Cancer 89
Posted on November 27, 2023 Leave a Comment
It has been a somewhat rough few days and still is. After my chemo on Tuesday I felt awful, but better the following day. There is a build-up of the niggling things. My stoma is sore and has leaked a couple of times, which is a little embarrassing. I have felt nauseous, which is unusual for me, though it hasn’t yet stopped me from eating! I think appetite will be the last thing to go. My rash is nothing like as bad as it was but it is still there, on my head and across my chest. The area around my PICC line is very sore, and I can’t stop scratching it. I know, just stop it, but it isn’t easy. I have also started to have problems with my fingertips. This is a standard side effect, but the tips feel very sore, and the skin is breaking. It makes it difficult to peel an orange, and some of my fingerprint-controlled apps on my phone don’t work, presumably because my fingerprints have changed. The strange effects of cancer treatment! Who would have guessed that cancer can lead to an inability to open a bank account app?
I have a CT scan later today to check how my innards are after another half dozen treatments. This means I cannot eat for four hours beforehand, but I am meant to drink a pint of squash a little before so that I have a full bladder. I always have a full bladder. I assume it is due to ridding my body of all these breakdown products. Anyway, it means yet another trip to the hospital.
Chemotherapy treatment costs vary, but a round can be around £30,000. I am coming to the end of my second round (13 cycles or treatments) so I have cost perhaps £60,000 plus my operation, several weeks in hospital and so on. Am I worth it? Is this the best way of spending money on the NHS or should more focus be placed on those who might actually be cured? After all, I am not going back to work. What is my value as a member of society? OK, don’t all shout at once about what an upright and respected person I have been throughout my life and how I now should be rewarded in my twilight months/years for the good I have done for the world.
I do wonder though about NHS resources. There obviously isn’t enough money to pay for everything that could be done for people, but we don’t have any national debates about what we should be focusing on. I am not convinced that we should be keeping dying people alive, but on the other hand, it should not all be about economics, focusing on those who can get well enough to return to their jobs and pay their taxes. There may be procedures the state should not be involved in, but equally, there are also elements that should be NHS funded but are not, such as much of dentistry and eye care.
There is overall quality of life to consider. Given the circumstances, I have a good quality of life, despite what I said earlier.
I love the NHS, it does wonders, but we should have a national debate about what it should be doing, at least partly because drugs and equipment are now so expensive, and the drivers are often the pharmaceutical companies trying to sell their latest offerings rather than scientists, medics, philosophers and others trying to determine the most effective use of the resources we have. Of course, if the rich and big businesses paid the taxes they are supposed to pay then it would ease the pressure considerably. I know, not going to happen.
Cancer 88
Posted on November 21, 2023 Leave a Comment
It is approaching the end of the day in the Chemo ward. It was very busy earlier but people are disappearing and it is starting to feel like closing time in a deserted pub – not that I really remember what that is like. It is getting on for four years since I have experienced a late night in a pub. How times change. I am on the last half hour of the third intravenous drug. They were delivered late again today. I am not convinced by the effectiveness of the pharmacy in this hospital. The same thing happened last time.
I have written a little of my novel today, the first time for a few weeks. I feel I know where it is going so I hope to write a little every day. I got through the battle of Hopton Heath, where the royalist Earl of Northampton was killed. Surprisingly, the hero of the book, Jake, was involved in that. I am not convinced that his relationship with Alice is going too well. We will see about that.
I rewatched All Quiet on the Western Front the other night when I couldn’t sleep. It is one of the many disappointing films of recent years. On second watching it remained disappointing. First, it is not All Quiet on the Western Front. The plot bears little relation to the book. I know variation is normal, but this has no similarities apart from the names of a few characters. Second, there is a scene where the Germans have attacked the French trenches and are themselves attacked by French tanks coming from the German trenches! Does the director think people are stupid? It is obvious they come from the German lines because the Germans use the firesteps in the French trench to fire on them. Third, why would Kat walk several hundred metres to go for a waz? He is a soldier and a bloke, he would just piss in the field. I won’t go on. It goes into the same category as 1917 and Dunkirk, dire films from start to finish.
