D2PC (or, Day 2, post-chemo)
Well, chemo is over. While I still have the hole in my chest, it is no longer attached by a thin tube to a bag of poisonous crap on my hip!! 17 weeks and 6 days with my little "friend", and I'm over it.
I had a CT scan on Monday as part of the restaging of the cancer, and I am happy to report that according to the doctor, I'm cancer free. Of course I will still have a PET scan in Sydney over the next two or three weeks, but the oncologist is confident that we've knocked it on the head. You bloody little beauty! (please note unrestrained joy not possible to convey in writing - just not good enough at it).
When I asked him whether this meant that I was cured, his response was along the lines of: "with cancer, you're never cured until you die of old age". I can live with that.
Another appointment in a month to (a) have my portacath flushed out, and (b) to ask him the hard questions about how we are going to monitor things to ensure that - should the cancer recur - it doesn't become as advanced as this time before we discover it. Or maybe my new reality is that I will live on tenterhooks around this for the rest of what will be hopefully (and I hate using that word) be along and fruitful life.
In the meantime, life continues on. I am feeling better by the day, although this morning while out on my walk with Oskar the Dog I tried to jog a couple of times and knocked up very quickly - and I'm paying for it now. Paul Craft says I should be back to a very unfit "normal" in one to two weeks. Can't wait. Although I went for a long bike ride with my sensei yesterday and held up okay - a 1200cc engine will do that, tho.
There are some learnings from all this which I intend to out down at some time in the not too distant future. The most obvious is that Cancer is not necessarily a death sentence, although everything we "know" as a society tells us it is, and we certainly respond in that way when told we have it. Another is that there is very big industry out there flogging quack cures and approaches. The give-away to these is, appropriately, that they don't give them away - you have to buy them. Warning: NEVER buy a book which details the unique approach to survival of a wholesome young cancer sufferer. Wait till you can pick it up from the estate of some other idiot who bought it, tried (or didn't) the "cure" and died. And don't get sucked in. Also, do your research: type cancer quackery into Google, and read the discrediting of most of the popular approaches, from the Gersson diet approach to the power of positive thinking as espoused by the very expensive Ian Gawler.
That's enough for now. More later.
Yeayyy!!
Friday, 19 October 2007
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
Getting close to the end, now..............
Once again, weeks have passed since last time I posted but not a lot has happened, although chemo moves inexorably on. I am now just one pump change and eight days from formally ending chemo. Today, then, is C6D13.
The last couple of weeks have not been particularly kind, as each major hit has impacted me a little more severely, and for a longer time. As an example, in the early days I used to be back to "normal" by about Tuesday after the big hit, but the last two have hung on longer, until this time its been just the last day or so that I've felt in the slightest bit "normal", and even then things are pretty relative! I've also noticed additional side effects as the process has matured, such as chest and arm pain, some shortness of breath after the tiniest exertion, some minor ear-ringing, a little facial numbness and an ongoing low grade headache. And of course the mucousitis which I wrote about last time. But compared to others I see in my weekly visits to the hospital, I'd rather be me (at least in the short-term!!).
Over the next couple of weeks, the plan is to restage the tumour/cancer. Next week sometime I'll organise a CT scan, then I'll have a biopsy on the cancer site by the gastro-intestinal guy (Thommo, remember?) and go down to Sydney for another PET scan. This last will have to wait a couple of weeks, as apparently the chemo interferes with the readings and throws up false positives - wouldn't want any of those, now, would we?!
One odd thing that I've noticed lately is that cancer and other serious illnesses are everywhere amongst my near contemporaries. One friend and close colleague has developed a nasty bowel condition over the past couple of months (diverticulitis?); another had a nasty and potentially fatal twisted intestine, while a third announced yesterday that he has aggressive prostate cancer and his future is uncertain. What is happening to the world?
And to add to the stress levels, the house is on the market prior to our shift later this year to Queensland. For those who are interested, we're no the web at allhomes.com.au at 32 Hawkesbury Crescent in Farrer ACT. Lots of photos which do the house absolute justice! The problem is that we're on exhibition twice a week for three weeks, and I am under extreme pressure to keep the house tidy. Not easy for a little grot like me! Luckily my real area of responsibility is the garden out the back, and given that we've deliberately designed it to be easy care, then its ............. easy.
