Chemo day, 26th March (Cycle 5)
I was very apprehensive of taking the chemo. I sat there with the little boxes laid out in front of me. My usual dosage of 100mg had been lowered to 80mg, 1 tablet less to take. I felt sick at the thought of it taking it, as I knew that as soon as these small pills were down my throat that there would be no turning back. If they made me ill again, then I would have to see the full cycle through or this dose through, because if this dose did make me feel as shitty as it had done before, then there is no way on this planet that I am going to take the day 8 dose. For Christ’s sake I was gipping with just taking my pre meds of anti sickness and diahrea pill, and then half an hour later doing the same while I was snipping the little chemo pill packets open. The pre meds make me feel light headed and with the chemo on top of that, I was feeling nausea’s and pretty dam light headed and dizzy.
It was a glorious day, the sun was out in its bestest summer frock and smiling down on everything, so I decided to go and get me some good old vitamin D and got laid out on the sun lounger. Now this is the life, not a care in the world, well when I’m laid down anyway. Standing up is a totally different story of having to hold on to something to steady myself in fear of my going wooo wooo so frickin dizzy that I weeble woobles and does fall all the way down.
The following day, as usual, I was pretty exhausted from the lack of sleep that I was able to get during the night; this was either from me sweating the duvet off, battering the hell out of my pillow that felt like a hot water bottle or running to the loo. The diahrea tablets seemed to have worked, because touch wood, I have had no diahrea yet, but in its place I have been left with the biggest wind machine ever, and due to my previous experience of the chemo diahrea, I had the need to go to the loo every time I needed to fart, just in case, well you know what I’m saying (just incase I I followed through and shit myself) I can’t believe that this chemo tablet has actually made a lady of me. Who would have believed it, me going to the loo to fart! Whopps sorry, I will rephrase that, me going to the ladies room to pass wind ha ha. Anyway, because of the total knackeredness and living in the UK with our absolutely gorgeous reliable weather (not), I again got laid out in the garden to take in some of the Sunshine and its vitamin D, which had Lee in stictches afterwards when he spotted me walking across the landing naked with a lovely pair of white shorts and vest permanently fixed to my skin. After a good lazy day and snoozeathon I was raring to go, so later on in the afternoon when the sun had cooled off a bit, Lee and I took the dogs out over to the field and Lake.
This chemo is going pretty well, so far getting out of the house has been impossible for me so soon after taking my dose and I put this down to standing up for myself and getting the dose lowered.
On Sunday 1st April, with me still feeling so bloody cocky from not feeling crap with this chemo, decided to take the dogs in the car for a good walk around Wollaton Park. Lee, Luke, Luke’s friend and Molly ran around the field with the football while little Max and I went and sat at the side of the lake to take in its beauty. The swans were giving the biggest display I have ever seen and don’t ask me how I did it, but my camera and I actually gelled for once and after a few click clicks, I caught a couple of what I think to be the best pictures I have taken to date.
It probably wasn’t a good idea to go off on so many walks, as my back and hips are killing me. I feel like I’ve just climbed up Ben Nevis, and so for the first time in ages, I have reached for the pain killers of paracetamol, ibropuphen and gabapentin, and when these didn’t give me any relief, started downing the orimorph.
Day 8 pills were taken with only a slight hesitation of them going to make me feel crap, I’d had a good week, so why would this week be any different. I did feel very tired, but I think this could be down to the pain relief that I am taking which hopefully will sort itself out, so I can put the medication to the back of the cupboard once again. Another thing that could be caused either from the chemo or from the pain medication is the stupid irritating itchy nose. I’m so friggin fed up of sniffing, sniffing because my nose feels like its dripping like a tap constantly, like I have turned into one of them snotty nosed kids that have snot running down over their top lip, but I haven’t. I am blowing it constantly, but its so dry, all I succeed in doing is making my nostrils sore and chapped. This sniffing is turning into one bloody annoying habit, that no wonder its a sign of going mad or a sign that you are going to get mad at the next person to say something to you, whether that something is nice or not.
