Cancer 264
Posted on July 2, 2026 Leave a Comment
Things are getting increasingly difficult. I am now sleeping in an NHS bed in the living room, gettung out using my zimmer frame, and thinking it won’t be long before I cannot get upstairs, and not long until I am unable to drive.
I spent most of the day sitting in my chair roday. I didn’t go out at all. I spenr part of it asleep and the rest of it unproductive apart from a little reading.
The abdomenal pain is getting worse despite the introduction of fentanyl. To cough is painful. I am still eating but not enough to sustain me. My bowels still produce diarrhoea, though today it has been worse. It feels like a stomach bug.
On the positive side I still have lots of support, thoigh I feel terrible about not giving anything back. J spend periods staring into space without the will to change my position. It can only look bad.
I have no idea how long I have, but theoretically I may still receive treatment after meeting the consultant next Wednesday. Could I bear it? People have continually told me how strong I am, what a fight I am putting up but I feel like the British Army after the massacre at the Khyber Pass in rhe 1840s, there is only one soldier left out of 4,000 and he is wounded.
Cancer 263
Posted on June 26, 2026 Leave a Comment
It is not a good idea to look up answers relating to cancer for oneself. It is now fairly clear that I will not be receiving any further chemotherapy so I looked up how long I might have to live given my circumstances. I am sure I haven’t taken important variables into account but the answer I got was a few weeks to a few months. I have already had a few weeks without treatment. Given what I know it still gave me a bit of a shock and the percentage of time I now spend depressed has suddenly increased.
It is not certain yet, and I am seeing the consultant a week on Wednesday but it is likely, given the circumstances relating to my bowels, that I will be solely on palliative care. Things are changing quite quickly now. I saw the palliative care consultant and have had my painkillers increased because the pain around my abdomen is increasing. The bowel is still open, just, but for how long? I have also seen the occupational therapist and my downstairs bed arrives on Sunday, along with wheelchair and 4 wheeled stroller (or whatever it is called) to add to the zimmer frame I got yesterday. My balance is not too great, particularly in the morning.
I am finding it more difficult to type with my tingling and numb fingers. I am having to type over much of what I am typing. Virtually every ‘a’ turns the text into capitals because I can’t control my third finger. I miss keys and lose text, etc.
It is getting difficult to wake up in the morning. It takes me an hour or two to move and I keep falling back to sleep. The new diet works well enough but I am losing interest in food again. It can be an effort to eat at times.
This is not good for me finishing my MA thesis! I have done a little today but whether I can get something acceptable together in whatever weeks I have left is unclear.
One positive, I am still driving, but I am not getting out and running around much at the other end. The kids were up at the weekend and that gave me a boost, but afterwards I was very tired!
I can feel within me that at times the will to live is not there any more, the will to write this blog is weak, but I must still persevere. There is a tiny chance they will offer further treatment and I know, despite the fact that I am aware of the pain that will ensue, I will still go for it. It is very difficult to say no to something, knowing that such a decision can only bring forward the date of death. It is so final.
Cancer 262
Posted on June 19, 2026 Leave a Comment
I had a bit of a crisis the other day. My stoma bag was full so I went to empty it. For those who don’t know this involves leaning over the toilet, releasing the bottom of the bag and squeezing outmthe contents that then hopefully flow into the toilet – always flow for me rather than drop out in lumps as I have constant loose bowels in order for the to work at all – recently they have been pale coloured, but this came out very dark, red as I shortly realised. When the bag emptied I cleaned it up and fastened it, but it seemed to still have contents so I opened it up and this time pure blood flowed out, at quite a rate. At this point I think I am going to have to phone either the emergency cancer numnber or 999. Being me, I am reluctant to do either. The wife came to help, and I took the bag off, expecting flows of blood. Fortunately there weren’t any. The blood had stopped flowing. It comes from the join between the bowel and a tumour at the end of the bowel. It has bled before, but not so badly. I didn’t phone anyone.
Yesterday I had a similar problem, but not as bad. The blood really messes up the faeces. On changing it had stopped bleeding so again I didn’t phone,
I am always reluctant to phone the hospital when I have a problem (usually bowel or pain-related) because I don’t want to go into hospital. I know I am probably wrong, and that they can care for me better there, but I am in hospital so much these days that I find it difficult to cope with going in any more than I have to. I have the view that the problem, whatever it is, will go away. It has worked so far.