I'll post next after the restaging process, with news about the future.
The last couple of weeks have not been particularly kind, as each major hit has impacted me a little more severely, and for a longer time. As an example, in the early days I used to be back to "normal" by about Tuesday after the big hit, but the last two have hung on longer, until this time its been just the last day or so that I've felt in the slightest bit "normal", and even then things are pretty relative! I've also noticed additional side effects as the process has matured, such as chest and arm pain, some shortness of breath after the tiniest exertion, some minor ear-ringing, a little facial numbness and an ongoing low grade headache. And of course the mucousitis which I wrote about last time. But compared to others I see in my weekly visits to the hospital, I'd rather be me (at least in the short-term!!).
Over the next couple of weeks, the plan is to restage the tumour/cancer. Next week sometime I'll organise a CT scan, then I'll have a biopsy on the cancer site by the gastro-intestinal guy (Thommo, remember?) and go down to Sydney for another PET scan. This last will have to wait a couple of weeks, as apparently the chemo interferes with the readings and throws up false positives - wouldn't want any of those, now, would we?!
One odd thing that I've noticed lately is that cancer and other serious illnesses are everywhere amongst my near contemporaries. One friend and close colleague has developed a nasty bowel condition over the past couple of months (diverticulitis?); another had a nasty and potentially fatal twisted intestine, while a third announced yesterday that he has aggressive prostate cancer and his future is uncertain. What is happening to the world?
And to add to the stress levels, the house is on the market prior to our shift later this year to Queensland. For those who are interested, we're no the web at allhomes.com.au at 32 Hawkesbury Crescent in Farrer ACT. Lots of photos which do the house absolute justice! The problem is that we're on exhibition twice a week for three weeks, and I am under extreme pressure to keep the house tidy. Not easy for a little grot like me! Luckily my real area of responsibility is the garden out the back, and given that we've deliberately designed it to be easy care, then its ............. easy.
I'll post next after the restaging process, with news about the future.
Tuesday, 25 September 2007
Its been a while
Its been so long since I put anything up, that I wouldn't be surprised if no one is still reading. Sorry.
Okay, to catch up. When last you visited, I had just been told that the tumour seemed to have vanished, a most unusual result for such an easy time in the chemo cycle. Since then, the chemo has just been a chore - something to be tolerated, rather than a positive force for good!! So I have just settled into a routine. Interestingly, the impact of the chemo has been a little worse each time - the effects are clearly cumulative. I feel like crap for a little longer after each "big hit" (next one this Thursday) with symptoms of nausea and an urge to vomit (unresolved, fortunately). Then feeling pretty low for now more than an additional week at a time, followed by another week in which I just feel very ordinary. Hmmmm.
The other big bit of news is that I had to be taken off the 5FU last Friday, just one day into it. Apparently, my bloods were marginal on Wednesday. On Thursday afternoon the left side of my face blew up like a watermelon: its called mucousitis, or inflammation of the mucous membranes in the mouth. Its been pretty ordinary until yesterday, when it started to go down. Today, back to 95% normal. Added to that is the mild dose of conjunctivitis I've had (unrelated, I think) and a constantly dripping nose, and its an attractive picture!!! Bloods again tomorrow: here's hoping they're back to normal, and the "big hit" goes ahead as scheduled on Thursday.
One thing I've decided to do is to take sick leave for the duration of the chemo. As I've been justifying it, I haven't been completing or achieving much lately, and I feel that I've been letting people down. Now at least, they won 't have any expectations of me, so it will be difficult to let them down. Having made the decision, my stress levels dived! Having said that, I went down to Melbourne overnight for a presentation at a Defence conference today. Did I mention that I get tired easily? Any real or sustained effort knocks me pretty flat.
Added to all that is that we're preparing the house for sale (it goes on the market on 6 October, auction on 27 October). So I really have been as useless as the proverbials on a bull! Much thanks to family and friends for covering for me, and being so pleasant as they "carry" me through the whole clean up and clear away process.
