Culture and anarchy
I suppose it serves me right, when I was thinking I’d come through the chemotherapy with the same ease as my rapid recovery from the tumour removal. It serves me right for thinking I might have special powers of recuperation, or resistance to discomfort. But after a truly grim week at the end of my... Continue Reading →
Steroids and brutally stupid government economics combine for a wave of literally sleepless nights It’s 2.15 in the morning. I’ve been trying to sleep for the last four hours, without success. Thanks to the steroids I have to take to help my body cope with the poisonous elements of the chemotherapy four hours’ sleep is... Continue Reading →
I'm nearing the end of my first chemotherapy cycle, or at least I'm in the third week, in which I don't have to take any drugs for seven days. It's a part of the cycle in which most chemotherapy patients can expect some relief from side effects, except in my case I've barely had any... Continue Reading →
We arrived back in England on Thursday. It was hard shutting the doors again on our new French home, knowing it would be at least another three months before we could think of returning. I'd had a phone call a couple of days earlier confirming that the chemotherapy would begin the following Monday, and I'd... Continue Reading →
The oncologist confirmed pretty much everything I'd expected. The entire tumour was successfully cut out. There were microscopic traces of cancerous cells in just one of the eighteen lymph nodes they removed, so the team was recommending adjunctive chemotherapy to clean them up and minimise the chances of a return. I'll have a course of... Continue Reading →
Last night I received the unwelcome but not altogether surprising news that I'm going to need a course of chemotherapy. I don't know many details yet. I don't know whether it's because the histology on my tumour suggested there was direct cause for concern, or whether this is mostly precautionary. I will agree to it... Continue Reading →
Surviving with grace 