Cancer 137
Posted on August 15, 2024 1 Comment
The Combined Day Unit (CDU) where I receive my treatment flooded on Tuesday, so all appointments were cancelled. I assumed that I would miss the treatment, that my timetable for the next few weeks would become muddled, and that it may well delay my treatment break when we are hoping to get away on holiday. Norther Germany as you are asking. Fortunately, I received a telephone call yesterday, saying that my treatment was rescheduled to today, Thursday, which means cancelling our weekend with the kids, as I will not have the bottle removed until Saturday.
It is all excitement with cancer treatment. The main rule I have learned is not to make solid advanced plans, as they will often have to be cancelled. Booking accommodation and ferries has cost us money in the past, only to have to cancel them with no refund—bear in mind I cannot easily get travel insurance to cover these things. When staring death in the face, insurance companies run a mile.
Talking of death, I don’t seem to be very good at doing it. I feel healthier now than at any time since my diagnosis. I know I am not really, I am probably just more used to feeling like this, but leave me in my dream world. My plans for the future are expanding. Not only am I hoping to achieve date-related milestones, but I have at least three novels to write. I am just embarking on an advanced novel writing course which should see me complete a draft of one of these novels. I am burning to get on to the second one, which is resting at 40,000 words, and I think will be easier to complete in a meaningful way. I have no idea whether any of these novels will be published in my lifetime. It doesn’t matter, though it would be nice. My only ambition as a teenager was to write a book. I have done that 10 times over, but I don’t have a novel to my name. Perhaps I should rewrite these blogs.
Cancer 136
Posted on August 10, 2024 Leave a Comment
All goes on as normal. My bloods are more or less the same as usual, with the cancer marker slightly elevated, but nothing to worry about apparently so I won’t worry. It has been between 3 and 4 for a long time, now it is between 4 and 5. my 24th treatment is authorised for next Tuesday, so I will go into the hospital, prepared as usual for a long day sitting in an uncomfortable chair with poisons pumping through me, ready to feel fine for the first couple of hours and then an increasing feeling of sickness, which will last throughout the day and night and will hopefully be reduced by Wednesday morning. I will have my bottle attached until Thursday and then be free again for the next six days, when hopefully I won’t have too many side effects other than tiredness and perhaps diarrhoea. The 24th treatment. I will then have an extra week off because of the bank holiday, then my 25th treatment, and then hopefully I will take a six week break so my body can recover a little and we can go on a proper holiday.
Life. This is it forever, or as long as the drugs keep the cancer at bay. The routine does drag when I think about it, and trying not to think about it obviously means I think about it. Along with the routine there is the stoma, which means carrying around – never forgetting – a stoma changing kit and finding somewhere to be able to make the changes. And there is the tube that comes out of my chest and has to be taped down so it doesn’t dangle too badly and get caught up where it shouldn’t.
I have a big bag of goodies when we go anywhere. There is not only the stoma kit (which is fairly complicated) but also the drugs for my heart, my permanent antibiotics, and the drugs for when things go wrong such as anti-diarrhoea tablets, anti-sickness tablets and painkillers. Not forgetting the cleaning materials, dressings, tape, and so on. It surprises me that I don’t forget things more often. I did forget my heart drugs and antibiotics when we were in Yorkshire for a couple of nights this week. It doesn’t seem to have adversely affected me, though I haven’t slept much since (2-3 hours a night).
It does get to be a drag at times. I have never been one for spending too much time dealing with my body, but now I have to. Sometimes, when I think this is forever I just want it over with. Fortunately, by over with I am more likely to mean a miraculous cure than suicide, as I remain generally optimistic (and entirely unrealistic!).
Cancer 135
Posted on July 30, 2024 Leave a Comment
Another day in the Combined Day Unit, or cancer ward. As usual I have managed to make the day not drag by reading and writing, but again as usual the strategy has gradually failed as I start to feel more sick and my head gets a little hazy.