"Dancing with the Stars" is nearing its end tonight, so time to finish up. I'm back into this, so over the next month, I want to chat about some of the impacts of this whole thing - on me and others. I will be discussing spirituality, positivity, quackery, and why I've decided not to do the Ian Gawler thing. Things could get ugly, but you have been warned.
Oh, and one other thing. The two favourite speakers at last year's EXPAND conference (Michael Milton and me) have gone down with cancer. Does this mean that working with EAs is dangerous?
Okay, to catch up. When last you visited, I had just been told that the tumour seemed to have vanished, a most unusual result for such an easy time in the chemo cycle. Since then, the chemo has just been a chore - something to be tolerated, rather than a positive force for good!! So I have just settled into a routine. Interestingly, the impact of the chemo has been a little worse each time - the effects are clearly cumulative. I feel like crap for a little longer after each "big hit" (next one this Thursday) with symptoms of nausea and an urge to vomit (unresolved, fortunately). Then feeling pretty low for now more than an additional week at a time, followed by another week in which I just feel very ordinary. Hmmmm.
The other big bit of news is that I had to be taken off the 5FU last Friday, just one day into it. Apparently, my bloods were marginal on Wednesday. On Thursday afternoon the left side of my face blew up like a watermelon: its called mucousitis, or inflammation of the mucous membranes in the mouth. Its been pretty ordinary until yesterday, when it started to go down. Today, back to 95% normal. Added to that is the mild dose of conjunctivitis I've had (unrelated, I think) and a constantly dripping nose, and its an attractive picture!!! Bloods again tomorrow: here's hoping they're back to normal, and the "big hit" goes ahead as scheduled on Thursday.
One thing I've decided to do is to take sick leave for the duration of the chemo. As I've been justifying it, I haven't been completing or achieving much lately, and I feel that I've been letting people down. Now at least, they won 't have any expectations of me, so it will be difficult to let them down. Having made the decision, my stress levels dived! Having said that, I went down to Melbourne overnight for a presentation at a Defence conference today. Did I mention that I get tired easily? Any real or sustained effort knocks me pretty flat.
Added to all that is that we're preparing the house for sale (it goes on the market on 6 October, auction on 27 October). So I really have been as useless as the proverbials on a bull! Much thanks to family and friends for covering for me, and being so pleasant as they "carry" me through the whole clean up and clear away process.
"Dancing with the Stars" is nearing its end tonight, so time to finish up. I'm back into this, so over the next month, I want to chat about some of the impacts of this whole thing - on me and others. I will be discussing spirituality, positivity, quackery, and why I've decided not to do the Ian Gawler thing. Things could get ugly, but you have been warned.
Oh, and one other thing. The two favourite speakers at last year's EXPAND conference (Michael Milton and me) have gone down with cancer. Does this mean that working with EAs is dangerous?
Thursday, 16 August 2007
A bit too subtle for some?
It appears that yesterday's entry was not quite clear enough for some: I have been inundated with calls (well, two) asking what the hell I meant! So (heavy sigh.....................)
Yesterday I went to the oncologist to get the results of my mid-term chemo scans. After the usual social chit-chat, he told me that the scans showed no sign of the cancer, and that the infected lymph nodes had returned to normal. After we (Gaye and I) scraped ourselves off the ceiling, he went on to tell us that I should continue the chemo to ensure that every skerrick of nastiness is removed from the rather dilapidated temple that is my body.
I liken it to a game of footy. At half time you're ahead 50 nil, but the coach tells you not to let up, but to go out and put another 60 or 70 points on the opposition to ensure that they never trouble you again!
Chemo does not result in cures, but remissions. If I want to be absolutely certain the little sucker never returns, the surgeons will have to decide in about three months that I'm operable - something they've resisted in the past. If I continue without surgery, it is possible, but by no means certain, that the cancer will return at some unspecified time in the future. But because its a slow growing, relatively non-aggressive form of cancer, it should never become as dangerous as it was this time - we should be able to stop it before it does real damage with close monitoring. This time it got to stage 4 before we noticed it.
Clear enough?
Yesterday I went to the oncologist to get the results of my mid-term chemo scans. After the usual social chit-chat, he told me that the scans showed no sign of the cancer, and that the infected lymph nodes had returned to normal. After we (Gaye and I) scraped ourselves off the ceiling, he went on to tell us that I should continue the chemo to ensure that every skerrick of nastiness is removed from the rather dilapidated temple that is my body.
