The home straight

So we’re nearly there. Tomorrow I visit my Oncologist for the last time and start the drugs for what, we sincerely hope, will be my final chemotherapy session.

You’d think that I’d be feeling chipper about this. And of course, to some degree, I am. However it’s been a tough couple of months and the thought of returning to treatment after an extended break is proving much harder than I thought.

Even though we’re so near the end, this has definitely been one of the worst cycles. Not physically, although the nausea did last into the third week, but mentally and emotionally.

I feel a bit like a London marathon runner who’s floundered at 23 miles. You know, the bit under Tower Bridge where they’re all limping with a teary but determined look in their eye.

I really just want it all to be over. To have my hair and eyelashes, to have a normal routine and to just have my self-confidence back.

In truth though, I know that some things will never be as they were and that the long-term effects of this treatment do mean that some doors - like having children - could well be firmly closed to me.

That’s not definite, I will need to ask for various tests, but I suspect from the way my body is now behaving that my options could be very limited. So it’s been an introspective few days.

Fortunately, however, I do have lovely, lovely friends who have been on a mission to cheer me up. In the last two days alone, I have been out to the pub, to a baby shower (brilliant fun) and to TWO West End shows!

And tonight, it’s England’s opening match against France in Euro 2012. Mr P and I are very excited and will be watching the game, like Howard and Hilda, in our new (and matching) England shirts.

I hope Roy Hodgson and the boys don’t let us down.

Me and Mr P. in front of the telly ... ;-)

"Congratulations and celebrations!"

What a brilliant few days.  Although, I think I might remember them better than some of my friends ... !

Despite the on-off weather, I'm pleased to say that us Brits put on a 'bloody good show'. It was weekend of music, dancing, celebration and laughter ... and apparently the Queen had a bit of a bash too. ;-)

Mr P. and I were away from London celebrating the marriage of our good friends Mr and Mrs Robinson. The weather stayed dry for us, if a bit grey, as we supped Pimms, quaffed champagne and ate what I can honestly say was one of the nicest cheesecakes I have ever tasted!

It also provided a lovely opportunity to catch up with people that I had not seen since the Bride's hen party, way back in March. Many of you will recall that this was the weekend that I started to lose my hair, so it was nice to be able to tell them how well I'm doing - and that the end is now nearly in sight!

Indeed it was celebrations all round as we drank, danced (to superb music provided by Mr P. and Russy G.) and generally made merry to the wee small hours.

The happy couple ... who, yes, really did trust me to do a Bible reading! I was very honoured.

But now we're all back in London. The Queen is apparently still celebrating but for most of us the party is over and we're back into the old routine.

Which for me, of course, is getting ready for one more dose of chemotherapy next week. I'm not looking forward to it - obviously - but it will be good to finally get it out of the way.

And then we can have another party!

In jubilant mood

What a glorious week it’s been. Gorgeous sunshine, dining with lovely friends and colleagues and now a four-day weekend to celebrate the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee (Cheers, Ma’am!)

Except, Mr P and I won’t really see much of the official celebrations as we have a far bigger more important event to attend: the wedding of our good friends Alan and Gemma!

It’s all very exciting ... and with the way I’ve been on these recent treatments, if I manage to make it through the church service – and especially my bible reading – without turning into an emotional blubbing wreck, it will be a miracle!

Normally, I would have expected to be relatively symptom-free this week but that hasn’t been the case. I’ve really felt quite nauseous at times.

Nevertheless, I do love Queenie and still wanted to do something for the Jubilee. Fortunately some more good friends got in touch and invited me to their street party in Wimbledon on Saturday. It was amazing! And incredibly well organised, if also peculiarly British with a load of middle-aged strangers doing tug-o’-war in the street ... (Men vs. women. Weird!)



Sadly now though, the weather has turned and it looks like the official Jubilee celebrations (and maybe the wedding) could be a very rainy affair.

But it won’t dampen our spirits – oh, no! – or our consumption of them ...
For God’s sake, we’re BRITISH!

Busy bee

Right-o, so I now have two ‘good’ weeks ahead of me and they’re already looking very full!

Lunches, dinners and a Jubilee wedding ... and that’s before I factor in all the mundane house and garden stuff that I need to get sorted. Oh, and I still need to sound-edit a radio play. I think I might have over-committed myself!

I am feeling better though, if – unsurprisingly – a bit tired. My joints are still a little weak and I’m finding that I’m quite clumsy too. (Managed to drop and smash my iPhone)

But for the most part, I’m doing OK. My hair appears to be growing back and the wispy white down on my head has given it the look and feel of a tennis ball.

