Ow, it hurts!

My head is still banging ... I feel like I have the most protracted hangover in the world.

I managed to get two good night's sleep over the weekend but have still woken up today feeling headachy and nauseous. It's really starting to get on my wick ...

 

I've also started to get paranoid about my hair. Found some strands on the pillow earlier. It's probably just normal 'shedding' - I do have very thick hair - but it didn't help me to feel any better about things!

 

So today, I need to get 'doing': pick some wigs, buy some nice food and generally get my house in order. (I have let things slide these past few weeks).

 

And maybe later, I'll see Mr P too. He's spent the last two days/nights carousing in the way that only he can. I'm glad that he's had a good time, (and that Liverpool won the League Cup) but, if he's looking for a sympathetic response to his 'headache' this morning, I think he may be disappointed! ;-)

I’ve put on how much?

I know they said that I’d put on weight but 4lbs in a week does feel a bit excessive.

I know that might not sound an awful lot but to someone of my size and frame it is – and especially over such a short amount of time.

To be fair, my level of physical activity has been a lot lower over the last few weeks - not having to get up and walk to and from the station to work – and I probably have been tucking into the comfort foods. But still, I have put on at least 3lbs in the last three days!

Apart from the pancakes and pasta, which I confess I have enjoyed, I do think this is mostly down to the steroids that they give you to suppress the nausea and other side effects. And you do need them. I haven’t suffered too badly but enough for the stomach and head pains to be a constant gnawing distraction. I even resorted to cleaning Mr P’s flat on Thursday to try and take my mind off how I felt! That was a double-edged sword though, because I ended up completely exhausting myself.

Just generally, the tiredness is a complete bitch. I constantly feel jaded and while I can muster the energy to do stuff during the day, the evenings are a complete wash-out. But worse still is that, despite my exhaustion, I just can’t seem to sleep through the night and end up getting up really early. Boo!

I am still trying to exercise though, to try and boost my metabolism and hopefully my sleep might settle in a few days now that I’m temporarily off the steroids. (You only take them for a few days after treatment – unless you really need them).

I’ve also got lots of healthy supplements that I’m taking to boost my vitamin and mineral intake, mostly bought for me by my lovely friends and family. Today I shall be trying ‘Milled flax, sunflower, pumpkin and sesame seeds, and goji berries’. (Thank you, Ms Jackson). Apparently I can sprinkle it on or add it to all sorts of things, so I suspect it might feature in my morning smoothie and in my chicken stew tonight.

I’m going home today after four days at Mr P’s, so I’m planning a nice quiet night in. He’s got some friends up from Devon, so I think it will be good for him to go out and take his mind off things. It’s been a lot for him to take on these last two months, and very stressful, but he has been an absolute star. I know I’m very lucky to have him ...

And tomorrow, I’m hoping to catch up with some more friends in Ealing just for lunch or afternoon tea, so if anyone reading this is around and fancies coming to say ‘hello’ – please let me know! 

The morning after ...

Well, that's a bit weird. Definitely don't feel right but not dreadful either.

Last night was worse; had that indeterminate 'I'm coming down with something feeling'. Headache, muscle cramp, mild nausea ... the sort of thing that if you woke up feeling like it, you would definitely phone in sick from work but still might manage a bit of 'Diagnosis Murder' on the telly.

Woke up today feeling better but still with a slight, nagging queasiness - but nothing that someone who's ever had a *big* night out couldn't handle ... (!) Fortunately, I do have lots of ginger stuff to eat: ginger jam, ginger sweets, ginger chocolate (thank you, Lisa and Janice), so that does seem to help.

So now I'm at a bit of a loose end. Mr P's had to go out this morning but should be back in time to give my injection after lunch. He's also left me a big pile of washing up ... ;-)

One down, five to go!

That really wasn't so bad. Not pleasant but not god awful either.

First up we saw the wig lady. She was very nice and showed me the catalogue and colour samples, all of which had ludicrous names. My best match is 'Buttered Toast' (?)  Mr P. then got carried away and started offering his own variations: "Butternut Squash!"  (Honestly, you can't take him anywhere ...)

I'm going to pick a couple of styles and she'll bring them to the hospital for me to try on. All of the wigs are subsidised but, depending on which range you choose from, you pay a contribution of up to £75. Obviously I'm hoping that I won't need to wear one but, at that price, it's worth getting one just in case.

Then into treatment. It really was exactly as the nurse had described. The cold cap does look ridiculous and mine was made to look even more daft with little chunks of swabbing inserted for comfort.  They also slick your hair back with conditioner first to protect it because it does get frozen. Fortunately my hair is very thick and insulating but, conversely, I do wonder if that might limit the cap's effect?

