Wednesday 31 July 2013
Tuesday 30 July 2013
Blowing in the wind
It comes with a heavy heart that I write about my hair. The dreaded day has arrived and it’s started to go – and pretty fast too. Almost bang on schedule, as the Oncologist had prepared me, day 14 it started. As I ran my hands through my hair, with horror I saw a collection of strands in my palm and sobbed.
SO with each day comes more loss. In fact, given the amount that’s already fallen out, I can’t believe there’s much left but I guess it’s now that I am eternally grateful that I have the thickest hair e-ver. So, to all those hairdressers over the years who have moaned as they’ve cut through the mounds. Take that won’t ya! On the flip side though comes lots of mess. Hair everywhere! Pillow coverd in the morning etc. You get the picture I'm sure.
At the weekend we had a wonderful day out in Savernake Forest but at one point things became overwhelming and I cried as I realised I might not even make it to treatment no. two with hair in tow. I stood for a while, watching the handfuls of hair blow frivolously off in the wind, dancing, whirling and swirling. I couldn’t believe it and it got me thinking…..about every other women that has experienced this feeling. This pain, this fear, and the nightmares that accompany it. I decided this is the meanest, cruellest thing to happen to a woman - first a diagnosis, then surgery, then the dreaded chemotherapy and, just in case that’s not enough, let’s take your hair too. A final blow! And I know so many other ladies have to go through this, not just because of C but for many other reasons too...... plus, you know this is going to happen – let’s face it, they start talking about it right from the very beginning at the diagnosis. But it doesn’t make it an ounce easier to deal with or be prepared for when it actually happens. It’s awful. It’s heartbreaking. Its F Shit!
But what can I do about it? Absolutely nothing except not let it break me, not let it get the better of me and not let it shatter my confidence as a woman. I need to get the clippers out but I'm tyring to pluck up the courage.
So, here’s to my lovely hair - I love you and hope you come back soon, in a similar fashion and a similar colour. Please. It’s been fun over the years. Many thanks. With love, your best friend Nicola.
And so a song – for loved ones, lost ones, overseas friends and travelling friends (Vince, we can’t wait to see you!) and for every other person who has been through similar trauma in their lives.
Alive alive O
Skiddly bop bop - In the words of Neil Diamond ‘I’m Alive’! For the first couple of days, I wasn't too sure but I’m in week 3 now and pretty much back to my old self. Apologies for the silence but, to be honest, it’s been hard to think about C world at all which I guess involves the blog. For some reason, my fingers have not wanted to dance over the keyboard - in fact, they’ve run the other way. I think I may of experienced blogger’s block! That is, until today…….
So, back to the nitty gritty of it….Chemo and life after – it went a little like this:
Day 1 – Nervously and tearfully spent the day in hospital being pumped – literally – with anti-sickness and Chemotherapy (three different types, one which was a shocking red colour, enough to make you want to barf instantly!). However, I guess if I’m honest, it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be - quite a jolly atmosphere on the large ward, patients in the big comfy reclining armchairs with buddies on hard chairs! I tried to watch a movie but not very successfully – everyone was too chatty and noisy. A real mixture of people, mainly older ladies that always give you the wink. The wink of ‘you’re gonna be just fine love’. Quite touching. And a younger lady next to me. I was grateful to meet someone my own age, or so I thought… Until she did not stop talking at me for some time. I wasn’t really in the mood for it. However, once they got started, time flew past, in fact scarily fast. How to while away a day, hey. Wayne stayed with me throughout, except when I insisted he went for a stretch of the legs. I was so grateful for his humour and his ability to talk to anyone about anything, and for his listening skills when it came to Miss Chatterbox next door – while I zoned out! On his birthday too. At the same time, the nurses were great - very kind, very empathetic, just what I had prayed for on this day of all days.
