Cancer 203

I am in hospital again, this time for my 40th round of chemotherapy. It almost feels like a birthday, so I deserve a present. I am in early, so hopeful that I will be finished with at a reasonable time and can spend the afternoon in the garden reading. I am still reading Stalingrad, by Vasily Grossman, the precursor to Life and Fate. They are both high on the list of best novels of the 20th Century, with Life and Fate compared to War and Peace which, incidentally, was one of the favourite books of Soviet soldiers during the Second World War. Both Grosman books are over 900 pages, so they will take me a while to get through.

The radiotherapy does not seem to have bee effective. The tumour it was supposed to attack is if anything bigger than it was (perhaps the RT machine was switched to reverse!), and the remaining colon is sensitive and bleeding. the tumour feels ike it is growing around the colon. I asked whether this could be operated on and I was told no, because there are serious bleeding problems. My view is that it is worth the risk, ie dying during the operation, if it might remove the tumour. I asked about what would happen if the tumour was strangulating the colon. Apparently in that case I might be operated on. As the tumour does feel like it is extending both ways around the tumour that might be the end result – end being the key word there if I die on the operating table. It wouldn’t be a bad way for me to go. I would know nothing about it.

I am feeling a little better than I have been. It is common that when I feel a little better I realise how ill I have been. This time I have been ill for a few months, with the chemo being less effective, tumours growing, and then the awful experience of radiotherapy. I know, I am a little ill anyway, but for a few months I have been worse. The criteria regarding illness change when you are ill. I am still taking morphine, though now it is a slow release capsule rather than a liquid. The liquid does have a rapid drunken effect which the capsule doesn’t have. I am not sure whether that is better or worse. Any effect that is like alcohol seems like a good thing.

I am supposed to be taking paracetamol on a permanent basis, four times a day, but I have got a little bored with it and, as I don’t like taking painkillers except where necessary, I would rather do without. The morphine seems to be enough – ish.

I am not injecting myself any more with anti-coagulants. I had a little moan about trying to deal with the injection on top of everything else I have to do every day. It was getting a bit much. Instead I am taking a tablet twice a day. It is much better.

So, I am only on 19 tablets a day at the moment, more during the days of chemotherapy (Tuesday 24, Wednesday 25, Thursday 23, Friday 21). These are the minimum. If I am nauseous, or have problems with diarrhoea or constipation, or even gout, it is more. One day I might get round to listing the drugs I take during my two week cycle, though it might be easier to list those I am not taking.

Yesterday I went on a Facebook page for chemotherapy and its side effects. Reading the impact chemo has on many people I think I am lucky. A lot of people have some very negative effects, from sickness to extreme tiredness. Some say they can’t cope with chemo so they give it up. I get tired and I feel sick on day one, but they are the worst effects I have. Either I am lucky or I am too stupid to notice the side effects – it could be either.

I read an article yesterday regarding the life exectancy of people with my illness. It was a Czech study with 270 participants. The median survival time post-diagnosis was 21 months. I have so far lived 31 months. I could look on this negatively, as it suggests I might not have long left. I, of course, look on it positively. I am have lived longer than most people (yes, it is a competition, though I am not willing others to die of course), and while it may mean I don’t have long left I prefer to think that the 21 month figure was a median score. It says nothing about anyone in the tail ends of the distribution. Perhaps there are people who are living 5 or 10 years. I like to think I will be in that tail.

Optimism reigns, the upper lip has stiffened, and the grip on myself is tight. All is well with the world (and yes, I might be deluded but it is better than the alternative).