Anyway, being sleepless at night does provide opportunities to watch films, but I should make better choices. Anyway, books provide better visuals. I hope my novel does once it is finished – except for the sex scenes of course.
Ten minutes later. Wow! A man came and sat next to me. I heard his name, looked at him, and asked if he worked at H Hunt & Sons. He did. He was my foreman in the distant days of being a bricklayer. I last saw him in 1981 but he still looked the same, if a little older. What a strange world. He told me the boss only died last year. I thought he was old when I worked there. We had a bit of a chat, reflecting on the decades and current life.
It is an interesting world. I think I will stay around a little longer.
Cancer 87
Posted on November 18, 2023 Leave a Comment
Until yesterday I thought I was heading to my 12th amd final chemotherapy before my Christmas break, but apparently there is time to fit in a 13th before we go away. Fortunately I am not superstitious.
My treatment still appears to be going well. I am a model patient. My latest blood tests are boring and normal. My side effects are relatively insignificant. In a couple of weeks I have a CT scan to see whether my growths are growing or not. All being well I take my 6 week break, leave the country for the first time since last Christmas, and probably return to more of the same treatment in January.
At least I will have my PICC line removed for a few weeks. It does get to be a bit of a drag, having a line 50cm into a vein with several cm sticking out connected to a plug and covered with a stretch bandage for 6 months.
I am hoping the break will have a positive effect, draining out all the poisons, the drugs, and whatever other gunk is in there, without allowing the cancer to grow.
Unfortunately, when we go away, I still have to take my pharmacy and my stoma kit. It is a good job we have a large car.
How do I feel about getting away? Very good, thank you. I’ll send you a postcard.
Cancer 86
Posted on November 10, 2023 Leave a Comment
I learned fairly early on in my adult life that it is best to not have any regrets about what I had done, the choices I made, and so on. It has worked well for me over the years, and I believe has contributed to my generally positive outlook on life. Regrets mess up people’s lives.
There have been many occasions where I could have experienced regret, from large life-changing events to the minor everyday things that affect us all. Some have been under my control, others haven’t. A good example of the former is being born a little late and being sent to a comprehensive school. I did well at primary school. I was in the top class, sitting on the top table with the others who liked to race through the maths exercise books. I enjoyed it, but then I was sent to a school which had been a grammar school. It was set around an old hall, with massive grounds, with endless sports fields. Unfortunately, it had been turned into a comprehensive school a few years earlier and was full of frustrated grammar school teachers, dusty untouched Latin books on high shelves, and pupils with a very wide range of abilities and behaviours. It didn’t take long for me to slip down the academic rankings, and leave school with two O levels (Meths and English language, both C grades).
I detest the comprehensive system. Putting people of all abilities and interests into the same classroom is a disaster. The tripartite system in place (supposedly in place, where were the technical schools?) before then was ideal, but it was better than what followed. It makes sense to put the academically bright kids together in grammar schools. It makes sense to put the technologically minded kids in a technical school. These are very separate groups, and – not wanting to be controversial of course – there will be more girls in the former and more boys in the latter. The real problem with the tripartite system was the secondary moderns. These often ended up being sink schools which did little good for education or preparing people for adulthood. If we did reintroduce a selective system then we need to recognise that many people should be leaving school much earlier, starting apprenticeships and training, going to college on day release where necessary, and getting on with their lives. Many people are not interested in reading for pleasure or have a need for complex mathematics. Let them get on with working and earning money. One of the problems with the system was transferring from one type of school to another. People mature at different ages (not to be controversial but girls are usually years ahead of boys), so it should not be fixed that the selection at 11 years is final.
Sorry, getting distracted. What I meant to say is that I have no regrets about going to a comprehensive school, though I can be angry about it. The anger is not about me, it is about the crap system. I ended up leaving at 16 and getting a job as an apprentice bricklayer. It was just a job so I could earn money to go to gigs and pubs – underage drinking was normal then. Nobody asked for ID, and if the landlord knew you someone else would buy the drinks. My Dad was a joiner so I understood something of the building trade. When I was sent to college I ended up helping other apprentices with their academic work, as many of them struggled with basic maths, etc. The teachers realised I was brighter than most and suggested further study to improve. my prospects.