We finally left the hospital at 3ish, despite having to stay behind a little longer than we’d have liked due to my blood pressure falling into my boots and deterioration of vision. Yikes. All ok though and I felt so proud walking out feeling A OK. Quite frankly, you have no idea what state you’ll be in by the time it’s over. I honestly thought there was a chance I’d be stretchered out of there! So when my legs got up to walk I felt quite ecstatic and was chauffeured home by hero hubby to be welcomed by Granny and Tilly who had organised a birthday tea for him. We all managed to celebrate briefly. Then, out of nowhere I literally felt the colour drain from me. In fact, I could feel it running down to my legs and out of my toes! According to Mum, I was white as a sheet. I crawled upstairs and managed to lie on the bedroom floor hugging a bucket. G D sickness like I’ve never known it. DESPITE four different anti-sickness drugs (including American wonder drug!). I wasn’t actually sick – wish I could have been as it might have helped – but had this gut wrenching and intense feeling of nausea. Like motion sickness, if I kept my eyes closed and didn’t move I could control it… just. The minute I moved, it started again – with a vengeance. Luckily, somehow, I passed into a sleep like state for most of the night.
Day 2 – A day of the same feelings and I can’t tell you much about it really as it’s all a blur. Not able to eat and trying to keep fluids going down PLUS it was one of the hottest days of the year. It went something like: bed, fan, drink, bed, fan, drink! And my voice decided to pack up – sort of a 60-a-day gravelly sound.
Day 3 – Phew, an improvement – such a help mentally to start feeling a little better each day. Made it up and about: sofa, fan, bed! Unfortunately, the steroids kicked in, though, and I’m unable to sleep in the early hours – awake from about 2-6am. Seriously, too distressing AND therefore deliriously tired in the following days, which led to cat-like behaviour really - napping all the time!
Day 4 – England gets hotter! I’m sure it didn’t help with the recovery – seem to spend the day trying to find coolest spots in house! Really don’t want to complain though as it’s just so beautiful to have a summer! Appetite slowly increasing but feeling shakey and wobbly and, annoyingly, still nocturnal. Emergency Manuka honey on board to try and restore voice box.....
Day 5 – Managed the school run with Wayne to hold onto as balance a little squiffy to say the least. I’m feeling like my feet want to go the opposite way to my body - very un-coordinated and clumsy, bumping into things constantly. ‘No different to normal’ I hear you all cry but, trust me, it’s a lot worse! Despite this, I wanted to try to keep some normality for Tilly - and for me too.
Day 6 – Big day out thanks to chauffeur Mum – final wig trying on and purchase via M&S for emergency birthday shopping for Lila. Caught my reflection in one of their mirrors and was not impressed. Looking a little peaky! Then Lila-belle’s little birthday tea party. I am officially the proud ‘owner’ of a one year old. And boy, doesn’t she know it – run ragged is an understatement! And there’s two of us doing this job. Shouting is her new hobby… very loud – at anything and everything. However, she did decide to finally start crawling today although she’d still rather sit still, whizzing 360’s on her bottom, demanding and yelling at the top of her voice. Needless to say, Wayne is reaching for the whiskey most nights. Ber-less her! Exhausted at end of the day but happy I managed to celebrate!
Day 7 – A huge breakthrough. Still feeling sketchy and wobbly but a marked improvement. First bike ride and puffed my way up a big hill so feeling very proud. Today was the day, during the bike ride, that I thought for the first time ‘I can do this, I can bloody well do this!’ The wind rushing past the skin on my face, exhilarating and energising. I came in, hugged Wayne and stated that team Clarke is going to get through this, one way or the other. He just looked at me and said ‘I never doubted it’. ‘Well I did’ I replied, but not anymore – I’m going to conquer this once and for all!
Week 2 – As every day goes by I start to feel more human, stronger and more coordinated! My appetite returns – with a vengeance – and I’m becoming physically stronger. What I really noticed, though, is how my brain has been affected. On top of being clumsy/uncoordinated, I’m also extremely scatty! I know everyone talks about ‘chemo brain’ but you’re not kidding……..on top of pregnancy brain too – is there any hope? One day, after Wayne found the dried pasta in the fridge and the recycling in all the wrong bins, he just looked at me and asked ‘are you ok, Nic?’ At that point I replied ‘No, I’m not sure I am’. It was all a bit of a worry really – having to concentrate hard when doing jobs and much slower at menial tasks than normal. Words were harder to express and my brain literally felt scrambled, as though it wasn’t wired properly. Luckily, my vision was improving with time, which definitely helped ease the brain malfunction.
