12 Saturday Mar 2011
Today’s Photohunt theme is “machine”.
This is the PET/CT machine at the Virgen del Rocio Hospital in Sevilla. Every six months it tells me whether I am still cancer free or if my world is about to fall apart again. Got kind of a love-hate thing going with it. Blurry photo taken on iPhone in dim light after a scan.
08 Tuesday Mar 2011
Posted in cancer, change, diet & nutrition, health & happiness
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Progress has been slow with my esguince, quite possibly because I missed the “crucial 48 hour period” during which I should have put it up and iced it constantly. Instead I not only finished a four-hour tapas tour immediately after spraining my ankle, but I didn’t get around to getting anything cold on it (in this case, a bag of frozen peas) until some time the following day. And of course I kept hobbling around on it because I’d just moved into my new place and there was so much to be done. So I was on crutches for at least two weeks afterwards, then graduated to one crutch. This was mostly because of all the cobbled streets here – I was getting around the house okay-ish without crutches but needed that extra security when out on the wobbly cobbles.
As walking on my own became easier and the pain in my ankle subsided (though it still hasn’t gone away completely) I decided last week that I would go back to the gym the following Monday. Then on Friday, whilst in a fit of organising stuff, I found my bathroom scale and, well, put it in the bathroom. But curiosity got the better of me and I weighed myself for the first time in about a month… and I almost died on the spot when it said I’d PUT ON 10 KILOS!! How was it possible? I mean okay, I was feeling extra flabby and gross from inactivity, but I hadn’t been eating more – though I had stopped going to the gym! So I tested the scale later that evening by having Nog weigh himself when he got home from a class – and it showed his usual weight. I was devastated and the very next day I dragged my EXTRA FAT butt to the gym. Clearly this couldn’t wait until Monday. And catching glimpses of myself in The Wall Mirrors I was so upset at how EXTRA FAT I was, but was also determined to just take it a day at a time and make some serious diet changes.
Same thing Monday morning… went to the gym, did my workout and then came home to shower. After which I dared to get back on the scales thinking a weekend of careful eating might have made a kilo or so difference. And I was ten kilos less! Or rather, the same weight I’ve been for ages. I immediately called Nog over and had him weigh himself again and yep, he was his usual weight. So – phew! I can only guess that after the scale being upside down and knocked around during the move it wasn’t at its best when I first tried it out (Nog had tried it several hours later). Well, what a relief! And what the heck, got me back into my gym routine a couple of days sooner.
When I had my last appointment with my oncologist Dr Ana she gently suggested that now it seems I’ve got the worst of what I’ve been through behind me (for now) that I should probably think about losing some weight. She asked if I needed her to give me a diet, which I didn’t because I do know what to eat in order to lose weight. And I told her next time she saw me (June) I’d be 20 kilos lighter! Dr Ana just shook her head and said she’d be happy to see me at 8 kilos less. A goal I am quite sure I can accomplish. One day at a time…
22 Tuesday Feb 2011
A curious day yesterday as things got fixed, some loose ends were tied up, and other projects continued to grow. I realised when I got up and sat down at my desk in the living room just how perfect that set-up is as a work space, especially this time of year. In summer I’m sure I’ll often be bringing my laptop up to the terrace to enjoy working out in the sun and fresh air, at least in the mornings.
Things started well when the Movistar technician came back to fix the stuff he’d installed on Saturday, thus ending the awful saga of trying to get my service reconnected. He’s the same guy who put in my internet connection a couple of weeks ago and remembered me (and my cats) from the old place. Anyhow, at one point I mentioned complaining about Movistar on Twitter and he said – “Oh yes, they know about you!” – and explained how he was told to be careful with me and be extra nice. Ha. And later I got a private twitter message from Movistar asking if everything was okay and saying “if there’s anything else, you know where to find us”. So of course I told them about the iPhone 4 fiasco… still waiting to hear about that one.
