Dr Nigel Hunt

Cancer 204

Posted on August 19, 2025     Leave a Comment

I am not looking on the bright side at the moment. The last few days have been painful. It is the stoma, or specifically the end of the colon which is sore. It is difficult when you have a sore bit of the body that is constantly being covered by shit. I try to clean it regularly but it is impossible to keep clean at all times.

I am on a buildup of painkillers. I take zomorph, a slow release morphine, twice a day, and paracetamol when required. It isn’t enough, so I spoke to the GP yesterday and he is subscribing oromorph again, liquid morphine, which I can use more or less at will to control the pain. I am not at the stage yet of just swigging it down but I can feel it coming. It is not that the pain is unbearable like gout, but it is a constant soreness, and it means I try to protect my stomach area from other people – don’t go into crowds, don’t bang it anywhere. Pain grinds you down over time, particularly when you know there is no recovery, that it is just going to get worse. There may be more periods that are painfree, but the general path is downhill.

Adding to this, I am off to the hospital today (three times this week in total) to have my stoma checked, but also to have my bloods checked regarding the thinners that are in place because of the stoma problem. If the tablets I am taking for this are not effective, then I may need to go back to giving myself a daily injection. I am not sure I can do that. I know, it is only an injection, but it may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. When I was doing the injections I was dreading it all day, when I did them they did become painful because I am restricted in which areas of the abdomen I can use – one side is taken up by that sore stoma. The injection is supposed to be in a different place every day. I may be big, but I am not that big!

I have always tried to come across as positive, but there are limits. I do try to go along with medical advice – these people know a lot more than me and I trust them – but I am on 16-27 tablets a day (depending on cycle), along with chemo three days every fortnight, removing my own chemo needle/bottle, a blood test at least every fortnight, regular emptying and changing of the stoma bag, and various other hospital visits, it can become a bit much – again, particularly because there is no hope except perhaps a little more time.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t had much sleep. I have been up most of this night, and the two nights before that. I get intermittent sleep, the odd hour or two, or even five minutes or so, once or twice in the night. It is now 0530. I slept well until after midnight, after which I got up and have been sitting downstairs since then. In half an hour the alarm will go and I need to get ready to go to the hospital to ensure I get there by 0730 so I can get a parking space. At least my two appointments today are 0830 and 0900. I should get away quite quickly.

On the positive side, there has to be a positive side, we have had good BBQs over the weekend, three days running, and we are off out for lunch three times this week. I am still a little bit of a social animal, and I am still useless at restricting my food intake because of my stoma or my cancer. Just don’t punch me in the stoma. Oh, I am also thinking of doing an MA degree.

Cancer 203

Posted on August 12, 2025     Leave a Comment

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).