Week 3 – Yey, almost back to myself: voice returned, no longer doing odd things, have been out for dinner a few times, lots of cycles (Lila has been broken into her bike seat) and even a couple of runs. Hip hip! There is life after chemo! Pretty bad fatigue, though, which has been consistent throughout. It’s a tough mental job to plough through the day as it would be too easy to stay in bed for most of it feeling lethargic and sleepy. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel like doing that – and still need to have the odd nap – but, generally, I’m charging up my physical stamina to drive through this precious, hectic life. Meanwhile, I’m trying but failing on the meditation/relaxation side of things. I’ve come to the conclusion that my brain is just not meant to slow down and meditate – not on my own that is. I seem to be able to relax in these groups I’ve been to but on my own it’s just not happening. Life is too busy, children too frantic, brain too buzzy – too much going on. I manage it for about 30 seconds and then bang – onto the next thing to do/plan/buy/cook/clean/write/text/play/phone/read/wash/pay/organise/fix….. yada yada! I will persevere though and perhaps take a trip back to PB for some more group sessions.
That said, it’s been a pretty restful week with only Lila on board. Thanks to Granny (again!), Tilly has been on the adventure of her lifetime this week at Marlborough college summer school, staying at Granny’s house with cousin Connie. The excitement has been huge and sleep minimal! Think Granny has just about survived their antics, ha!
We’ve managed some lovely bike rides, days out and have generally enjoyed the sunshine in the back garden. Veggies a-go-go, peas coming out of our ears and potatoes to feed the whole of Wiltshire! Not a bad turn out from very disjointed planting during op recovery.
So right now, as we hurtle towards Thursday and dose number two, I am so grateful for my life. So grateful for my two deliciously adorable daughters and all the laughter they give me in a day. Despite being utterly exhausted and driven to distraction at times (let’s be realistic here on the parenting front!), they give me so much hope in my life and a reason to FIGHT this daily battle with C. I am filled to the brim with love as I hear Tilly’s morning pitter patter along the landing and Lila’s morning chatter from her room (before the shouting gets going, ha!). I am so happy to be awoken by them at this precise time in my life. Honestly, they are giving me the strength to keep some normality in our lives, get out of bed in the morning and make every effort to be the Mummy they know and love……… who is going to be there for them in their future lives.
So, back to the nitty gritty of it….Chemo and life after – it went a little like this:
Day 1 – Nervously and tearfully spent the day in hospital being pumped – literally – with anti-sickness and Chemotherapy (three different types, one which was a shocking red colour, enough to make you want to barf instantly!). However, I guess if I’m honest, it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be - quite a jolly atmosphere on the large ward, patients in the big comfy reclining armchairs with buddies on hard chairs! I tried to watch a movie but not very successfully – everyone was too chatty and noisy. A real mixture of people, mainly older ladies that always give you the wink. The wink of ‘you’re gonna be just fine love’. Quite touching. And a younger lady next to me. I was grateful to meet someone my own age, or so I thought… Until she did not stop talking at me for some time. I wasn’t really in the mood for it. However, once they got started, time flew past, in fact scarily fast. How to while away a day, hey. Wayne stayed with me throughout, except when I insisted he went for a stretch of the legs. I was so grateful for his humour and his ability to talk to anyone about anything, and for his listening skills when it came to Miss Chatterbox next door – while I zoned out! On his birthday too. At the same time, the nurses were great - very kind, very empathetic, just what I had prayed for on this day of all days.