I liken it to a game of footy. At half time you're ahead 50 nil, but the coach tells you not to let up, but to go out and put another 60 or 70 points on the opposition to ensure that they never trouble you again!
Chemo does not result in cures, but remissions. If I want to be absolutely certain the little sucker never returns, the surgeons will have to decide in about three months that I'm operable - something they've resisted in the past. If I continue without surgery, it is possible, but by no means certain, that the cancer will return at some unspecified time in the future. But because its a slow growing, relatively non-aggressive form of cancer, it should never become as dangerous as it was this time - we should be able to stop it before it does real damage with close monitoring. This time it got to stage 4 before we noticed it.
Clear enough?
Wednesday, 15 August 2007
Mid-term Report Card
Dear Mrs D'Arcy
I am happy to be writing this mid-term report for young Anthony.
When Anthony (some here call him Tony) arrived here just four months ago now, he was faced with the challenge of a new environment, the need to make new friends, and to complete a new and difficult curriculum.
When he first started, he was filled with enthusiasm and good intentions, and presented as a high-spirited lad with honourable aspirations. He worked hard initially, and quickly settled into a routine of work, study and exercise. He also fitted in well, and made many friends who continue to support him well.
If I have one criticism of his approach at this stage, it would be that perhaps he took advice from many different sources when he first started, perhaps promised a bit too much to himself and those around him, based upon somewhat dubious and non-scientific sources? He needs to watch this as he continues on.
After his initial enthusiasm, I have to say that he slowed down somewhat in the middle stages. He will tell you that it had to do with a lingering cold, a dripping nose and a sore chest and shoulder, but in my opinion it is symptomatic of a possible longer term problem with his approach to life generally: he may not be a finisher. You will need to watch this in him, and reinforce in him the need to complete what he sets out to achieve!
I am pleased to tell you, however, that he has passed his mid-term examination with flying colours - sometimes sheer talent and ability can make up for a lack of application (this may seem unfair to some, but it is the way of the world). This morning, as I was marking his paper, I was amazed at the progress he has made. There is no sign of the peripheral difficulties he had when he came, and the central problem that he demonstrated has dissipated to such a degree that I am pleased to advise that it is on the run. When I discussed his progress with his football coach, he suggested that it was "a little like leading 50 nil at half time: you know you've got them beaten, but you want another 50 points in the second half to be sure!" I agree with this assessment. I am also confident that the opposition is in a sorry state after the first half whacking they received, and are unlikely to present much resistance in the foreseeable future!
During the next period, I expect Anthony to put in the same amount of work as he has in the last three months. He will need to spend another nine weeks at hard study, and while at times this may seem unnecessary, I am sure that if he sticks to it in good spirit he will continue to reap the results he wants. I know that his success in the first part of the term will buoy him mightily as he progresses.
He mentioned to me that he had made plans to move to another cricket team later in the year, but that his need to attend this school meant that he had to continue to play here. I would strongly advise that he re-activate those plans: there is no reason for him to stay and suffer in our cold when the sub-tropics beckon so hard. Can I suggest that January would be a good time for him to make the move? I can see him in maroon.
In the meantime, we wish him luck for the future, especially the next few months. I have no doubt that the rigours of this place will continue to test him, but the end is in sight, and a fine end it is too!!
Yours sincerely
O. N. Cologist
(Head of School)
I am happy to be writing this mid-term report for young Anthony.
When Anthony (some here call him Tony) arrived here just four months ago now, he was faced with the challenge of a new environment, the need to make new friends, and to complete a new and difficult curriculum.
When he first started, he was filled with enthusiasm and good intentions, and presented as a high-spirited lad with honourable aspirations. He worked hard initially, and quickly settled into a routine of work, study and exercise. He also fitted in well, and made many friends who continue to support him well.
If I have one criticism of his approach at this stage, it would be that perhaps he took advice from many different sources when he first started, perhaps promised a bit too much to himself and those around him, based upon somewhat dubious and non-scientific sources? He needs to watch this as he continues on.