The only thing that I have done productive this last week is to go on a talks meeting with Macmillan at the Boots Pharmacy head office. Being a little nervous about what to say and being so tired, I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. The staff were fantastic and it looks to be a great step forward that Macmillan and Boots are at last joining forces. Just think, we’ll be able to go into any Boots Pharmacy for our medication and all the staff will be able to talk to us and understand what we are going through as they will all be Macmillan trained, they will have the understanding and knowledge about our medication and treatments, they will be an ear for us, another option for us to talk to someone. I have on many occasions rang macmillan on their free phone number to talk, get things off my chest or ask for advice, but once everything is set in place with Boots Pharmacy, us cancer patients will have another drop in centre support line. The talks went really well, I was asked lots of questions and my opinion on how things could be changed for the better of cancer patients, I answered the best I could and hope that for every cancer patient out there, that I did good on their behalf.
I am feeling so bloody rough. The pain in my hip and back is getting worse and now to top that off, I have developed a very tight weird feeling in my chest again. I doubt very much that it is my right lung playing up again as the pain is different. Yes it stabs when I take a deep breath in, it hurts to cough, sneeze or laugh, but the pain feels tighter around the skin, its feels tight around the implant and is starting to pull more towards my arm pit. There is so much that can be said for saying I am walking around and feeling like a 90 yr old geriatric, because the way that I am feeling lately is a massive understatement from that. I am also havin to think of what I do before I do it, in case it triggers the agony that is going off in my right and left hip or my chest. Yes I said left and these days my left hip is giving me more jip than the right.. Initially they found pitting on my right hip in the scan that diagnosed me with bone metz 3 yrs ago, but from that day, my hip has never been discussed. At my last appointment, I mentioned my painful hip syndrome and described the pain the only why I could. That it’s a constant dull nagging pain that can at anytime give way and feel like the joint inside is bending the wrong way or more to the point a feeling of everything inside being cut to smithereens without any aid of pain relief or anaesthetic. My oncologist isn’t too concerned as nothing was showing up in my last scan, so for the time being he has prescribed me some other pain relief that will hopefully give me some relief, but until I get these new super ‘get rid of pain’ meds, it’s back to my home pharmacy of pain relief medication that just doesn’t seem to do anything apart from turn me into a drooling zombie sparked out on the sofa.
On Saturday 14th April I drove all the way to Doncaster, to visit my mum and go with my future sister in law to be measured up for my bridesmaid dress. Me in a bridesmaid dress, at the ripe old age of 45, well it will save on the cost of having to buy something. I was relieved that ’Jay’, Kerry’s sister said she was going to wear flat shoes, as this is going to give me a bloody great excuse for me to do the same, as there is no way that my aging, creaking old body will manage to stand in a pair of heals never mind have to walk around in them. Whether it was due to the excitement of spending the night and going out for a drink in my home town but everything seemed to be just fine as the pain of the last week was barely noticeable, well that was until late on in the afternoon while we were sat in the pub and I was tucking into what was now number 3 wine. My right breast was beginning to feel quite painful and more so towards my armpit. Our Kez (future sis-in-law) noticed me holding tightly to my underarm and asked if I was pain. “Wooo nothing that another wine won’t fix” I laughed, and hoped at the same time that it would be true.
The afternoon and evening was going great, talks of the wedding, and the talks and laughs of the sunbathing that the girls and everyone were going to do. It’s just a shame that I won’t be able to be with them for the actual wedding in Cyprus, but wow! a staggering £950 with the added cost of my medical insurance taking it to a total of £1500 for a week and that is without spending money is; well just way out of my depth and there is just no way that I could afford to pay it with the extravagance of my benefit income. I felt a bit out of it but was relieved when the talks went on about how they were all going to do their hair for the day, at least I didn’t have to worry about not being able to grip mine up, or getting the sleek look they were going to have and I didn’t have to worry about the hot humidity frizz. After more wine we all piled out of the pub and went down the road to the local Indian restaurant. Still talking about hair, which I have to point out, was getting on my friggin nerves by now and so had stopped really paying attention. I was smiling when I thought smiles were needed, I laughed when the others laughed and then “You look like your mum with your hair like that” Ooooh well I’m sorry, but I don’t really have a choice in the matter and apparently my wig looks better, Ok so yes, I know my wig looks better, it’s bound to cos it makes me look like I’ve got some friggin hair. The remark got to me and over and over in my mind; I kept thinking why should I wear my wig all the time, just to make me look normal and not look like my bloody mother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mum, she is gorgeous and had always hoped that when I grew up, I would be just like her, but the fact is that she is 22 years older than me and I do not want to be looking like her just yet. I made my excuses and told everyone that I was going to pop outside for a ciggie until we were ready to order food. I then cried my eyes out all the way to my mums, the remark had hurt, I was feeling bloody ugly and old as it was, with my inch of short hair and the endless amounts of frown, worry, laughter lines... oh fook it, they are bloody wrinkles and no matter how much you try to dress them up that they are not as bad as you think, they do in fact make you look bloody old, which I shouldn’t be looking at the age of 45. I had a good cry with my mum, and ranted on for hours “What the fook! Am I expected to walk around in my wig all the friggin time”, “I’ve got a good mind to shave what hair I have off and go to the bloody wedding bald”, “ How would they like to wear a hot, itchy wig all the time, have the worry of it blowing off in the wind or swivelling around to face the wrong way when they have too much to drink” (which I have to add, happened the last time I was out) They were sorry, and didn’t mean it in the way that I had took it, but the damage had been done. A perfect afternoon ruined because of my stupid self confidence, or lack of it, which lately seems to be getting lesser and lesser.
