Hi Everybody,
We had a few drinks with friends in the village last night, which was nice and did me the world of good. We were talking about my cancer at one point (it does seem to crop up in conversations quite a bit), and I was saying how although I really appreciate everyone's concern for my well-being, I didn't want it to be the sole topic all the time. I do understand that everyone wants to do something, indeed anything, they can to help me through this One of the guys, who has also trodden the Cancer Highway asked if it feels like being in a bubble, with me sitting serenely in the middle, while everyone else rushed round out side my bubble. And, do you know?, that's exactly what it can feel like. It seems like everyone else's life is being put on hold to take care of me. Luckily, we have friends (many of whom are included in this bulletin) who understand my need to not see too many people, partly due to the fact that I tire quite easily, and partly to avoid picking up anything like a simple cold, given that my immune system is somewhat otherwise engaged at present.
So, how's it gone sine my last missive? You will remember that I discovered the joys of projectile vomiting during the car journey back from my first chemo session. Well, I had a couple more goes at that lark, and have managed to do it in full technicolour, ranging from a dull orange through to something close to khaki. I did make it to the bathroom on each occasion before exploding, so no damage to carpets yet. I have also had some problem down the 'other end'. First I was completely bunged up for about three days, and then when it got going again - pebble-dash describes it best.
I have lost a couple of kilos as my appetite has been hopeless, and eating anything was a real struggle at first. Various highlights include sawdust with lumps in it (muesli), mud mixed with wallpaper paste (Weetabix), grass clippings with dried up twigs (cabbage and bacon), and balsa wood with mastic (a pork chop). I'm supposed to eat loads of high calorie food like double cream puddings, full fat youhurt, and thick smoothies made with cream and fruit, which all taste about the same, which is sickly sweet guck! Happily, my taste is coming back a bit, so I have been able to get more stuff down me. The best way is to graze your way steadily through the day, eating something when ever you feel you can force another mouth full in. It's frustrating that I know I need to eat as much as possible to keep my strength up, but that after just a couple of mouth full's it becomes a chore again. Of course, Christina is doing everything she can to encourage me, but as I tell her, I reach a point where I know just one more gob full with cause the whole lot to come back up again.
I tend to take longer naps now, although at night I only sleep about 3-4 hours at time before waking up again. For example, I didn't get up until about 9.30 today, and feel like I could fall asleep again easily although it's only 1.30pm. The happy pills (Amitryptaline) help. They are an anti-depressant but also serve as sleeping pills. I thinks it's those pills which are causing me to have some very weird dreams, or maybe it's the chemo pills I take every day. Whatever it is, I keep having these peculiar dreams, none of which I can remember at the moment, which is probably a good thing.
My voice continues to break backwards and forwards between a low growl and a high pitched squeak. Sometimes nothing come out at all, and then I have to push really hard to get the words out and Christina tells me to stop shouting at her. That's a lot to do with why I get so tired. The sheer effort involved in talking is exhausting, but I did manage to talk a fair bit at last nights session. It's hard enough getting a word in edgewise with those guys at the best of times!
One other fun thing I managed to do to myself about a week ago was to have a huge cough which ripped my back in half. All right, slight exaggeration maybe, but it hurt like hell, and kept hurting every time I coughed till about now. That's a bit of a problem as I need to be able to cough up the junk on my lungs to keep them clear. Still, today it seems a lot better and much less painful.
We are nearly half-way though the first three-week treatment cycle, so we will soon be back at Addenbrooks for another session. So, will he / won't he faint this time? I'm pretty sure they will have the whole crash team on stand-by for our visit, and staff will be frantically trying to get the day off once they see me on the schedule. After that will probably be the next time I write.
I can't tell you how much knowing you are out there, willing me on all the way, and just being there whenever I need you helps. I'll be sure to remember you all when I make my acceptance speech after winning 'Best Cancer Patient' at next years Oscars. Thanks for all the love and support.
Tony