After his initial enthusiasm, I have to say that he slowed down somewhat in the middle stages. He will tell you that it had to do with a lingering cold, a dripping nose and a sore chest and shoulder, but in my opinion it is symptomatic of a possible longer term problem with his approach to life generally: he may not be a finisher. You will need to watch this in him, and reinforce in him the need to complete what he sets out to achieve!
I am pleased to tell you, however, that he has passed his mid-term examination with flying colours - sometimes sheer talent and ability can make up for a lack of application (this may seem unfair to some, but it is the way of the world). This morning, as I was marking his paper, I was amazed at the progress he has made. There is no sign of the peripheral difficulties he had when he came, and the central problem that he demonstrated has dissipated to such a degree that I am pleased to advise that it is on the run. When I discussed his progress with his football coach, he suggested that it was "a little like leading 50 nil at half time: you know you've got them beaten, but you want another 50 points in the second half to be sure!" I agree with this assessment. I am also confident that the opposition is in a sorry state after the first half whacking they received, and are unlikely to present much resistance in the foreseeable future!
During the next period, I expect Anthony to put in the same amount of work as he has in the last three months. He will need to spend another nine weeks at hard study, and while at times this may seem unnecessary, I am sure that if he sticks to it in good spirit he will continue to reap the results he wants. I know that his success in the first part of the term will buoy him mightily as he progresses.
He mentioned to me that he had made plans to move to another cricket team later in the year, but that his need to attend this school meant that he had to continue to play here. I would strongly advise that he re-activate those plans: there is no reason for him to stay and suffer in our cold when the sub-tropics beckon so hard. Can I suggest that January would be a good time for him to make the move? I can see him in maroon.
In the meantime, we wish him luck for the future, especially the next few months. I have no doubt that the rigours of this place will continue to test him, but the end is in sight, and a fine end it is too!!
Yours sincerely
O. N. Cologist
(Head of School)
Thursday, 9 August 2007
Its Gorn - C3D15
Well, its happened - hair's gone. It happened like this.
On the weekend, Gaye and I went down to Kangaroo Valley (just inland and south of Wollongong, for the geographically challenged). We hadn't really been out of Canberra since the dreaded Black Friday, so we were up for it! We stayed at a top-notch B&B for three nights from Friday, and mosied up to Sydney on Monday, for a Tuesday meaning. We had a sublime weekend. Except for Saturday AM!
I have always said that when people started to notice the state of my hair, it was coming off. On Saturday morning we went into Berry looking for some Voltaren or similar for a painful shoulder. The chemist asked me whether I was on any drugs, and when I told her "a bucketload!", she looked at me then asked: "How far into the process are you? Chemo I mean." How could she tell, I asked - "your hair, of course - its typical of chemo patients. I bought the Voltaren, went around the corner to a little hair dressing salon, and 3 minutes and $15 later walked out a changed man.
But here's the thing - I have a really good head for it! And I want to know why brother Tim didn't tell me about the freedom that total baldness endows. I really enjoy it, as long as I don't catch an unexpected glimpse of myself in a mirror, or shop window reflection. I have bought, as promised, a snappy black fedora to accessorise the black overcoat. In the vernacular of the day, I look sick!!
But enough about me, and on to other things. On Monday next week I have the mid-process scan, as mentioned in the last post. Things haven't gone quite as expected in the last couple of weeks, with me having some odd chest and shoulder pain which has been affecting my sleep, and therefore my generally cheery good mood. Hence the Voltaren last weekend. I also have a little soreness in my neck/throat which is worrying me just a wee bit. In any case, if it gets any worse, its either mumps or Flu, rather than anything to do with the C.
More next week - you'll be among the first to know.
Oh, and I will post a photo in the next day or so, with and without hat!!
On the weekend, Gaye and I went down to Kangaroo Valley (just inland and south of Wollongong, for the geographically challenged). We hadn't really been out of Canberra since the dreaded Black Friday, so we were up for it! We stayed at a top-notch B&B for three nights from Friday, and mosied up to Sydney on Monday, for a Tuesday meaning. We had a sublime weekend. Except for Saturday AM!