We finally left the hospital at 3ish, despite having to stay behind a little longer than we’d have liked due to my blood pressure falling into my boots and deterioration of vision. Yikes. All ok though and I felt so proud walking out feeling A OK. Quite frankly, you have no idea what state you’ll be in by the time it’s over. I honestly thought there was a chance I’d be stretchered out of there! So when my legs got up to walk I felt quite ecstatic and was chauffeured home by hero hubby to be welcomed by Granny and Tilly who had organised a birthday tea for him. We all managed to celebrate briefly. Then, out of nowhere I literally felt the colour drain from me. In fact, I could feel it running down to my legs and out of my toes! According to Mum, I was white as a sheet. I crawled upstairs and managed to lie on the bedroom floor hugging a bucket. G D sickness like I’ve never known it. DESPITE four different anti-sickness drugs (including American wonder drug!). I wasn’t actually sick – wish I could have been as it might have helped – but had this gut wrenching and intense feeling of nausea. Like motion sickness, if I kept my eyes closed and didn’t move I could control it… just. The minute I moved, it started again – with a vengeance. Luckily, somehow, I passed into a sleep like state for most of the night.
Day 2 – A day of the same feelings and I can’t tell you much about it really as it’s all a blur. Not able to eat and trying to keep fluids going down PLUS it was one of the hottest days of the year. It went something like: bed, fan, drink, bed, fan, drink! And my voice decided to pack up – sort of a 60-a-day gravelly sound.
Day 3 – Phew, an improvement – such a help mentally to start feeling a little better each day. Made it up and about: sofa, fan, bed! Unfortunately, the steroids kicked in, though, and I’m unable to sleep in the early hours – awake from about 2-6am. Seriously, too distressing AND therefore deliriously tired in the following days, which led to cat-like behaviour really - napping all the time!
Day 4 – England gets hotter! I’m sure it didn’t help with the recovery – seem to spend the day trying to find coolest spots in house! Really don’t want to complain though as it’s just so beautiful to have a summer! Appetite slowly increasing but feeling shakey and wobbly and, annoyingly, still nocturnal. Emergency Manuka honey on board to try and restore voice box.....
Day 5 – Managed the school run with Wayne to hold onto as balance a little squiffy to say the least. I’m feeling like my feet want to go the opposite way to my body - very un-coordinated and clumsy, bumping into things constantly. ‘No different to normal’ I hear you all cry but, trust me, it’s a lot worse! Despite this, I wanted to try to keep some normality for Tilly - and for me too.
Day 6 – Big day out thanks to chauffeur Mum – final wig trying on and purchase via M&S for emergency birthday shopping for Lila. Caught my reflection in one of their mirrors and was not impressed. Looking a little peaky! Then Lila-belle’s little birthday tea party. I am officially the proud ‘owner’ of a one year old. And boy, doesn’t she know it – run ragged is an understatement! And there’s two of us doing this job. Shouting is her new hobby… very loud – at anything and everything. However, she did decide to finally start crawling today although she’d still rather sit still, whizzing 360’s on her bottom, demanding and yelling at the top of her voice. Needless to say, Wayne is reaching for the whiskey most nights. Ber-less her! Exhausted at end of the day but happy I managed to celebrate!
My dear darling Lila entered this world on July 17th 2012
1 yrs old today
Day 7 – A huge breakthrough. Still feeling sketchy and wobbly but a marked improvement. First bike ride and puffed my way up a big hill so feeling very proud. Today was the day, during the bike ride, that I thought for the first time ‘I can do this, I can bloody well do this!’ The wind rushing past the skin on my face, exhilarating and energising. I came in, hugged Wayne and stated that team Clarke is going to get through this, one way or the other. He just looked at me and said ‘I never doubted it’. ‘Well I did’ I replied, but not anymore – I’m going to conquer this once and for all!
Week 2 – As every day goes by I start to feel more human, stronger and more coordinated! My appetite returns – with a vengeance – and I’m becoming physically stronger. What I really noticed, though, is how my brain has been affected. On top of being clumsy/uncoordinated, I’m also extremely scatty! I know everyone talks about ‘chemo brain’ but you’re not kidding……..on top of pregnancy brain too – is there any hope? One day, after Wayne found the dried pasta in the fridge and the recycling in all the wrong bins, he just looked at me and asked ‘are you ok, Nic?’ At that point I replied ‘No, I’m not sure I am’. It was all a bit of a worry really – having to concentrate hard when doing jobs and much slower at menial tasks than normal. Words were harder to express and my brain literally felt scrambled, as though it wasn’t wired properly. Luckily, my vision was improving with time, which definitely helped ease the brain malfunction.