I eventually realised bricklaying was not for me, walked off-site, and decided to do a PhD in psychology. The choice was only because I had just read some psychology books. If I had just been reading physics books I would probably have studied physics. There is another potential regret. I think I would have enjoyed being a physicist, but I don’t regret my choice. It took a while to get the PhD, with all sorts of things happening before I completed the PhD, including having a child, writing my first book, and becoming a Class One HGV driver, something I had always wanted to do. While I might write more about pleasure in another blog, there is no greater pleasure than driving a big artic around a town, dominating the road, and doing complex and difficult manoeuvres.
I have enjoyed my time as a psychologist. I enjoyed the learning, and I have enjoyed the teaching and research. I have learned a lot from my lecturers, and even more from my students, who have come from all over the world and taught me about people. I have been privileged to travel to interesting places around the world. How could I regret this kind of life?
Perhaps the biggest non-regret, at least to date, is getting heart disease and – particularly – cancer. I will never know the causes of these problems. I suspect lifestyle has something to do with it, though a couple of family members died young from cancer. I learned to drink beer as a bricklayer, it washes the dust away you know. I forgot to unlearn it when I left the building trade. If the cause of my impending demise is lifestyle I don’t regret it because I have enjoyed myself.
I do feel regret is a negative human trait. People who regret things in their lives sometimes focus on what might have been, and end up unhappy. Well, it didn’t happen, so leave it behind. Your life is as it is, not as it might have been. If you want to achieve something, stop moping and get on with it if it is something that is possible. If not, find something else. Memories are there to be enjoyed and learned from. They are the past. Live for the present and the future. I still do, even though my future is curtailed. I try to carry on and do the things I want to do At some point they will stop, but they stop for everyone. I am not going to waste my time regretting the past when I still have time to live for now and the future. If you are living with regrets then get a grip, folks.
Cancer 85
Posted on November 7, 2023 3 Comments
I am undergoing my chemo treatment today. This is my 11th cycle of 12, and I am very much looking forward to a break. After the 12th cycle I will have my PICC line removed and will be free of treatment for 6 weeks, during which we will be heading to France for Xmas and the New Year.
I had a week’s delay on treatment this time due to having a bad cold. The problem with colds and chemo is that having a compromised immune system means that it is very difficult to shake off the cold, and there is a serious danger that it could turn into something more serious – and often more serious with chemo can mean death. Given that I have a weak chest anyway this can be a little risky for me. On the other hand, as I have only a limited time to live I have to die somehow and why not pneumonia rather than anything else?
I was looking again at the survival rates for people with my condition. While I have been told 50% chance of survival until early 2024 there are so many numbers floating around such as 50% chance of surviving for 9 months. I think I have already got that one sorted. The other interesting figure is 14% chance of surviving five years. Somebody has to be that one in seven. Why not me? My apologies for repeating things I have mentioned in other blogs but these things are important to me for some reason.
I also realise that I have been a little negative at times over the last month or so. This is presumably related to how I have been feeling, ie pretty shitty. I have decided that, given we know survival is related to positivity I need to be a little more positive about the situation.
Last week we got away twice. The first occasion was a day trip to Whitby, so I could get fish and chips and buy some of Fortune’s kippers, which are without doubt the best in the country. I had to drive 7.5 hours as the traffic was so bad. Given my condition, I did pretty well. We spent the weekend in the Lake District, trying a new place for afternoon tea, the Inn on the Lake (Ullswater), and another meal at Yan, Grasmere. All good. Unfortunately, we had to leave early as I had to start my chemo.
Given my recent media experience relating to the Welsh language, I have stopped putting my petty rages on Facebook. This is a little frustrating, as I have so many of them. I wondered about putting them here instead but that might get a little fraught, so we could talk about Israel/Palestine – or then again, perhaps not.
It is turning out to be a long day. My first drug was delayed for a couple of hours. Now I am waiting for the rest of the drugs, that haven’t turned up yet. This is turning out to be the day of the longest delays. No idea when I will get out of here.
OK, this is a bit boring – but it reflects how I feel so put up with it.
Dr Nigel Hunt 