS prescription. 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Light at the end of tunnel

I’m sat writing this blog post in St Marks, the specialist bowel hospital in London. So much has happened in the last few weeks; it’s all been a bit of a whirlwind. But I finally feel like there is some hope at the end of the tunnel. Let me tell you why.  At the beginning of June I was admitted yet again to QMC in Nottingham with huge amounts of pain, my bowels not working properly and just feeling generally unwell. I had only been home a couple of weeks since the admission in May but I had been feeling so rubbish most of my time had been spent in bed. I had tried everything I could to stay at home but the pain had become so bad I was barely able to stand or take a few steps on my own.  I had expected to maybe be in for a week or two to get stronger pain meds and get back on my feet but I ended up being in for almost a month. They put me on morphine injections and ketamine but then stopped them when my heart rate dropped to 30 beats per minute and my breathing to 7 breaths a minute. Th

The light at the end of the tunnel is a train

Last week was a busy and pretty crappy week for me health wise. I had to go and have blood tests done with the nutrition nurses and I had two hospital appointments; one with the gallbladder surgeon in Nottingham and the other with colorectal surgeon at St Marks. I was hoping to have at least one surgery date to write in the diary following these appointments but I came home empty handed on both occasions. Here’s what happened.  I began noticing over the last few weeks that I’ve started feeling really crappy. I’m feel lucky to have been at home for the last 6 months and I have been the most well I have been for years but it felt like things had shifted slightly recently but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But years of being sick means I know my body and I can tell when something isn’t right. I have been feeling permanently exhausted and having way more bad days than good. I’ve gone back to spending 2, 3 or more consecutive days in bed, unable to do anything but watch tv and sleep.

The wrong size line

I’m on the M1 heading back to Nottingham after a road trip to St Marks to get my line repaired. But this is me, and as usual it wasn’t a smooth ride. More like a bloody shit show. So what happened? Let me tell you… After being admitted to QMC in Nottingham on Sunday with a broken Hickman line I was taken down to Interventional Radiology on Monday afternoon to get my line repaired. Firstly, I couldn’t believe it was happening so quickly and secondly I didn’t want to get too excited because, well it’s me, and usually things don’t go according to plan. And sadly I right to rein in the excitement.  When the doctor came to consent me for the procedure it was for a replacement, not a repair. I assumed he had made a mistake so I told him I was there to get my line repaired and was definitely not there for a new one. He looked at me and said “I hate to be the bearer of bad news…” and that’s a sentence that never bodes well. He then went on to say that they didn’t have any repair kits and that