The following day, I drove back home and by the time I had gotten there my chest and underarm were a constant strong pain. It felt like I had a large boulder inside, pressing up against my ribcage. Ok Ok, I know; part of the treatment for bone metz is pain control, and I’ve been told time and time again that I should take the pain medication to keep the pain controlled rather than just taking them when it gets really bad and then expect them to work straight away, but I hate taking tablets and when you’ve had to take as many as I have over the past year, then I’m sure you would be the same too. The pain meds unfortunately are out, they are in me and trying to do what they are supposed to do, but failing miserably.
Tomorrow I have to go up to the hospital to pick up my chemo, and the new pain meds, so if the pain hasn’t eased or if it’s gotten worse by then, I will have a word with one of the doctors or nurses and let them put my mind at ease, cos at the moment my mind is doing the over drive bit. Its cancer in my rib cage, its cancer under my arm, its cancer, its cancer, its cancer and its fooking growing out of control which means that the chemo aint working, and then the thinking goes onto a whole new level of the worst, and of how long have I got.
I was very apprehensive of taking the chemo. I sat there with the little boxes laid out in front of me. My usual dosage of 100mg had been lowered to 80mg, 1 tablet less to take. I felt sick at the thought of it taking it, as I knew that as soon as these small pills were down my throat that there would be no turning back. If they made me ill again, then I would have to see the full cycle through or this dose through, because if this dose did make me feel as shitty as it had done before, then there is no way on this planet that I am going to take the day 8 dose. For Christ’s sake I was gipping with just taking my pre meds of anti sickness and diahrea pill, and then half an hour later doing the same while I was snipping the little chemo pill packets open. The pre meds make me feel light headed and with the chemo on top of that, I was feeling nausea’s and pretty dam light headed and dizzy.
It was a glorious day, the sun was out in its bestest summer frock and smiling down on everything, so I decided to go and get me some good old vitamin D and got laid out on the sun lounger. Now this is the life, not a care in the world, well when I’m laid down anyway. Standing up is a totally different story of having to hold on to something to steady myself in fear of my going wooo wooo so frickin dizzy that I weeble woobles and does fall all the way down.
The following day, as usual, I was pretty exhausted from the lack of sleep that I was able to get during the night; this was either from me sweating the duvet off, battering the hell out of my pillow that felt like a hot water bottle or running to the loo. The diahrea tablets seemed to have worked, because touch wood, I have had no diahrea yet, but in its place I have been left with the biggest wind machine ever, and due to my previous experience of the chemo diahrea, I had the need to go to the loo every time I needed to fart, just in case, well you know what I’m saying (just incase I I followed through and shit myself) I can’t believe that this chemo tablet has actually made a lady of me. Who would have believed it, me going to the loo to fart! Whopps sorry, I will rephrase that, me going to the ladies room to pass wind ha ha. Anyway, because of the total knackeredness and living in the UK with our absolutely gorgeous reliable weather (not), I again got laid out in the garden to take in some of the Sunshine and its vitamin D, which had Lee in stictches afterwards when he spotted me walking across the landing naked with a lovely pair of white shorts and vest permanently fixed to my skin. After a good lazy day and snoozeathon I was raring to go, so later on in the afternoon when the sun had cooled off a bit, Lee and I took the dogs out over to the field and Lake.