Anyway, it was VERY cold. But I'd been warned that the first 10 minutes are the worst [they were] and then you get used to it [I did]. Luckily I had Mr P. to distract me and feed me sandwiches. He also introduced me to the delight of Angry Birds on the iPad. I got quite absorbed and, at one particularly awkward level, found myself exclaiming loudly: "Die you f*cker!" Which probably wasn't the most sensitive thing to shout on a cancer ward ...

Three separate drug combinations later and I was free to go home. I've got lots of anti-sickness steroid tablets to take for two days, and an injection tomorrow, but no more medical appointments for three whole weeks.

So all in all, the day went well. And to celebrate we did a little dance, or the 'chemo conga' as I would like it henceforth to be known ... :-)

Feeling down ... ?  Not me!

Somebody pinch me - this place is too good to be true!

OMG. I LOVE Charing Cross Hospital! Seriously, the place is amazing.

For someone who has spent the last six weeks being treated at Ealing Hospital, Charing Cross is another world.

Firstly, you walk into the main reception and it's bright, modern and inviting. (With no old ladies in dressing gowns smoking fags outside the front door ...)

I then went up to the Oncology outpatients. My appointment was at 11am but I'd been told to get a blood test first so got there at 9.45am, fully expecting a long wait in a depressing, crowded waiting room.

Au contraire! The room was bright and airy and, on taking a ticket for my blood test, realised that there were only two people in front of me. I couldn't believe it - but it got better! Before I'd even had the blood test a nurse appeared and called me to see the Doctor. He was at a 'loose end' and could see me early. EARLY! So even after my blood test, I was out of there before 10.15am ... Outstanding.

However, my next appointment wasn't until midday. No matter, I thought, I'll find where I need to be and then go and buy a cuppa. But, no need! The chemotherapy unit has free tea, coffee, biscuits and WiFi. I even got given a sandwich for my lunch. Superb!

The Chemotherapy nurse was lovely too. She sized me for my cold cap and took me through all the side-effects of the different drugs I'll have, the first and most toxic combination of which is appropriately called FEC-T(!)

Interestingly, the nurse didn't think I needed to get my hair cut too short to start with but, for comfort's sake under the cap, I think I'll still go ahead with a good trim this afternoon.  Even if I don't lose all of it through treatment, I will lose some, so I've also got an appointment to see the hospital's 'wig lady' tomorrow. (That said, I can only assume her usual customers are on the more 'mature' side as the catalogue seems to contain a lot of very tight perms ... )

Anyway, after a quick MRSA swab (nice!) and a precautionary ECG scan, I've been given the green light. The whole process - injections, cap etc. - will take about 3 hours per session but, I can barely believe it, we're FINALLY underway!

Hair today, gone tomorrow ... (sorry!)

Today I’m for the chop. The hair chop. And I’m a bit apprehensive.

I spoke to an old friend about it last week. “You had short hair when I met you,” he said. “Yes,” I replied “but that was in 1994!”

In fact, I worked it out and I’ve not had short hair since 1995. That’s a LONG time ago. A lot of things were different then: Hollyoaks was on the telly, Take That were in the charts, we had a Conservative government ... Oh. Hang on ... ;-)

But before I see the hairdresser there is the small matter of my pre-chemo assessment. So I'm up with the larks and off Charing Cross Hospital for a few tests and other administrative bits and pieces. Then, if everything is as it should be, we're all set to start tomorrow afternoon.

Wish me luck!

Who's that girl?

Today I went to office for the first time in over three weeks.  I know that's not long but I still thought it might be weird.  I really shouldn't have worried ...

Everyone was really lovely and asked how things were going - I even got a few little pressies. (Because I'm always partial to a 'chocolate ginger' and a homemade cookie!)  It was good to clarify a few HR bits too; sick notes, sick pay, etc. as I know I won't be working again for some time.

That being the case, I also did a routine sweep of my portable filing cabinet (or 'poodle' as we like to call them). Ever since a colleague left a piece of cheese in the cupboard for over month, I was a little concerned that I might have left a wizened satsuma wedged in my drawer. Fortunately I hadn't ...

So after a bit of lunch - (which was lovely, thanks guys) - it was back to Ealing Hospital for my 'delinquent tit', as it has been dubbed, to receive its electronic tag.  It was quite a straightforward process, very similar to having a biopsy, and then followed up with a mammogram. (Indeed, thanks to the residual anaesthetic it was the least painful mammogram I've had!)

However, I still came out feeling a bit queasy. But then I remembered ... I had a handbag full of homemade biscuits!  They were delicious. :-)