Yet again, it's been an eventful time between blogs! At last count I'd had three more A&E visits (DAMN uti's!!) and a horrible reaction to the radiotherapy! But there has also been Christmas (lovely, busy) and now that I'm recovering a bit, I have a couple of weeks off before The Next Thing.
Anyway, to backtrack. Radiotherapy, all five and a half weeks of it. Yeah. At first it was fine. All appointments were in the morning so I had the day to relax or do something out of the house if I felt up to it. The drives in to the hospital were usually pleasant driving along the seafront, although downing a bottle of water in 10-15 minutes was not nice! Then after a couple of weeks (and a couple of the aforementioned a&e trips, two overnight stays) I was suddenly feeling bad. My tummy was sore and I couldn't eat much, or keep many things down. My oncologist came to see me when I was having my picc line flushed and said to stop the antibiotics and the chemo infusion (the remainder was only about 5% of the overall treatment and he said he'd rather I wasn't suffering). The following day I was falling asleep in the Radiotherapy waiting room, when one of the nurses I'd befriended came in and said I was going to lie on a trolley and she was getting the doctor. The doctor sent me to x ray to check for blockages, and gave me different anti sickness pills. What with that and being given supplement drinks by the nutritionist, I started to feel better after a couple of days. I can even say I'm starting to feel relatively human again now. So, bonus!! The staff in the cancer center were amazing, looking after me. The chemo nurses and radiotherapists especially. It's an odd experience, lying semi naked in front of strangers while they commented on my socks (usually Christmas ones). They were all so friendly, that I was at ease very quickly. Well, I was an old hand at it. It was also lying there willingly knowing that my insides were being fried but there was no real alternative that I could see.
The next thing is having my fake boob taken out for my MRI scan. Naturally one of the dates I was offered for my op was my birthday but I think, under the circumstances, I was entitled to a nice, non hospitalised day. I saw the surgeon last week and,after an hours delay, fire alarm and the breast care nurse being nabbed by someone else, it was decided that the implant won't be replaced as the skin is too tight. But that just means I may have the reconstruction sooner than planned. Hey hoe.
The last couple of weeks have been nice, gradually building up to things and some nice days with my hubs, in laws, mum and friends. I still have down days but I think I've learnt to ride them out, knowing the next day would most likely be better. Until then I cocoon and read. It's amazing how losing yourself in somewhere like Hogwarts can be very therapeutic! Having my picc line out was definitely a high point- one less appendage to worry about, it's all good!
Short but (hopefully) as sweet as it can be... to quote the late Leonard Nimoy- Live Long and Prosper.
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