Friday 31 August 2007

Hot off the press

The news is that my Oncology Professor's initial analysis of the scans reveal that they are looking normal. Good news, in fact amazing news!

The scans are however subject to further analysis and confirmation by the team of radiographers.

In the words of the Professor, Professor Dearnerly, "The professionals (radiographers) very rarely disagree with me". In my mind, a statement of confidence that the radiographers will confirm his assessment of the scan.

I now need to wait until next week Friday for confirmation of the confirmation.

While I am very happy, I am going to have to leave the champagne on ice for a week longer.

Thursday 30 August 2007

And so the big day has arrived..


...tomorrow is the day I have had my mind focused on since my treatment started a very long and blurry 12 weeks ago - its CT scan day!

Yip, tomorrow I will be walking into the Marsden Cancer Hospital with a totally different mind-set to every other time prior to it - tomorrow I will be willing on the return of my good health, rather than mentally preparing myself for 5 days of sheer physical torment.

There is a strong chance that I will know the results tomorrow, and to be honest, I am mentally prepared for all probabilities. Still, fingers crossed for the result that would have made the unpleasantness of the treatment all worthwhile.

The last week hasn't been a particularly good week in terms of recovery. I have felt weak, and have had a constant pounding in the head (which, I think, seems to have disappeared today).

The last two days I've been fortunate enough, though, to have had visits from three very close South African friends who are in town for a very brief period of time. To Mark, Kay, and Nicky, thanks guys, you have been a welcome distraction, bringing a lot of much needed fun and laughter at an important time leading up to my big day.

If ever your collective prayers and well wishes were needed, now would be that very time.

Wednesday 22 August 2007

I crawled like a baby...

...is the best and only possible way to describe how I left the hospital this morning at the end of my 4th and final cycle of chemo.

The 4th being my toughest - there were days where the cumulative effects of the steroids caused me to think I was going insane, literally so insane I didn't think my mind would ever recover. I had the shakes 24 hrs a day, and the only reprieve I would have would be when I would take my muscle relaxers before bed. I get the shivers just putting these words down.

Never before in my life did I felt so week as I did today; needing the help and support of the nursing staff and Debs to maneuver me in the direction I needed to go was very scary. To say I felt and looked like a frail old man is probably apt.

I don't have much to say other than being over the moon about having finished my chemo. The next 2-3 weeks will allow for the last bit of chemo to do what it is designed to do, and then from there on, its all recovery time.

I am surprised I've even been able to get the strength to type this blog entry - but it was important that I got my thoughts down on the day of my final treatment.

"This to shall pass".

Thursday 16 August 2007

Round number 4

Sitting here getting my thoughts down in my blog, and I still can' believe that its the eve of the start my 4th and final cycle of chemo.

If I am brutally honest with myself, I have been feeling incredibly nervous all week about squaring up to my final 5-day stint in the hospital. I would have thought by now that I would be taking it all in my proverbial stride. Not to be. Instead, I've been fretting about it non-stop...

...miraculously I've had a change in outlook today, and I owe it all to a visit to London Bridge to visit Debs for lunch. It was a high risk journey on my behalf, as I ran the risk of, once again, doing more than my body would allow me to, or termed another way, my mind writing cheques my body couldn't cash. As it turned out, it did me the world of good. We had a great lunch at a Chinese Dim Sum restaurant which had a great view overlooking the Thames and Tower bridge. After lunch I let Debs get back to work, and I took a very leisurely walk along the Thames South Bank. The change of scenery did the world of good for my psyche and general attitude.

The walk got me thinking about a philosophy that was shared with me by someone I now like to think of as a really good friend. Someone who has provided me with much emotional and physical support through his proficient application of a healing technique, called the Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT) - his name is Lior.

Lior believes that we inherently defer our happiness to be dependent on some event or the acquiring of some material possession e.g "I will only be happy when I am a millionaire", or "I will only be happy when I have new car", or in my case, "I will only be happy when my chemo is finished and I am totally cured of my cancer". So, one of my little lessons from this nightmare, and from spending time talking to Lior, is that we only have one life, and that life is too short to defer our happiness to be dependent on something that my never happen. This is not meant as a cliched lecture to those of you who read this, but merely a personal 'Aide Memoire' to remind me of how I have now chosen to live my life, and that is to be happy no matter what my circumstances are.

Now, as tough as the final treatment may be, and as much as my new philosophy will be put to the test in the next 5 days, I will certainly give it a good test-drive. So, in the those early hours of the morning when I get those uncontrollable shakes in my legs, I will chose to be happy.

Right now I do feel a little tired (probably having over done it once again), but that's to be expected given that it was my first time back on public transport in 3 months, and having walked as much as I did. I do however feel content about having had such a great day - the memories of which I will cling to while I am in hospital.

Monday 13 August 2007

The price was paid

I think I paid the price yesterday for 'over doing it' on Saturday.

A morning of bed-shopping and a visit from Debs' Niece and Nephew yesterday were enough to ensure that I was consigned to the sofa, where I slept for the rest of the afternoon.

I had a great night's sleep, and today I feel a lot stronger, however I intend not to over-exert myself.

The vein in my left arm, the arm in which I had the cannula during my last visit, is still really sore - its become hard, and not squishy and soft like it used to be before all this started. The Doctor told me on Friday that I now have fibrosis in this vein. It just seems to me that I am constantly learning about new permanent side-effects I will have to live with. Oh well, as Debs says, I will just need to think of them as battle-scars. If that's the case, I already feel like a war veteran, except that this war has yet to finish.