This chemo is going pretty well, so far getting out of the house has been impossible for me so soon after taking my dose and I put this down to standing up for myself and getting the dose lowered.
On Sunday 1st April, with me still feeling so bloody cocky from not feeling crap with this chemo, decided to take the dogs in the car for a good walk around Wollaton Park. Lee, Luke, Luke’s friend and Molly ran around the field with the football while little Max and I went and sat at the side of the lake to take in its beauty. The swans were giving the biggest display I have ever seen and don’t ask me how I did it, but my camera and I actually gelled for once and after a few click clicks, I caught a couple of what I think to be the best pictures I have taken to date.
It probably wasn’t a good idea to go off on so many walks, as my back and hips are killing me. I feel like I’ve just climbed up Ben Nevis, and so for the first time in ages, I have reached for the pain killers of paracetamol, ibropuphen and gabapentin, and when these didn’t give me any relief, started downing the orimorph.Day 8 pills were taken with only a slight hesitation of them going to make me feel crap, I’d had a good week, so why would this week be any different. I did feel very tired, but I think this could be down to the pain relief that I am taking which hopefully will sort itself out, so I can put the medication to the back of the cupboard once again. Another thing that could be caused either from the chemo or from the pain medication is the stupid irritating itchy nose. I’m so friggin fed up of sniffing, sniffing because my nose feels like its dripping like a tap constantly, like I have turned into one of them snotty nosed kids that have snot running down over their top lip, but I haven’t. I am blowing it constantly, but its so dry, all I succeed in doing is making my nostrils sore and chapped. This sniffing is turning into one bloody annoying habit, that no wonder its a sign of going mad or a sign that you are going to get mad at the next person to say something to you, whether that something is nice or not.
The only thing that I have done productive this last week is to go on a talks meeting with Macmillan at the Boots Pharmacy head office. Being a little nervous about what to say and being so tired, I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. The staff were fantastic and it looks to be a great step forward that Macmillan and Boots are at last joining forces. Just think, we’ll be able to go into any Boots Pharmacy for our medication and all the staff will be able to talk to us and understand what we are going through as they will all be Macmillan trained, they will have the understanding and knowledge about our medication and treatments, they will be an ear for us, another option for us to talk to someone. I have on many occasions rang macmillan on their free phone number to talk, get things off my chest or ask for advice, but once everything is set in place with Boots Pharmacy, us cancer patients will have another drop in centre support line. The talks went really well, I was asked lots of questions and my opinion on how things could be changed for the better of cancer patients, I answered the best I could and hope that for every cancer patient out there, that I did good on their behalf.
I am feeling so bloody rough. The pain in my hip and back is getting worse and now to top that off, I have developed a very tight weird feeling in my chest again. I doubt very much that it is my right lung playing up again as the pain is different. Yes it stabs when I take a deep breath in, it hurts to cough, sneeze or laugh, but the pain feels tighter around the skin, its feels tight around the implant and is starting to pull more towards my arm pit. There is so much that can be said for saying I am walking around and feeling like a 90 yr old geriatric, because the way that I am feeling lately is a massive understatement from that. I am also havin to think of what I do before I do it, in case it triggers the agony that is going off in my right and left hip or my chest. Yes I said left and these days my left hip is giving me more jip than the right.. Initially they found pitting on my right hip in the scan that diagnosed me with bone metz 3 yrs ago, but from that day, my hip has never been discussed. At my last appointment, I mentioned my painful hip syndrome and described the pain the only why I could. That it’s a constant dull nagging pain that can at anytime give way and feel like the joint inside is bending the wrong way or more to the point a feeling of everything inside being cut to smithereens without any aid of pain relief or anaesthetic. My oncologist isn’t too concerned as nothing was showing up in my last scan, so for the time being he has prescribed me some other pain relief that will hopefully give me some relief, but until I get these new super ‘get rid of pain’ meds, it’s back to my home pharmacy of pain relief medication that just doesn’t seem to do anything apart from turn me into a drooling zombie sparked out on the sofa.