Later in the afternoon I had to go and see my oncologist. At first I thought I’d have to go alone, but Nog had some time before his evening class and came with me. And when we were called into her office just 15 minutes after arriving it seemed like there’d be plenty of time to get through the appointment before Nog had to leave, but no…
18 Friday Feb 2011
Posted in cancer, friends, health & happiness, hope
Last July I wrote this very happy post about two very dear friends I met on the Colon Club forum, Pat & Jed, because Jed had just got the all-clear on his latest PET scan (as had I) and Pat was continuing to do well living in NEDville (NED = no evidence of disease). The three of us have had many parallel experiences, though both Pat and Jed have undergone much longer and harder chemo stints than me, and have also had more difficult operations. Frankly, as my doctors have said they see no possibility of curing me, I reckon I’m just being given “chemo as required” as long as the tumours stay away.
After my last PET scan in January I got in touch with Jed (Pat and I see each other on twitter) to see how he was faring. And he told me the bad news… a recurrence in both lungs and lymph nodes. Prognosis: inoperable and on “chemo for life”, however long that turns out to be. My initial reaction was to go completely into denial – this couldn’t be happening to my Wonder Twin! And as I was in the throws of packing and moving house I wrote a quick email that was all bluster and bravado (sorry Jed) saying I’d be back soon. And every day since then I’ve wondered what I could say, how I could help, and kept saying to myself “I’ll write tomorrow!”
Then last night I got a quick message from Pat. Her cancer was back. Sounding almost exactly like Jed’s – lungs, lymph nodes and possibly bone mets – and I fell apart. I could no longer do the denial thing and cried for a solid hour, just like I’m crying now. I sent them both messages asking how I could help, meanwhile I couldn’t remember ever feeling so helpless in my life. But I really really want to be able to do something.
It’s just that, you know, this is all so damned unfair!! Pat and Jed have done everything right, they got on healthy diets, and did everything they could to help their luck along. Meanwhile I’ve not changed things all that much diet-wise, continue to drink too much wine and am still very overweight. WTF? No, I’m not saying that I deserve to get a recurrence and they don’t (though to be honest, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop) … it’s more that none of it makes sense. And I am left angry and hurt and scared … and then ashamed that I end up thinking about me. But it’s not only about me, because I think I know how Pat and Jed are feeling right now. None of us are into false hope and patent “positive thinking” crap. And so when Jed tells me “I know you well enough to know that you will not think I’m morbid or ‘giving up’ or any such nonsense”, well, he’s right. But then when he says “now you’ve GOT to hold the line! Twin powers always activated” I burst into tears and want rail against the goddamn stupid bad luck that brought us all to this place. Even though it’s the same goddamn luck that brought us all together. It does give one pause.
Guys, you’re probably reading this. Thanks for the email today Jed, and I hope you can send me some more info about how you’re doing soon Pat. I’m sorry for getting so emotional, because I know that doesn’t help. But I love you both so much and, just like it says up there, your existence gives me hope. And it always will.
21 Friday Jan 2011
Today at 8am I’m having the third PET scan since I got the all-clear in September 2009 after my last chemo finished that summer. Will my luck hold? Will I be okay?
I’m always nervous, if not downright terrified, just before a scan (scanxiety!) but this time was only given two day’s notice, so at least that cut down on the usual anxiety build-up period. Just two nights of lost sleep rather than a week or so. But the really extra anxiety-making thing is that this time I have to go all on my own. Nog has a class and I couldn’t find anyone else to come with me. We’re talking about six hours of scary hospital time with nobody else to talk to.
By the time most of you read this I’ll probably be either in the machine or still at the hospital awaiting the results. I’m really lucky that I don’t have to wait a month after the test for results as my nuclear medicine Team always tell me straight away. The scary thing about that is – if they do find more cancer – they will probably insist I start chemo next week, which would really bugger up my moving plans, as well as the two tapas tours I have booked the first week in February. Of course the even scarier thing would be them telling me that chemo is no longer an option…
Hope I’m back with good news later on!
I know you’re all rooting for me, and that helps.
casa azahar 