Yesterday was session 17 out of 34 - and so unless I'm mistaken I've done half of it. The radiographers keep on telling me the main treatment will end next week, which it will, but it still leaves eight boost sessions which require daily trips to the hospital. And this, for me, is more important than whether I'm getting general or local treatment. I'm bored with these trips really. The problem is that you have to give yourself plenty of time to get there, which means having to wait there without taking into account the delays - 1 1/2 hours so far this week.
Still, the waiting room has been proving quite entertaining. I tend to sit with the same people if I can so I'm usually with this elderly Italian couple - whom I don't really understand as their accent is quite marked. Anyway on Monday I was treated to a conversation with the man - who's getting treatment - about how he wish there were more male radiographers as he didn't like exposing his 'bits' to the women. He said he wouldn't have minded had he been younger - *wink wink* - but that now there was nothing to be proud of. His wife was happily giggling next to him and I really had no idea what to say to him. I think this shows how all the prodding by oncologists, specialists of all sorts and radiographers makes you realise that your body is nothing but skin, tissue and bone. There was also some discussion yesterday about the water older men have to drink before they have their treatment. I think they have to drink at least two cups. A lot of them pull a face when drinking the water which is provided as it's lukewarm. Two of them started having a chat as to what they'd like to add to it - whiskey being the favourite. They were giggling like naughty school children and the radiographer who came to get them had to put up with this for a wee while. I was sitting next to another couple yesterday and the husband, who is getting treated, started telling me how drinking all this water often meant that he desperately needed the toilet on his way home. His wife joined in and started having a rant about the removal of urinals, which ended up in her saying that her husband ought to relieve himself on the street 'cos she would if it were her, man'. I'm starting to see why people miss the waiting room once they've completed treatment - you meet people who are going through the same thing, who are very open and funny, and who share their experiences with you. It's a bit like a support group without pretending to be one so that unexpected things and conversations often take place. Not sure I'm making any sense but it's a good thing.
Rambling over and time for me to get ready. Hope you're all well.
27 June 2007
22 June 2007
End of week 3
And this hasn't come soon enough. I'm starting to struggle with fatigue - the daily trips to hospital can be a bit stressful (those who have to commute in London will understand - and my skin is now red (it looks like sunburn). I'm not feeling unwell, just a tad tired. But I'm more or less half-way there and that feels good. I saw my oncologist this morning as I needed additional markings for the final eight boost sessions. That was pretty straightforward. I asked whether I am in remission - since no one had told me and I needed to hear it - and the answer was yes.
Sitting in the waiting room is proving quite entertaining. You tend to see the same faces every day and you get talking to people - you compare how long your treatment is, how much delay there was yesterday, your holiday plans, how much weight you've put on (I win) or lost, what time your appointment is on the following day. There is definitely a sense of camaraderie and that makes the trips more bearable. I'm definitely the youngest there but that's not an issue at all - we're all in the same boat.
The only worrying thing at the moment is a small lump I've found in my other (left) breast. I mentioned it to the registrar on Monday and he seems to think it's a cyst. I'm pretty sure it's nothing serious and I'll be getting an ultrasound at some point to check it out, but it is a bit worrying. I guess this is something you have to live with for the rest of your life once you've had cancer so it's a matter of handling it as best as you can. And I can't say I'm too bothered about it right now.
I also went to see my GP - an absolute star - yesterday as I get quite a lot of pain when I start doing things. The problem is that the end of chemotherapy does not mean an end to the side-effects. In the United States, they treat cancer as a chronic condition as treatment can have long-term consequences. It's simply a matter of getting my body back on its feet and gently start exercising, but because they don't quite understand how exactly certain chemo drugs affect the whole body, there is a need to be careful and not overdo it. There is a chance that healthy, non-rapidly dividing cells have been destroyed and therefore certain tissues need more time to recover.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to a good weekend. I fancy doing a bit more painting, so this I shall do. Be good.
Sitting in the waiting room is proving quite entertaining. You tend to see the same faces every day and you get talking to people - you compare how long your treatment is, how much delay there was yesterday, your holiday plans, how much weight you've put on (I win) or lost, what time your appointment is on the following day. There is definitely a sense of camaraderie and that makes the trips more bearable. I'm definitely the youngest there but that's not an issue at all - we're all in the same boat.