Saturday 11 August 2007

Good to be out and about

I woke up this morning to my body and mind telling me that I feel great!

My new found vigour was amplified this morning courtesy of another encouraging 'get well' card from our good friends, Jo and John Crossfield. The words of the card struck just the right cord with me, and has contributed to me sustaining this elevated sense of well-being throughout the day.

I have learnt to feel appreciative of a day like this. Waking up these days has almost been like a lottery for me - never really being sure what my body would allow me to do, and what thoughts my mind would subject me to during the course of the day.

Its been a really warm day today, and I am thankful to Debs for encouraging me to take a walk down to the Sutton High Street with her. I left Debs at the hair-dressers and I continued my walk down the High Street, stopping at Starbucks to treat myself to a Frappacino. I figured this time next week I'll be back in the hospital, drugged-up to my eyeballs, so a little divergence in the diet was definitely in order.

I stopped in to visit my pal Marcus (my former neighbour) en route home, but he wasn't in.

I am back home now, watching England getting thrashed by India in cricket, and I feel really good that I was able to make the walk, both there and back, without so much as even breaking a sweat, or getting out of breath. Surely a good sign. I do feel a little tired though, but I guess that's to be expected. Nevertheless, my spirits remain high.

I am waiting for Debs to call to tell me that she is finished at the hairdressers, so that I can go and pick her up. From there we plan to do a quick supermarket shop.

Tonight we haven't figured out what we want to do. I think we may go out for an early dinner. I really want to capitalise while I am in this mood, and my energy levels are this good. I do, of course, run the risk that I will totally exhaust myself by the time the day is done. If so, that's fine, at least I would have had a taste of normality for an entire day.

Tuesday 7 August 2007

Stu's regular update

Hi Family and Friends,

I was discharged from hospital last Wednesday, after completing round 3 of my hospital stays.

My time in hospital was surprisingly slightly easier then round 2, although the steroids (used as an anti-sickness medication) still proved to be a little devil. I did however manage to persuade the platoon of Oncologists and Doctors to lower the dosage. This seemed to work, as the cumulative effects of steroids were only felt later in my stay. In fact, I only really felt them on my final night, when my muscle spasms, shakes, restlessness, edginess were so severe, they had to give me a muscle relaxant to help me sleep. Thankfully, I did manage to get a bit more sleep during my stay, and the routine of peeing into plastic bottles has become just that, routine.

Eating proved to be a real struggle, and it became functional rather than for enjoyment purposes. It wasn't so much the quality of the food, but more so the delicate nature of my tummy.

Although I managed to get more sleep in the hospital this time round, and although my steroid dosage had been reduced, my time recovering at home hasn't been fun. The cumulative effects of the steroids still seemed to take hold for 2 nights after my return home, and I had to resort to the continued use of the muscle relaxants to help me sleep. In fact, as I type this email, I can still feel a subdued twitch in my right leg from the steroids. It does seem to be improving as each day passes though.

Other side-effects I am currently feeling: my tinnitus (ringing in the ears) seems to have got worse - not so much that its louder its just more frequent. I am told this is something I may have to live with for the rest of my life. A small price to pay for my life I guess. I am also experiencing weird nervous sensations at the tips of my fingers. It feels as though the tips of my fingers have been burnt. From research I have done, I think this is known as 'Peripheral Neuropathy'. It may get worse after my next treatment, and yet again, may well be something I need to live with. I have also been feeling emotionally quite low over the last few days, although I do seem to be returning to my normal perky self.

Although I have been very much 'out of it' since returning from hospital, I haven't needed as much sleep as I thought I would need for this stage of the treatment. I also think it has taken me slightly longer this time round to start getting my strength back. So, for those of you who left messages on my phone last week and on the weekend, I look forward to hopefully speaking to you really soon, now that I am beginning to feel a bit more like me.

I have been given another course of Growth Factors to keep my white blood cell count up. The weird thing is that I have sort of got used to having to inject myself on a daily basis now. I guess this daily routine temporarily replaces other such routines as washing my hair and shaving.

My darling wife, Debs, has continued to remain an incredibly indestructible source of strength and support to me. I don't know how she manages to remain so positive around me all the time. I know it isn't easy for her, as the physical effort that goes into looking after a cancer patient is truly exhausting. She still manages to perform in her job, while rushing home early every evening to cook my meals. I look at her and think that she truly is the unrecognized hero in all of this. I would have given up the battle along time ago if it weren't for Debs at my side.

One of the thoughts that is almost constantly weighing on my mind at the moment, is whether or not I will require a further operation to remove any dead cancerous lymph nodes in my abdomen. This operation is by no means a certainty, in fact my Oncologists advise me that there is a 25-30% chance I will need it. The plan of attack, as I am advised, is that they will monitor at the end of my treatment, through CT scans, how much the Lymph Nodes have shrunk as a response to the treatment. This will basically be an interative process, as it is probably the case that the Lymph Nodes will reduce in size over a period of time. At what stage the decision to operate, or not, will be taken, I am not yet sure about. Its just a 'wait and see' type game. In the meantime, I just need to focus on gearing up for what will be my last treatment starting next Friday 17 August. Its still hard to believe that I can start thinking in terms of my next treatment being my last. What a roller-coaster of a ride this has been so far.

All my love and blessings to all of you out there who have been here for me since day 1. Your support has given me the strength and comfort to face this.

Stu