The whole point and purpose of this blog, or diary, or whatever it is, is to keep a record of how I feel, and what progress I'm making - or not making. If I don't keep it up to date, it will have no point or purpose at all. Exactly like the rest of my life.
*cue the wailing of a tiny violin*
So, let us take stock:
- Tiredness: this is ongoing. I believe it has less to do with the cancer and much more to do with the pleural effusion - although the effusion is indirectly caused by the cancer, so it all goes round and round and round in the circle game, lalalala. Treatment for the effusion seems to have fallen down the cracks between departments at the Churchill; call me crazy (why not, many people have), but I do feel it might be better if they took a more holistic overview;
- Breathlessness: see above; all part of the same issue;
- Burning in the throat after eating: nasty, but Mostly Harmless, I believe. Something fizzy, like Andrews/Enos/Alka Seltzer usually helps. These are, for some reason, surprisingly hard to find anywhere but in hardcore pharmacies; they seem to have been superseded by Gaviscon, which is no bloody use for anything, so far as I can tell;
- Coughing: the cough is a new development. Again, it's only slight, probably Mostly Harmless, almost certainly tied into the effusion;
- Tummy: bloated and sticky-outy (could this post be any more attractive?). Also, rock solid - not fat. When I had my laparoscopy, they apparently drained a lot of liquid out of my tummy. Has it come back?
- Appetite: very much reduced, and the number of things I can eat, or feel that I want to eat, is also drastically reduced. Cake, choklit, ice-cream: no (I can manage very tiny amounts of choklit; a miniature bag of Maltesers - why is there always a flat one in every bag? - or an individual mini Green & Black's bar). You'd think this would be a Good Thing, but no - see 'bloaty tummy' above. I went through a phase of fancying salty snacks - Doritos, Japanese rice crackers - but that seems to have passed. Probably just as well, as I doubt the salt was good for my blood pressure. Fishy things seem to be okay; also, proving that there is a god after all, Indian food. Only kiddie-sized portions, mind you, but better nor nowt;
- Constipation: occasional. Even on an everyday basis, Nature has to be encouraged to take its course (drinking warm water; rocking) (yes, this is truly a most delightful post);
- Weeing: mostly okay, apart from one bout of cystitis, probably caused by unnecessary catheter unpleasantness.
Note what's absent from the above? Pain, or any increase in pain. In fact, not being at work probably means that I have fewer headaches. The tumour doesn't seem to be causing me more than a very little additional discomfort (I do hope that's not famous last words). Probably just as well, since Superdrug have taken it upon themselves to refuse me Solpadeine. Bastards.
So, to sum up: if they would only fix the sodding pleural effusion, I would, quite possibly, be fit and - at least on the surface, where it counts - healthy, and able to live a normal life, or as normal as my life ever gets. And go back to work, and earn some money. Money! Oh, money, I think I miss you worst of all!
But I'm too tired to chase 'them' around to try to get them to do this. I don't even know who the 'they' is - are - wotever - who I should be chasing.
And, after all, after my clinic appointment on 12 September, I will, I presume, be starting chemotherapy. And that'll be a game-changer, if ever there was one.
I'll just hold my breath till then. Okay?
