I have a recurrent liposarcoma (aka The Alien). I am starting palliative chemo with Doxorubicin. I had wanted to tell you about my preparations for chemo but my techie skills aren’t enough to force in some images I wanted to include into the Macmillan blogsite so that will have to wait. I am going to jump straight to chemo day.
Living in Norfolk means that a trip to the Marsden in London takes a bit of organising. Dog into care, train booked, B&B booked.
A kind friend drops us at the station. There’s a shelf of free books in the waiting room. Of the 40 or so books I noticed:
Chronicles of a Death Foretold by Gabriela Garcia Marques
Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes
Ashes to Ashes by Jenny Han
I was anxious enough already…….this didn’t help.
The journey through to Chelsea was fine and the B&B was great. Much better than on a previous visit where we had ended up in what was, to all intents and purposes, a brothel.
Next morning, bright and early we stepped onto the treadmill of blood tests, ECHO, appointment and then chemo. The NHS is wonderful and the staff were kind, caring and efficient but there was lots of waiting. Being a newbie in the day treatment centre felt like being in a club and not knowing the rules. Were we sitting in the right place? Had we checked at the right desk? Would we be forgotten? My anxiety on this score was not unfounded. Decades before when I had applied to join my husband in Australia I had had to have a chest X-ray as a screening test prior to visa application. I booked myself into the radiology department. I changed into my gown and the X ray was taken. I was told to sit in the cubicle and not get dressed until they had confirmed the X ray was alright. So, I waited…and waited. And then I waited a bit more. And I got cold in my cotton gown. And after over an hour I emerged to find the X ray department was dark and empty. I eventually found a radiologist who was very surprised to see me and told me to dress and he then unlocked the department which by then had closed for the night! I was a junior doctor at the hospital. Obviously a very obedient junior doctor.
Back to the present…. because Doxorbuicin is toxic to the heart I have to have an ECHO prior to treatment. The ECHO room was warm, dark and small. A charming Italian technician asks me to strip to the waist and lie on the couch whilst he runs the ECHO probe over my chest wall. Strangely intimate and it felt like the beginning of the inevitable surrendering of one’s body to other people that medical treatment entails. After a lot of measuring and probing the technician input data. There was a pause. ‘how old are you?’. Sixty two. ‘What sport do you do?’ Does spaniel walking count? Another pause. ‘your heart isn’t in the normal range for 60 to 70 year olds.’ Oh, dear. ‘it’s OK, it’s in the range of 20 to 30 year olds.’ So, if it wasn’t for the Alien I might have lived forever.
Back to Day Treatment and the Doxorubicin was given without any fuss or bother.
The red devil, as Doxorubicin is sometimes known, is a very long established chemotherapeutic agent. Originally it was isolated from Streptomyces peucetius a bacterium found in an old castle in Italy on the Adriatic coast. The latter fact is the inspiration for its other name, Adriamycin. Adriatic streptomycin. And there I was thinking it had been discovered by someone called Adrian. The ‘rubicin’ part refers to its ruby red colour. Doxo is a mystery to me in this context. On google it is defined as a belief. I will try and believe in its ability to attack the Alien.
As it was injected through a fast running IV, I lay back and imagined I was having a full bodied Italian red wine. I hope the Alien drowns in it.
In preparation for the day I had brought with me the following things:
A refillable water bottle. I knew there were water fountains and that when coming for CTs they were surrounded by discarded plastic cups. But as it was, saving one plastic drinking cup seemed rather pointless when faced with the syringes, tubes etc and all the packaging that went with them.
A book. The Girl on the Train; a good page turner.
A sketchbook. I have been using ‘Zen Doodling’ as a relaxation aid. But there were too many people and too much bustle to even try and start.
A snack. I couldn’t face anything but was impressed when a trolley turned up with sandwiches and fruit.
And of course, my husband. Totally essential but I didn’t want him to endure all the hanging around. The V and A Museum is walking distance from the Marsden and, as he has with previous appointments, he escaped to the statues and art. With time I think he will be able to run guided tours there.
For our return journey we had treated ourselves to a car home. Being on the Underground and train with a vomit bowl in one hand and an overnight bag in the other seemed a very dismal prospect. As it was the M11 and the diversion were both closed and whilst we were warm and comfortable in the car the train would have got us home more quickly.
It was wonderful to be home. But a new phase of life has begun.
Come on red devil…..it is time to battle with the Alien.