I am also finding it more difficult to go to the hospital. After the parking there is the long walk and the long waits. Now I can hardly eat anything it is even worse. I want them to come here. I am seeing the palliative care consultant next week so I will bring this up. They just expect the patient to travel if they are physically able to. But it is more than being physically able, there is an aversion to the hospital – and that is not being critical of any of the workers there who are nearly always magnificent, but it is time for you to come to me, not me to you.
Cancer 261
Posted on June 12, 2026 Leave a Comment
It feels like the end is a step or two closer. My chemo was postponed this week due to potential problems with my bowel. There is a chance that continuing this treatment could lead to a perforated bowel (ie death). I am having a scan on Monday to see what it is lookiing like, but it is unlikely that my treatment will be renewed, in which case I wil be onto palleative care, ie keeping me reasonably stable until the tumours take over (ie death). Another problem, previously discussed, is that of possible bowel strangulation, in which case there is a hospital treatment to relax the bowel and perhaps (perhaps) get it working again for a while. Alternatively, it is death.
In order to keep the bowel moving at least a little bit I have been given a new diet, which basically means that I can’t eat anything that might cause the bowel to clog up. The list of things I cannot eat is too long for a blog, but it includes bread and bread products, wholemeal rice, pasta, etc, any fruits with pips and skin, many vegetables…. I am not going to ever eat a bacon sandwich again. I am not allowed salad greens, tomatoes (unless they are deseeded and skinned), cucumber (unless deseeded and skimmed), onion (unless well cooked). I can eat dairy products. I can eat lamb hotpot, cottage pie (no peas), and corned beef hash. That is good. The problem is I can only eat tiny portions, so I am encouraged to eat little and often. We went to a cafe today. I had a poached egg and a slice of halloumi. My bowel protested that I had eaten too much. I am having liver and mashed potato – and gravy of course – tonight. I must not eat too much. I have been eating cheese omelettes, yoghurt, and egg custard. It is a strange mix but it is almost as though I am going back to the diet of a small boy.
There seems to be new stages starting, that are perhaps to some extent related. People are increasingly supporting the wife (entirely a good and necessary thing, showing what good friends we have). They are probably seeing my deterioration and how she is (remember I am not allowed to go into details!). At the same time there is a start of me being seen as the dying thing rather than myself. No one is to blame here, and of course I might be wrong. I might be starting to feel isolated because I am falling in on myself, erecting barriers to the outside world. People may not know how to react when they see this miserable entity stuck in the corner of the room covered with a blanket in June. I don’t blame them. But underneath the barriers I do still exist. Remember the BBC’s, ‘Does he take sugar?’.
If I had a chance of recovery I am sure I would recover to my previous normal self. I would interact with people as I did, be as controversial and inane as I was, and so on. I am still here, but my arms and legs are not working as well as they were even a couple of months ago, chemo brain is getting more serious, it is more difficult to type and button up my shirts, my abdomen hurts much more than it did, my bowels are eternally loose, and only work with continual laxatives. I am falling apart, so it is no wonder some people don’t know how to be with me. If you are nervous about visiting don’t be. I am still open to visitors. It is not even necessary now to bring food treats, though I am still allowed chocolate pudding and custard, and chocolate – but nothing with fruit in it (no change there). I just can’t eat much – though that makes it a good diet for anyone who wants to lose weight. On a good day I might have 1,000 calories.
My favourite bit about the diet is that I should always have a lot of custard and gravy, something I have been telling the wife for over 30 years!
Cancer 260
Posted on June 4, 2026 Leave a Comment
I wish typing didn’t hurt so much. It is unpleasant, and my fingers systematically hit the wrong buttons, slowing me down, particularly having to make constant corrections.
I learned something new today. I have worried for a long time about my tumours crushing and blocking my bowel. I only ooze liquid now. It is probably partly to do with the morphine, but I sense it is a tumour. I asked today what would happen if the bowel does become blocked by a tumour? I would be taken to hospital and my bowel given a rest by feeding by intravenously. I might also need a tube into the stomach. A few days of that might make the bowel work again. I asked about the alternative, staying at home. I would not be able to get this treatment. If I had the treatment but it didn’t work is there anything else? No, and if the bowel isn’t working then I cannot live.
I still maintain that I don’t fear death – it is nothingness – but I do fear dying, I fear the pain. I was told today that there are several options relating to pain relief at the end of life, but I am not sure how it would work. Presumably it wouldn’t be effective until it is a lethal dose. That is what I will aim for anyway.
The home option does involve an array of palliative care people who will administer the pain relief ad do whatever else is necessary. I am seeing the palliative care consultant on Monday, so I will find out more then.
In the meantime, my stoma bag has contents that need clearing. Long may that last.
Dr Nigel Hunt 