The only worrying thing at the moment is a small lump I've found in my other (left) breast. I mentioned it to the registrar on Monday and he seems to think it's a cyst. I'm pretty sure it's nothing serious and I'll be getting an ultrasound at some point to check it out, but it is a bit worrying. I guess this is something you have to live with for the rest of your life once you've had cancer so it's a matter of handling it as best as you can. And I can't say I'm too bothered about it right now.
I also went to see my GP - an absolute star - yesterday as I get quite a lot of pain when I start doing things. The problem is that the end of chemotherapy does not mean an end to the side-effects. In the United States, they treat cancer as a chronic condition as treatment can have long-term consequences. It's simply a matter of getting my body back on its feet and gently start exercising, but because they don't quite understand how exactly certain chemo drugs affect the whole body, there is a need to be careful and not overdo it. There is a chance that healthy, non-rapidly dividing cells have been destroyed and therefore certain tissues need more time to recover.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to a good weekend. I fancy doing a bit more painting, so this I shall do. Be good.
18 June 2007
A third of treatment completed
First of all, congratulations to both Laura and Brad for getting their degree - I'm so pleased for you both and I know that this is the beginning of big and exciting things for you. They'll be graduating this weekend - I look forward to seeing the photos.
Treatment is going as well as could be expected. I am getting tired far more easily but it's not a massive problem yet. The 'good' thing about this daily treatment is that you get to see the same faces every day and you start making 'friends'. I was told several times last week that people who have completed their treatment miss the camaraderie of the waiting room. I guess it makes sense since most people are there for at least six weeks. I was supposed to see my oncologist this morning to get more tattoos - my last eight sessions will be more localised so they need to place marks around my scar(s?) - but she had to leave early. So Friday's radiotherapy will now take place in the morning, and I'll get the tattoos just after the session.
The good news is that my hair almost looks like proper hair now - I'm debating whether to trim it to encourage growth - and at long last my eyelashes are growing back, too. I have actually missed them - not least during cold and windy days which caused the tears to freely flow - and especially with the freak hairs merrily growing as if there were no tomorrow. So that feels good - a sense of normality coming back.
I was quite busy last week and managed to secure two volunteering opportunities. The first is with Pesticide Action Network, which is trying to eliminate the use of toxic pesticides. I first spoke to the Volunteering supervisor, who asked me to send in my CV and a covering letter. I duly obliged and was offered a position straight away. Then I contacted Camley Street Natural Park, which is right next to King's Cross, as they are always looking for trainee wardens. After a relatively long chat, it was agreed that I would start whenever I was ready. Both places were very friendly and very understanding of the situation I'm in so there is no pressure on me. I can't wait to get going.
I've also set up an ethical gardening website (not my idea but I should be contributing) - so far the name has been reserved and that's about it. I look forward to working on that as there is a certain sense of satisfaction in seeing your work published online. I've also started a painting for another friend whose birthday it was recently. It was my first attempt with acrylics and I really enjoyed it - it's very easy to use and the cleaning is quite straightforward if you do it immediately. Another friend has bought me a three-dimensional jigsaw of an old-fashioned globe and holy shamoly is that taking up a lot of my time. It's great fun though - however old that makes me sound.
So all in all I'm fine. I appear to be fighting off a cold but it's not too bad. I hope you have all enjoyed your weekends.
Treatment is going as well as could be expected. I am getting tired far more easily but it's not a massive problem yet. The 'good' thing about this daily treatment is that you get to see the same faces every day and you start making 'friends'. I was told several times last week that people who have completed their treatment miss the camaraderie of the waiting room. I guess it makes sense since most people are there for at least six weeks. I was supposed to see my oncologist this morning to get more tattoos - my last eight sessions will be more localised so they need to place marks around my scar(s?) - but she had to leave early. So Friday's radiotherapy will now take place in the morning, and I'll get the tattoos just after the session.
The good news is that my hair almost looks like proper hair now - I'm debating whether to trim it to encourage growth - and at long last my eyelashes are growing back, too. I have actually missed them - not least during cold and windy days which caused the tears to freely flow - and especially with the freak hairs merrily growing as if there were no tomorrow. So that feels good - a sense of normality coming back.