On Saturday 14th April I drove all the way to Doncaster, to visit my mum and go with my future sister in law to be measured up for my bridesmaid dress. Me in a bridesmaid dress, at the ripe old age of 45, well it will save on the cost of having to buy something. I was relieved that ’Jay’, Kerry’s sister said she was going to wear flat shoes, as this is going to give me a bloody great excuse for me to do the same, as there is no way that my aging, creaking old body will manage to stand in a pair of heals never mind have to walk around in them. Whether it was due to the excitement of spending the night and going out for a drink in my home town but everything seemed to be just fine as the pain of the last week was barely noticeable, well that was until late on in the afternoon while we were sat in the pub and I was tucking into what was now number 3 wine. My right breast was beginning to feel quite painful and more so towards my armpit. Our Kez (future sis-in-law) noticed me holding tightly to my underarm and asked if I was pain. “Wooo nothing that another wine won’t fix” I laughed, and hoped at the same time that it would be true.
The afternoon and evening was going great, talks of the wedding, and the talks and laughs of the sunbathing that the girls and everyone were going to do. It’s just a shame that I won’t be able to be with them for the actual wedding in Cyprus, but wow! a staggering £950 with the added cost of my medical insurance taking it to a total of £1500 for a week and that is without spending money is; well just way out of my depth and there is just no way that I could afford to pay it with the extravagance of my benefit income. I felt a bit out of it but was relieved when the talks went on about how they were all going to do their hair for the day, at least I didn’t have to worry about not being able to grip mine up, or getting the sleek look they were going to have and I didn’t have to worry about the hot humidity frizz. After more wine we all piled out of the pub and went down the road to the local Indian restaurant. Still talking about hair, which I have to point out, was getting on my friggin nerves by now and so had stopped really paying attention. I was smiling when I thought smiles were needed, I laughed when the others laughed and then “You look like your mum with your hair like that” Ooooh well I’m sorry, but I don’t really have a choice in the matter and apparently my wig looks better, Ok so yes, I know my wig looks better, it’s bound to cos it makes me look like I’ve got some friggin hair. The remark got to me and over and over in my mind; I kept thinking why should I wear my wig all the time, just to make me look normal and not look like my bloody mother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mum, she is gorgeous and had always hoped that when I grew up, I would be just like her, but the fact is that she is 22 years older than me and I do not want to be looking like her just yet. I made my excuses and told everyone that I was going to pop outside for a ciggie until we were ready to order food. I then cried my eyes out all the way to my mums, the remark had hurt, I was feeling bloody ugly and old as it was, with my inch of short hair and the endless amounts of frown, worry, laughter lines... oh fook it, they are bloody wrinkles and no matter how much you try to dress them up that they are not as bad as you think, they do in fact make you look bloody old, which I shouldn’t be looking at the age of 45. I had a good cry with my mum, and ranted on for hours “What the fook! Am I expected to walk around in my wig all the friggin time”, “I’ve got a good mind to shave what hair I have off and go to the bloody wedding bald”, “ How would they like to wear a hot, itchy wig all the time, have the worry of it blowing off in the wind or swivelling around to face the wrong way when they have too much to drink” (which I have to add, happened the last time I was out) They were sorry, and didn’t mean it in the way that I had took it, but the damage had been done. A perfect afternoon ruined because of my stupid self confidence, or lack of it, which lately seems to be getting lesser and lesser.
The following day, I drove back home and by the time I had gotten there my chest and underarm were a constant strong pain. It felt like I had a large boulder inside, pressing up against my ribcage. Ok Ok, I know; part of the treatment for bone metz is pain control, and I’ve been told time and time again that I should take the pain medication to keep the pain controlled rather than just taking them when it gets really bad and then expect them to work straight away, but I hate taking tablets and when you’ve had to take as many as I have over the past year, then I’m sure you would be the same too. The pain meds unfortunately are out, they are in me and trying to do what they are supposed to do, but failing miserably.
Tomorrow I have to go up to the hospital to pick up my chemo, and the new pain meds, so if the pain hasn’t eased or if it’s gotten worse by then, I will have a word with one of the doctors or nurses and let them put my mind at ease, cos at the moment my mind is doing the over drive bit. Its cancer in my rib cage, its cancer under my arm, its cancer, its cancer, its cancer and its fooking growing out of control which means that the chemo aint working, and then the thinking goes onto a whole new level of the worst, and of how long have I got.
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