I have always said that when people started to notice the state of my hair, it was coming off. On Saturday morning we went into Berry looking for some Voltaren or similar for a painful shoulder. The chemist asked me whether I was on any drugs, and when I told her "a bucketload!", she looked at me then asked: "How far into the process are you? Chemo I mean." How could she tell, I asked - "your hair, of course - its typical of chemo patients. I bought the Voltaren, went around the corner to a little hair dressing salon, and 3 minutes and $15 later walked out a changed man.
But here's the thing - I have a really good head for it! And I want to know why brother Tim didn't tell me about the freedom that total baldness endows. I really enjoy it, as long as I don't catch an unexpected glimpse of myself in a mirror, or shop window reflection. I have bought, as promised, a snappy black fedora to accessorise the black overcoat. In the vernacular of the day, I look sick!!
But enough about me, and on to other things. On Monday next week I have the mid-process scan, as mentioned in the last post. Things haven't gone quite as expected in the last couple of weeks, with me having some odd chest and shoulder pain which has been affecting my sleep, and therefore my generally cheery good mood. Hence the Voltaren last weekend. I also have a little soreness in my neck/throat which is worrying me just a wee bit. In any case, if it gets any worse, its either mumps or Flu, rather than anything to do with the C.
More next week - you'll be among the first to know.
Oh, and I will post a photo in the next day or so, with and without hat!!
Monday, 30 July 2007
C3D5
Sitting at home, watching TV and feeling just a little sorry for myself. Today (Monday) I've spent the day at home, with a pretty severe headache. Didn't move most of the day, and spent a decent amount of it asleep. A pity, really, as the weekend was a pretty good one, although Thursday and Friday were extremely ordinary. Back-tracking..........
Cycle 3 started on Thursday, and went very smoothly. I'd had a meeting with the oncologist on Wednesday, and he'd taken me through the process from here. I will have a CT scan in Canberra today fortnight. By then, half way through the treatment, the cancer should be showing one of two situations: either unchanged or worse, in which case we need to vary the treatment, or showing signs of improvement, in which case we consider what to do next - positively!! I'm feeling very confident - and quietly, so is the oncologist.
Thursday afternoon and Friday I was as ordinary as I've been. Very lethargic, easily tired and very fuzzy in the head. The anti-nausea drugs seemed to be working overtime, with me doing lots of heavy gulping hoping nothing else eventuated! Then on Saturday and Sunday, I felt pretty well, and we did a fair amount, including visiting WhiteHart Vineyard and going for a couple of walks. Then Harry Potter in the comfort of Dendy Premium (the only cinema which gives FF points!). Great movie and a very presentable pizza delivered directly to the Jason Recliner!! Fantastic!
Today, average and very dusty. This evening, tho, a little better. Top Gear cheered me right up!!
Oh and the hair? So far, its hanging in there: wispier than before, but sort of cute - or at least thats' what Gaye says, and she wouldn't lie to me!! THe girls in the clinic expect me to be nude-nutted each time they see me. Bad luck, kids.
Cycle 3 started on Thursday, and went very smoothly. I'd had a meeting with the oncologist on Wednesday, and he'd taken me through the process from here. I will have a CT scan in Canberra today fortnight. By then, half way through the treatment, the cancer should be showing one of two situations: either unchanged or worse, in which case we need to vary the treatment, or showing signs of improvement, in which case we consider what to do next - positively!! I'm feeling very confident - and quietly, so is the oncologist.
Thursday afternoon and Friday I was as ordinary as I've been. Very lethargic, easily tired and very fuzzy in the head. The anti-nausea drugs seemed to be working overtime, with me doing lots of heavy gulping hoping nothing else eventuated! Then on Saturday and Sunday, I felt pretty well, and we did a fair amount, including visiting WhiteHart Vineyard and going for a couple of walks. Then Harry Potter in the comfort of Dendy Premium (the only cinema which gives FF points!). Great movie and a very presentable pizza delivered directly to the Jason Recliner!! Fantastic!
Today, average and very dusty. This evening, tho, a little better. Top Gear cheered me right up!!
Oh and the hair? So far, its hanging in there: wispier than before, but sort of cute - or at least thats' what Gaye says, and she wouldn't lie to me!! THe girls in the clinic expect me to be nude-nutted each time they see me. Bad luck, kids.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
