Another cycle ticked off, the fourth of seven, so we’re more than halfway through chemo! #5 tomorrow morning. For #4 I switched to a new cocktail of chemo and targeted therapy drugs and I’d been a bit apprehensive about possible adverse side effects (see previous post Macmillan Heroes). It turns out the Macmillan nurse was mostly right.
I got some mild muscle/tummy pain for about a week from the targeted therapy drug.
My sleep was disturbed for a couple of weeks from the steroids.
I had some temporary numbness in my fingertips and toes from the chemo drug, and my fingernails and toenails were a bit tender/painful for a few days, but that’s better now. My fingernails had already started turning black from the cuticles up about six weeks ago, starting with my thumbnails, and now they are all gradually following suit. But I’ve painted them black now anyway! They still feel quite strong and there’s no sign of them flaking or lifting yet.
On the plus side…
I haven’t lost all my hair yet (but my eyebrows are disappearing) and my ‘tache is no more, yay!
I didn’t really have the munchies… well, no more than usual.
No nose bleeds/bleeding gums/bruising.
I had a bit more pain from the G-CSF injections for a few days this time, in my lower back, down my legs and in my feet. I coped well with paracetamol during the day, but one night I woke up at 2am, aware that the pain was getting a bit worse and I couldn’t get back to sleep because of it. Having maxed out on paracetamol, I wasn’t sure if I could take some ibuprofen. It was gone 4am and I just wanted some relief and to be able to get back to sleep. Not knowing if ibuprofen might interfere with the other drugs I was on, I decided to call 111 just to get some advice. They went through the usual questions then said they were sending an ambulance. “No, no! I don’t need an ambulance!” But, based on the answers I’d given, I needed an ambulance. I tried again: “I just want some advice, I really don’t need an ambulance.” To no avail. “An ambulance is on the way. Lock up your dog (we don’t have a dog), put on a mask, and look out for them.” Nooooo! What had I done? To have an ambulance turn up was one thing. I did NOT want to be taken to hospital and admitted. Not again. Besides, I didn’t need an ambulance! How embarrassing would this be?!
HCA ready with the G-CSF
I had to wake HCA up to tell him what was happening. He got dressed and brought my hospital bag down (it was ready this time!) and we came down to wait for the ambulance. We didn’t have to wait long, maybe 30 minutes. HCA showed them in, all three of them. When I told them what the problem was, they couldn’t believe it. “We’ve come from Didcot,” one of them said (almost 30 miles away). They did what they had to do, gave me some codeine, suggested I get my GP to prescribe some for me, and off they went into the night. They were very lovely and not cross with me at all. They just couldn’t understand why 111 had deemed it necessary to call them out. I just hope someone in a real emergency situation didn’t have to wait for an ambulance because of me. Our local ambulance station is less than 2 miles away and I don’t know why one had to come from Didcot!
I told the nurse who changed my PICC line dressing later that day all about it and she said I could have called the emergency oncology line, even though it wasn’t an emergency. They have access to my records and would have been better placed to advise me. Lesson learnt.
None the side effects this time were really bad. I didn’t even bother getting the prescription for codeine; I just got the low dose OTC version which I took for two days then I was right as rain. I was up and about every day, and managed to go for a walk every day but one. I still have to pinch myself to believe that my body and mind are coping as well as they are with the toxins that are being pumped into me. I am surprised because I am a total wimp, but I am very thankful!
On one of our walks
What is most challenging still is coping with the taste changes. With the first three cycles, sweet foods tasted odd/off and I didn’t care for them, which was not a bad thing, but I was able to enjoy my meals, even if they were a bit bland mid-cycle. It was completely different this time around: some of my meals tasted so foul that I couldn’t eat them and I really only enjoyed sweet things. So for a few days I survived on porridge, popcorn, fruit, ice cream and crème caramels. Was I happy when I found that mashed potato with gravy was quite tasty, then some carrots, then chicken, then leek and potato soup… real food! Saturday night I made a Thai green curry that went down quite nicely, and last night I had pizza! Veggie pie with roast potatoes tonight – that was ok but my mouth felt a bit strange, like it was coated with something.
After tomorrow’s cocktail I might have four days of eating relatively normally before it all goes pear-shaped again for a few more days. But it is only a few days and I’m grateful that I haven’t had a sore mouth or throat that would make it difficult to eat anything at all. Now I know what to expect, it won’t be so bad and I’ll try not to let it make me miserable. One of the nurses told me that the first dose of Docetaxel is usually the worst and they get better after that – fingers crossed!
It’s going to be a sleepless night tonight. I forgot to take my steroids at breakfast and lunch today. I need to take them for three days, starting the day before chemo, to try to prevent an allergic reaction to the infusion. I took them when I remembered, which was 4.30pm. Netflix, here I come. And I have set alarms to remind me now.
In my last post but one (Still Flying) I said that we were due to see my oncologist for a review. He used the latest advanced medical and technological methods (a prod and a poke) and concluded that “the breast lump seems to be somewhat smaller.” Scientific or not, I’ll take that! As ever, I am so, so grateful for the medical care I am receiving, for the drugs available to me that would appear to be doing what they are supposed to do, and that I am tolerating the treatment and have not been KO’d by it. My SIL was surprised to see me looking “perky” on Saturday night.
And of course I am very, very grateful for the continuing love and support from HCA, family, friends, neighbours and colleagues. The messages, texts, emails and snail mail I have received are a constant source of encouragement and joy. I am sorry if any have gone unanswered. Please know how much they mean to me and accept this as my heartfelt thanks.
Big love to you all xx
