I’m searching for synonyms; This experience isn’t a rollercoaster – it’s up and down… but not in any sort of exciting fashion; there are quite a few hurdles... that race is nowhere near long enough; uphill struggle sounds about right – apart from the struggle which doesn’t apply and it’s such a dull and negative word in this context.
I’ve come up with fell running – which is an endurance game… quite hilly… calls for a fairly robust constitution and there’s a lot to think about…
So there you go… the process following a cancer diagnosis is like a fell run without the view.
I’m still not happy with that as a lot of the time it feels like being on the receiving end of a custard pie throwing competition.
To recap – an adenocarcinoma was found at the bottom of my gullet in November 2016; following the usual (so it seems) ultrasound/CT/Pet it was diagnosed as operable subject to laparoscopy… following the laparoscopy, the tumour was diagnosed as borderline operable subject to a positive reaction to chemo… then there was an enormous yawning cavern of a hiatus over Xmas… I’m now finally at the end of the 3rd chemo cycle (Cisplatin and 5FU intravenous) and just had the results of the CT scan – the first part of the fell run – which is rapidly turning into a triathlon.
Over Xmas I was having real problems swallowing as the tumour was causing a blockage just where the gullet meets the stomach - mashed roast potato with lots of gravy was OK… but turkey was out of the question… After the 2nd week of chemo the swallowing had improved significantly – to the extent where I have now put on a stone in weight; which I can’t seem to shift.
With the blockage being shrunk (I thought) and feeling generally OK, I expected the results of the CT scan to be good – which indeed they were – so I’m ahead of the chemo curve… no more for the foreseeable but I’ve been left rather less than joyous mood… not “in the moment” I’m looking ahead and thinking that there’s still a lot to cover – with more of this insufferable mollycoddling.
Now I’m not moaning – apart from it not being in my nature – there are a lot of people involved who are committed to getting me well again… the least I can do is lend my body to the process; I guess that this is the frustrating part about this whole thing in that I feel like more of a specimen than an active part of it… understanding it but not “doing it”… watching the shelves being put up but not being allowed to drill the holes… almost like a ghost in the community – if I was being poetic!
I’ve developed a method of trying to understand my mood by thinking deeply about all the things that are influencing it… it helps me realise what’s going on in my head – putting me in a much better place to ignore it – and get on with something useful instead… enough of that.
So the next stage is a PET scan to make absolutely sure that everything is as it should be and there is definitely no metastasis… potentially followed by another laparoscopy to make completely sure and then either further chemo or the Ivor Lewis operation and whistling throughout the “dumping syndrome” – which always raises a titter providing it’s said with the right emphasis of course…
Just before I sign off this ramble… the 3rd cycle of chemo has been much more of the same – following the day of Cisplatin; a gradual regression over the first week and a couple of grumpy lethargic days in bed – then it’s all smooth running (that’ll be the milk of magnesia).
Wishing you all well – and see ya next time – Andy – it’s a triathlon.