Week 3 – Yey, almost back to myself: voice returned, no longer doing odd things, have been out for dinner a few times, lots of cycles (Lila has been broken into her bike seat) and even a couple of runs. Hip hip! There is life after chemo! Pretty bad fatigue, though, which has been consistent throughout. It’s a tough mental job to plough through the day as it would be too easy to stay in bed for most of it feeling lethargic and sleepy. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel like doing that – and still need to have the odd nap – but, generally, I’m charging up my physical stamina to drive through this precious, hectic life. Meanwhile, I’m trying but failing on the meditation/relaxation side of things. I’ve come to the conclusion that my brain is just not meant to slow down and meditate – not on my own that is. I seem to be able to relax in these groups I’ve been to but on my own it’s just not happening. Life is too busy, children too frantic, brain too buzzy – too much going on. I manage it for about 30 seconds and then bang – onto the next thing to do/plan/buy/cook/clean/write/text/play/phone/read/wash/pay/organise/fix….. yada yada! I will persevere though and perhaps take a trip back to PB for some more group sessions.
That said, it’s been a pretty restful week with only Lila on board. Thanks to Granny (again!), Tilly has been on the adventure of her lifetime this week at Marlborough college summer school, staying at Granny’s house with cousin Connie. The excitement has been huge and sleep minimal! Think Granny has just about survived their antics, ha!
We’ve managed some lovely bike rides, days out and have generally enjoyed the sunshine in the back garden. Veggies a-go-go, peas coming out of our ears and potatoes to feed the whole of Wiltshire! Not a bad turn out from very disjointed planting during op recovery.
Forest day
So right now, as we hurtle towards Thursday and dose number two, I am so grateful for my life. So grateful for my two deliciously adorable daughters and all the laughter they give me in a day. Despite being utterly exhausted and driven to distraction at times (let’s be realistic here on the parenting front!), they give me so much hope in my life and a reason to FIGHT this daily battle with C. I am filled to the brim with love as I hear Tilly’s morning pitter patter along the landing and Lila’s morning chatter from her room (before the shouting gets going, ha!). I am so happy to be awoken by them at this precise time in my life. Honestly, they are giving me the strength to keep some normality in our lives, get out of bed in the morning and make every effort to be the Mummy they know and love……… who is going to be there for them in their future lives.
Thursday 11 July 2013
Wednesday 10 July 2013
The Last Supper
So, its 10.30pm the night before. The night before what? Before my life turns upside down again? SIGH! I’m actually quite enjoying having a ‘normal’ life at the moment and could really do without more traumas and upset right now. That said, it’s been a trying week with the treatment looming. Tears, tantrums and generally erratic behaviour! Managing to exercise though, back on the bike and attempting to run badly! Definatly good for the soul. I almost wonder if I’m going to feel better once the first dose is out the way. Hope so. And, I’m sure this will sound crackers, but I’m actually looking forward to having permission to rest. I’m so utterly exhausted (in a nice way) from running around, trying to fit in this and that, go here and there, see him and her - all before the unknown world of chemo. As of tomorrow, I’m on strike. Officially on the sofa if anyone wants to find me, ha!
So, feeling more frightened of the chemotherapy than the C, scared, apprehensive and fearful - yet curious to know what’s in store - the last tasty supper eaten (with no nuts, seeds, raw veg or fish - rebellious I know!!) before my taste buds are blown into oblivion, I venture off to bed to try to somehow rest before the big day…
Wish me luck, one and all xxx
P.S As today was sadly taken up with appointments for me, we will try again tomorrow to celebrate Wayne’s Birthday. When we step out of the hospital, it will no longer be about me but about dear hubby’s cake! Especially for Tilly, we WILL have candles.
Monday 1 July 2013
Chemo Countdown.......