I was quite busy last week and managed to secure two volunteering opportunities. The first is with Pesticide Action Network, which is trying to eliminate the use of toxic pesticides. I first spoke to the Volunteering supervisor, who asked me to send in my CV and a covering letter. I duly obliged and was offered a position straight away. Then I contacted Camley Street Natural Park, which is right next to King's Cross, as they are always looking for trainee wardens. After a relatively long chat, it was agreed that I would start whenever I was ready. Both places were very friendly and very understanding of the situation I'm in so there is no pressure on me. I can't wait to get going.
I've also set up an ethical gardening website (not my idea but I should be contributing) - so far the name has been reserved and that's about it. I look forward to working on that as there is a certain sense of satisfaction in seeing your work published online. I've also started a painting for another friend whose birthday it was recently. It was my first attempt with acrylics and I really enjoyed it - it's very easy to use and the cleaning is quite straightforward if you do it immediately. Another friend has bought me a three-dimensional jigsaw of an old-fashioned globe and holy shamoly is that taking up a lot of my time. It's great fun though - however old that makes me sound.
So all in all I'm fine. I appear to be fighting off a cold but it's not too bad. I hope you have all enjoyed your weekends.
07 June 2007
Radiotherapy
I meant to update this before starting radiotherapy but never got round to it. I've now had three sessions, and all I can say is that it's pretty straightforward. So far - touch wood - I've not had to wait to get treatment, and this only lasts about ten minutes. It's simply a question of lying on your back, not moving, and letting the machines do their job. Getting me in the right position is probably what takes the longest to be honest, the bombardments - x-rays is what radiotherapy is all about - only last two to three minutes. I've not had any reaction so far. I'm following their guidelines as far as skin care's concerned. I need to make sure the skin remains moist throughout the treatment, I'm only allowed to use baby soap, which means no deodorant or talcum powder on the side being treated. Which in turn means that you should avoid standing on my right side at this moment in time. I hope it doesn't get too hot but I have my doubts.
It now seems I won't be getting 25 but 34 sessions. Apparently I should've been told that eight 'booster' sessions are given as standard and are simply more localised treatment. And then I get an extra session in the simulator to get additional images I think. I'm glad I wasn't told this before treatment started - I found it very hard to get myself going knowing it was going to last five weeks, I think six and a half weeks would've been a bit too much. So far, things aren't too bad - I'm feeling a bit tired but this could be due to just about anything. But compared to chemotherapy and surgery, this is a walk in the park - famous last words no doubt. I'm being taken very good care of, so basically all I need to do is get to hospital, get treatment and get back home.
I have no plans as such. There's a sale on in Battersea Park at the weekend, where leftovers from the Chelsea Flower Show are being sold to us common mortals so a trip there looks like a distinct possibility. Other than that, the French Open is keeping me busy - and I know someone who must be very pleased to see three Serbian players in the semis.
I'd love to see the photos of your flowers and garden Stephanie. I will email you very soon.
Thanks for all the feedback on Laura and Brad's website. A special big thank you to Hazel for the comments regarding access for disabled people - I'm learning all the time.
Hope you're all fine and dandy.
It now seems I won't be getting 25 but 34 sessions. Apparently I should've been told that eight 'booster' sessions are given as standard and are simply more localised treatment. And then I get an extra session in the simulator to get additional images I think. I'm glad I wasn't told this before treatment started - I found it very hard to get myself going knowing it was going to last five weeks, I think six and a half weeks would've been a bit too much. So far, things aren't too bad - I'm feeling a bit tired but this could be due to just about anything. But compared to chemotherapy and surgery, this is a walk in the park - famous last words no doubt. I'm being taken very good care of, so basically all I need to do is get to hospital, get treatment and get back home.
I have no plans as such. There's a sale on in Battersea Park at the weekend, where leftovers from the Chelsea Flower Show are being sold to us common mortals so a trip there looks like a distinct possibility. Other than that, the French Open is keeping me busy - and I know someone who must be very pleased to see three Serbian players in the semis.
I'd love to see the photos of your flowers and garden Stephanie. I will email you very soon.
Thanks for all the feedback on Laura and Brad's website. A special big thank you to Hazel for the comments regarding access for disabled people - I'm learning all the time.
Hope you're all fine and dandy.
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