The other day, I also picked up a sample of a caffeine-based product that’s supposed to stimulate the hair follicles. So I’ve slapped it on my scalp and am hoping for the best. The sooner I can grow some proper hair, the sooner I can stop wearing the wig because synthetic hair is proving a bit too stifling in this hot weather!

But we’re now about half-way through the whole treatment and recovery process, and the second half will (I hope) be easier.

Six weeks from today I will be at the Marsden having my pre-op dye injection and preparing to see the back of my ‘guest’. It still feels a long way off but at least I have lots to distract me.

A change of perspective

Many years ago, somebody told me: ‘Happiness is a state of mind. If you’re not happy – change your mind.’

And so I have. I’ve decided that instead of constantly trying to fit into an, as yet, unknown schedule and trying to second guess what may or may not happen, I should start setting my own agenda.

So Mr P. and I have booked a holiday. Well, flights anyway - and we will be off to southern Italy for a week in August. It was scarily liberating to think ‘F*ck it. I’m going on holiday – radiotherapy can wait for me!’

I’m not a natural risk taker and can spend ages pondering and checking before committing myself. Mr P., on the other hand, is more spontaneous and firmly believes that details can come later (or be sorted out by someone else!) It’s a winning, if frustrating, combination ...

But making the decision has cheered us both up no end. Just to have something in the diary to look forward to, post op., really feels wonderful.

And that positive feeling has continued. I’m in Lichfield for a few days to celebrate my Mum’s birthday and this morning we popped over to St Giles Hospice (where my father passed away) to visit their Starflower Garden of Remembrance. It was really very beautiful, particularly on a bright sunny day like today, and an innovative way to remember those who are no longer with us.

Trust my Dad to get himself on the front row ...

It’s also been really nice to spend a few days with my Mum as I hadn’t seen her since before my chemotherapy started. She’s performing this week in a comedy at the Lichfield Garrick and I'm going to see the show tonight with one of my friends.

I’m really looking forward to it. I feel I’m well overdue for a really good laugh.

Operation update!

It's now moved to TUESDAY 10 JULY.

The Royal Marsden called me today and confirmed that I do need to have at least three weeks clear of chemotherapy.

"F*ck nuts" (as Mr P. would say)

Bit gutted. But at least we only lose a week.

What’s that on my head?

I appear to have hair growth! Soft, wispy, baby-type fuzz – but definitely still hair.

I’m a bit baffled by this as my eyelashes and eyebrows have significantly thinned out. But on the side of my head, which was completely bald, and in-between the last few remaining short strands on the top is a soft white-blonde down.

Obviously I’m pleased but still surprised that it’s started before I’ve finished the whole chemo treatment. Clearly the Docetaxel doesn’t affect those follicles in the same way the FEC did.

Anyway, it has cheered me up. I know it doesn’t sound much but I was starting to feel like I’d emotionally ‘jack-knifed’ and was struggling to get myself moving forward again.

A few things have contributed to this but certainly the fact that the ‘Marsden have said that they might have to push my operation date back because of the change to my chemotherapy schedule at Charing Cross has caused me a lot of anxiety.

So we’ve made a couple of calls this week and are still waiting for some answers. Charing Cross Hospital has confirmed that there will be NO chemotherapy treatments the w/c 4 June, so my final treatment will be Wednesday 13 June instead. The Royal Marsden has been informed and I am now waiting for the surgical team to let me know if I can still go ahead with surgery on Tuesday 3 July (being now slightly less than the minimum three week gap usually required) and, if I can’t, what the date will be.

The uncertainty is dreadful. When you’re plodding on through the treatment there really aren’t much in the way of ‘high’ points, so you fix on key milestones as an opportunity to plan other things or just breathe easy for a bit.

So I’d been thinking about the operation and how long I’d need to recover and, from there, when the radiotherapy dates would be. And then, all being well, I was getting excited about being able to go on holiday at the beginning of September (before Mr P.’s other commitments kick-in for the Autumn).

But for now, I can’t plan for anything – which makes me sad. And this is all due to one casual calendar change to meet the convenience of a hospital administrator or management team.

Even if it works out OK for me, and the ‘Marsden tell me they can honour the date, I’m still really annoyed with Charing Cross. Being on this treatment is hard enough without being mucked about.

So, to the NHS team who have bagsied themselves a whole week off. ‘Good for you – enjoy your holiday!’ At least you know when you’re getting one ...