A trip to London - hoorah! Due to my type of C, there is an increased risk (albeit minute) of it being a genetic cause so I had an appointment with the Genetics team, which happens to be at the Fulham Rd branch of the Marsden. Don't mind if I do! So, a night away for hubby and I - thanks to dear Granny - with old friends up in the big smoke. Yey! Such fun – a day mooching on Kings Rd and a night out in Soho. A real tonic for us both and great to just kick back and forget about C world. Incidentally, I fell completely off the C healthy wagon!!! Christopher Hilton, Emma and I thought of you as we met at Eros and raised our glasses!
Arrived back home on Saturday lunchtime to a letter from the hospital. Mmmmmm, I had an inkling what it was but couldn’t bring myself to open it – I just stared at it for a while. Then, I took myself off upstairs to open it and, as I suspected, it was the chemo start date. I felt winded, like a punch in the solar plexus again. Not sure why - after all, it’s what I’ve been waiting for all these weeks. But to see it in writing completely traumatised me. And guess which day it starts??? Yep, Wayne’s birthday…FFS.
'Chemotherapy Nicola Clarke Thursday 11th July 2013 - Chair 2!'
Unbelievable! Or not – I guess it was going to hit one of the birthdays, wasn’t it?!
I think I’m actually more upset than Wayne– I can’t get over the thought of him having to go to hospital to see his wife receive chemo on his birthday. Whereas he is more matter of fact about it and seems to be in the mindset of getting on with this.
SO, newsflash…….Wayne’s Birthday has now been changed to 10th July in this shitter of a year 2013!!!
'Chemotherapy Nicola Clarke Thursday 11th July 2013 - Chair 2!'
Unbelievable! Or not – I guess it was going to hit one of the birthdays, wasn’t it?!
I think I’m actually more upset than Wayne– I can’t get over the thought of him having to go to hospital to see his wife receive chemo on his birthday. Whereas he is more matter of fact about it and seems to be in the mindset of getting on with this.
SO, newsflash…….Wayne’s Birthday has now been changed to 10th July in this shitter of a year 2013!!!
Oncologist - Strike Two
Ultimate C low point – missing Tilly’s sports day for Oncologist appointment. Too sad. First time I’ve ever prayed for rain in my life! But it didn’t come.
Took an age to decide what to wear – seriously, for some reason you feel like putting on your Sunday best for the Oncologist, the wise Mrs O 2nd. As if they might be that little bit kinder to you if you’re dressed presentably. Anyhow, thankfully, it was a marked improvement on the first Oncologist appointment in London. Today, she was a kind, empathetic doctor who had plenty of time for me and all my questions which I’d not had the chance to ask previously. Such a relief.
Firstly a wound check - yep, we're good to go. Virtually all healed up and looking good!
Then, as predicted, I had to sign a consent form – basically, signing my life away. The risk list was that enormous.
‘YES – really sick after caesarean and more recently after this op.’
‘Right answer, Nicola’ she said – ‘let’s prescribe this for you.’ Hoorah – let’s now hope this drug is as effective as they report. I will give you my verdict as things evolve!
Next, a plan for the chemo which is as follows –
FEC–T =
Fluorouracil (5FU), Epirubicin, Cyclophosphamide – three/four doses, once every 3 weeks.
Taxotere – three/four doses, again once every three weeks.
All given intravenously in hospital.
So, I told you – lots of unpronounceable sickening sounding drugs – jeez, I’m surely in for a rough ride once they’ve fired this into me! And, apparently, if I have managed to hold onto any hair after the doses of FEC then the T will see to it that it’s all gone! Great. Plus, the list of side effects was hugely bleak and daunting. So long that I haven’t even finished it. Can’t bear it so I gave up reading! Can you tell I don’t want to do this? In fact, that’s what I told Mrs O mark 2. And then the tears came. After more discussion of statistics, prognosis and the future, she calmly informed me that, due to my type of cancer, I don’t really have a choice. So, somehow, I have to make chemo my friend. After all, it is my weapon in this war. It’s hard though as I don’t have any warm feelings to it at all - but I’m prepared to work on it. Especially as this is my life for the next few months. Might as well make friends and try and make this a positive journey, right? May even make some new chemo mates, ha! However, still no start date. Grrrrrr. She is estimating 2 weeks till kick off so hopefully not long. Did I just say that? It’s weird as, on one hand, I want this to come around fast and, on the other, I don’t want it to as I’m absolutely terrified.
