Tag Archives: chemo

it’s gone

12 Thursday Feb 2015

Posted by in cancer, chemo, home, hope, hospitals

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prep room

The prep-room at the hospital. My appointment was at 3.00 today and l arrived right on time, expecting to wait at least an hour before my name was called. Five minutes later l was undressing in the prep-room and waiting for the nurse to stick a shunt in my hand (just in case). Turns out all the prep (blood test, no eating, NO WATER for 8 hours) was just in case that happily wasn’t necessary. There was some serious stabby pain when the local anaesthetic was jabbed into my chest, but other than that it was a breeze. The whole procedure took about seven minutes.

My only regret was that I didn’t get a photo of my ex-port lying in the pan. After all, we’d lived together for almost six years. In fact, I asked after I’d got dressed again and the nurse said “oooh, you should have asked straight away, we’ve thrown it into the bin now”. Apparently they didn’t think this was a weird request. In fact, I’d had a couple of other questions for them, prefacing with “I hope you don’t mind…” and they were lovely. The surgeon said there were no silly questions and that it was important that I felt at ease. ALL women on this team today. Not to say that men can’t be understanding, but when you’re yanking something out from between someone’s breasts I’m guessing there’s just a bit more empathy there with women.

First thing I did after I got out of there was drink two huge glasses of water. And this evening I’m just chillin’ at home with the cats and feeling so glad to have this over and done with. Until October. Turns out I only get a 6 month hospital break this time after all (the 6-month PET would’ve been in March) but if all goes well in October then I will get an entire year off from hospital visits. Wow. Seriously wow.

unprintable

03 Monday Feb 2014

Posted by in cancer, chemo, weird

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FingerprintsToday I went to renew my residency card, which included getting a fingerprint taken, and the woman at the immigration office couldn’t get the machine to “accept” my print. She said they were very faint. It was then I remembered hearing something about this while I was on chemo, that taking Xeloda could actually wipe out your fingerprints, as happened to this guy. After quite a few tries with both thumbs and a couple of fingers the machine finally gave a little “ping” and I was okay. I was beginning to worry, wondering what would happen if they couldn’t get an acceptable print. So that was a relief. Also a good thing I never tried using the fingerprint ID option on my new iPhone…

three years ago…

04 Wednesday May 2011

Posted by in cancer, change, chemo, death & dying, fitness, health & happiness, home, hope, hospitals

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May 4th 2008 was the last day I ever felt “healthy and normal”. The next morning I woke up with excrutiating abdominal pain and the rest, as they say, is history.

Three major operations and two bouts of chemo later, I am in remission and have been since September 2009, but of course the risk of recurrence is always there. This was seriously brought home to me when my friend Gaelen was recently diagnosed with new metastasis after three cancer-free years. Around the same time another friend – my power twin Jed – got sick again and is now facing a treatment-without-cure situation. It’s made it harder for me to go along in my usual state of semi-denial, which makes for a lot of sleepless nights and general emotional upheaval. But mostly I’m okay. Because, as far as I know, I’m still okay.

Anyhow, not trying to be a downer, but anniversaries are always a bit poignant in that “will it be my last??” kind of way. As I’ve said here before, perhaps if I’d made more of an effort to do all The Right Things I’d be feeling less, well, annoyed with myself right now. Every day I wake up determined to eat broccoli and forego wine and spend two hours at the gym, and then … it’s not that I can’t be bothered, but things are never simple and I’ve had lots of stress in other areas of my life and I can’t seem to get it all together at once. As if I have all the time in the world to get it right…

One thing I’ve learned these past three years is to be less judgemental about people who can’t seem to get it together. Well, except for me. Are you very hard on yourself, or are you able to just go with the flow?

falling apart

10 Tuesday Nov 2009

Posted by in cancer, chemo, diet & nutrition, health & happiness, hospitals, rants, wtf?

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old car Been feeling like I should be put out to pasture…

Seriously, I feel like an old wreck whose parts aren’t working properly anymore and there aren’t any replacements. Every day it’s something else. Well okay, not every day, but it sometimes seems that way. I mean, after getting over the worst effects of the chemo I developed quite painful neuropathy in my feet (less so in my hands) that will only get worse as it gets colder out. And now my right foot has a new problem in the arch and it feels like I am walking on a golfball. Ouch. Oh, and then I found out I had a hernia – remember that? – which erupted a couple of weeks ago and has still not quite healed after being sliced open to drain. What else? Well, there are the regular bouts of tachycardia that nobody can explain, as well as still getting quite winded after even the slightest bit of physical exertion. And then my mammogram results were dodgy and they want me to have another one in six months. Then the other night I was watching TV and suddenly my vision went all distorted and it was like looking through a flashing prism, which scared the hell out of me but luckily only lasted about 15 minutes. And the latest thing was when I was eating a mushroom on Sunday evening and a huge chunk of my back tooth fell out. Just crumbled and fell out, like in one of those anxiety dreams, except I wasn’t dreaming. Upon further inspection I saw that both my upper back teeth are almost totally black. I mean, wtf?

All of which is compounded by averaging only about four hour’s sleep a night. I feel like I’m sleepwalking most of the time and always feel tired and achy inside. And I worry that maybe this means the cancer has come back.

So there. Rant over. It’s just that sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to feel good again, you know? And at the same time I’m happy to feel even this good after the hell that was chemo. Pretty mixed up, eh?

And today I’m off for blood tests. Heigh ho…

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