Sunday, 7 February 2010

Chemotherapy session 10 -- nearly there!

I'm writing from bed with very low energy levels as I embark on the tenth cycle. The cumulative toxicities of the treatment are getting quite significant and I get extremely tired and no longer fully recover from the side effects before embarking on the next session. I spend most of the first week of treatment in bed (6 days last session) and find I only have a few active days before the next treatment session. This has it's own problems - as I begin to feel better, it's very easy to overdo it and squeezing little things such as opticians, barbers, light housework or a work meeting easily takes it's toll before I realise it.

Last Tuesday evening, I became aware of a mild pain sensation in my chest and then noticed that the entry point of my Hickman line (temporary central line inserted through my chest into which the chemo drugs are infused, to reduce skin side effects) was quite inflamed. Such minor infections can become very severe because the immune system is severely compromised by the chemotherapy drugs, so we rang the hospital. After a call back from my chemo nurse, we decided to await the next day when I could would be visiting hospital from pre-chemo blood tests and a meeting with the consultant. Further examination on Wednesday, reveals that there is a mild infection at the wound site and blood cultures are taken to ensure that there is nothing more sinister lurking deep inside where the line enters the main vein feeding my heart.

In the afternoon, I have a meeting with the consultant, who casts asides any fear of a line infection - apparently, I am nothing like ill enough. She suspects the infection is superficial and hopefully, despite my blood counts being "on the deck", I will fight it off. Anti-biotics are prescribed just in case, but I am not required to use them unless it gets worse. (It is improving, but very slowly). We also discuss my exhaustion and increasing side effects: the tingling in my fingers which is persisting longer and the death of my taste buds. It's not that I can't taste things, it feels like you have severely burnt your tongue and the burning sensation swamps any taste when eating. The tingling is the biggest concern since this can persist beyond chemotherapy (in rare cases permanently). The consultant explains that it's important to monitor the side effects closely at this stage, since there is little point in keeping the treatment going if there is a significant risk of long-term damage or infection (the blood counts won't recover until treatment stops). Ideally, we will complete all 12 sessions, but if there is a line infection, or the side effects get more severe, we stop. Statistically, completing 80 - 90% of the treatment doesn't seem to affect overall outcomes too severely. This is a huge relief to me, I'm not quite ready to throw the towel in yet, but it's nice to know it's close to hand. We will review the 11th cycle and decide based on how well I complete this 10th cycle.

The will to write the blog is ever present, but increasingly more so now, the energy to pull it off just isn't there. Sorry! It must be frustrating to be "a follower" when there's nothing to follow. Bear with me, I have copious notes in my journal and I will write when I can. On the plus side, my spirit is in good shape as I write this with a light heart which just about balances the desperate desire for the treatment to end!

I was recently reminded of a Buddhist tale which seems highly relevant to me now:
An Indian prince gave his ring to his jeweller, challenging him to engrave a phrase upon it which would sustain the prince in terms of great adversity and restrain him at times of great success. The jeweller returned the ring with just 3 simple words: "It will pass"
This is a great reminder that, no matter how hard things seem, it is always transient. Better still, I love the more subtle reminder that we need not to get too carried away with the excitement, the highs, the tinsel. To my mind, most of life's true jewels lie in the realm of normal everyday life, yet as humans we are just poor at noticing this.

3 comments:

  1. Keep going Phil. Glad the end of treatment is finally in sight. Lots of rest and nutritious food. Hope all else is well in Hope Cottage. Just got a new PC after 2 weeks computerless. Off to Berkeley in a minute to cook tea for the mob. xxx

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  2. Don't mind the lack of posts Phil. We don't mind - you keep up your spirits mate - thinking of you. oSc XXX

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  3. Glad the treatment will be finished soon.

    Dont worry about us, as we all understand completely when you dont have the energy to write...and after all its your blog!!

    Nice to chat the other day...Take care.

    Laura

    xxx

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