Then, homeward bound. Thankfully, we got back to pick up Tilly from school and to the welcome news that she had won every race in sports day. Hugely proud mummy!
So, onwards with plans… and it really feels like I am preparing for Dday – dentist, house cleaned, last supper with friends, night out with hubby, seeing family - check check check! And so it goes on. Typically, I seem to have everyone’s birthdays in July: Mum, brother, hubby and little Lila’s first birthday. Looks like Lila’s will fall right around first dose so I’m feeling sad about that too. Hey ho, at least she isn’t aware of what’s going on around her. As long as she gets food, someone to wave at and someone to read her a story, she’s a happy little bunny.
Took an age to decide what to wear – seriously, for some reason you feel like putting on your Sunday best for the Oncologist, the wise Mrs O 2nd. As if they might be that little bit kinder to you if you’re dressed presentably. Anyhow, thankfully, it was a marked improvement on the first Oncologist appointment in London. Today, she was a kind, empathetic doctor who had plenty of time for me and all my questions which I’d not had the chance to ask previously. Such a relief.
Firstly a wound check - yep, we're good to go. Virtually all healed up and looking good!
Then, as predicted, I had to sign a consent form – basically, signing my life away. The risk list was that enormous.
One of the things we talked about was the steroids and anti-sickness drugs they use in conjunction with the chemo. Such a concoction - there seems to be a drug to counteract each side effect. Humph! Prior to this appointment I did some research and spoke to other people about anti-sickness drugs. It’s just not an option for me to feel sick – I don’t cope with nausea well and desperately don’t want Tilly to see me being sick. So, I heard of this anti-sickness ‘wonder drug’ from America and pleaded with 'Mrs O 2nd' for it.
‘Have you had any previous experience of severe sickness after anaesthetics?’‘YES – really sick after caesarean and more recently after this op.’
‘Right answer, Nicola’ she said – ‘let’s prescribe this for you.’ Hoorah – let’s now hope this drug is as effective as they report. I will give you my verdict as things evolve!
Next, a plan for the chemo which is as follows –
FEC–T =
Fluorouracil (5FU), Epirubicin, Cyclophosphamide – three/four doses, once every 3 weeks.
Taxotere – three/four doses, again once every three weeks.
All given intravenously in hospital.
So, I told you – lots of unpronounceable sickening sounding drugs – jeez, I’m surely in for a rough ride once they’ve fired this into me! And, apparently, if I have managed to hold onto any hair after the doses of FEC then the T will see to it that it’s all gone! Great. Plus, the list of side effects was hugely bleak and daunting. So long that I haven’t even finished it. Can’t bear it so I gave up reading! Can you tell I don’t want to do this? In fact, that’s what I told Mrs O mark 2. And then the tears came. After more discussion of statistics, prognosis and the future, she calmly informed me that, due to my type of cancer, I don’t really have a choice. So, somehow, I have to make chemo my friend. After all, it is my weapon in this war. It’s hard though as I don’t have any warm feelings to it at all - but I’m prepared to work on it. Especially as this is my life for the next few months. Might as well make friends and try and make this a positive journey, right? May even make some new chemo mates, ha! However, still no start date. Grrrrrr. She is estimating 2 weeks till kick off so hopefully not long. Did I just say that? It’s weird as, on one hand, I want this to come around fast and, on the other, I don’t want it to as I’m absolutely terrified.
Then, homeward bound. Thankfully, we got back to pick up Tilly from school and to the welcome news that she had won every race in sports day. Hugely proud mummy!
So, onwards with plans… and it really feels like I am preparing for Dday – dentist, house cleaned, last supper with friends, night out with hubby, seeing family - check check check! And so it goes on. Typically, I seem to have everyone’s birthdays in July: Mum, brother, hubby and little Lila’s first birthday. Looks like Lila’s will fall right around first dose so I’m feeling sad about that too. Hey ho, at least she isn’t aware of what’s going on around her. As long as she gets food, someone to wave at and someone to read her a story, she’s a happy little bunny.
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