I am now at the stage where the drip bags are nearly empty. The nurses keep resetting them for a couple of minutes at a time and I am getting anxious to be off. I arrived at the hospital seven and a half hours ago and have been sitting in this chair for five hours. It is ok when I feel fine, but not now. I am sure some of the sicky feeling is having had two cakes while sitting here. I am my own worst enemy.
There is some messiness around the entry point of my Hickman line, so before I go the sutures will be removed. That is bound to sting a little and not what I want at the end of the day.
I am now being flushed, ensuring all the drugs are in me and hopefully doing their job. Once that is finished I can have the bottle attached, two days of a nuisance, bottle attached to the tube which enters my chest. I have to be careful so as not to catch it anywhere, which rather restricts my actions.
It is also very hot in here, very uncomfortable. Still, I look around and there are several people in a worse state than me. That’s what I have to look forward to. Whoopee.
Cancer 134
Posted on July 27, 2024 Leave a Comment
A happy trip to see the consultant yesterday. Had a bit of a cold so I worried that I would have to undergo a COVID test. I am ‘lucky’ because I have only had two tests, but I can hardly stand them. Having a sharp stick several metres up my nose is pretty unbearable, and I am speaking as someone who has undergone and is undergoing some pretty nasty procedures.
The only things I have found worse than a COVID test are having a camera up my backside and having the major operation to remove my cancer. I really don’t mind the endless needles that are stuck into me, dragging blood out or putting drugs in, even having a plastic tube sticking out of my chest is better than things being poked where they shouldn’t.
Perhaps it is a Freudian thing. As a man I want to poke rather than be poked.
Anyway, I managed not to sniffle or cough during my consultation. I obtained the results of my CT scan and there are no significant changes to the little lumpy bastards in my abdomen. The cancer has again failed to grow. The scan also showed that my hernia by my stoma is unchanged. I have been worrying about that as I get bloated and there is sometimes pain and what feels like stretching. I suppose it is just eating too much as usual. My bloods were fairly normal, so I have functioning organs. All well.
The best bit was the one bit of advice I was given. Eat more protein. I have been telling the wife that vegetarian days are not healthy for men. Now she will have to listen. It is formal medical advice being given to a seriously ill individual. I love vegetables, but they need to be accompanied by meat. And don’t tell me there are vegetables containing protein, we all know it is not proper protein.
Happiness is medical advice to eat more meat.
Cancer 133
Posted on July 21, 2024 Leave a Comment
Perhaps going abroad with cancer is not all it is cracked up to be. I had rather an unpleasant morning today. Needing to avoid Amsterdam – one day is surely enough for anyone – we headed to a fishing village on the Ijsselmeer. It was a bit touristy but hey, we are tourists. We had booked a meal at an old smokery, six generations of men producing fine smoked fish. Unfortunately this morning I felt terribly bloated, along with my stoma bleeding and painful. Inevitably, I wondered whether this is how it feels when the cancer grows. We were walking past lots of food places and I just didn’t want to eat. Is this it? Crashing out in Northern Holland, unable to get home?
Or was It that I had been overeating, eating slightly strange foods, and basically overdoing it for the last couple of days?
It was the latter. By the time we had to go to the smokery I was ready to eat something. I was careful, a platter of smoked fish with bread and salad. I turned down the chips. And only two chocolates with a cup of tea.
Afterwards was a bit difficult. Walking round Edam my stoma filled quickly. I had to change it in the car. Pure liquid. It looked like a French curry. We set off home and only got a few miles before it filled again. The joys. I changed it by the side of the road.
I am cancelling my planned trip back to Amsterdam tomorrow. Too many potential negative consequences. Instead I will venture forth into the countryside again, leaving the wife to the evils of the big city.
I have lost much of what made my life worthwhile, but I still manage to retain many elements. One of these is food. Losing the ability to enjoy food would be very difficult. For a few hours today I thought that was it. Fortunately it was only temporary, but I do need to change my diet a little. More meat, salad and vegetables, fewer potatoes, less rice and bread.
We will see
Dr Nigel Hunt 