It's A Chemical World.

The week of my first cycle of chemotherapy had arrived. It was a cold but sunny winters day. I had arrived at the Hospital Phlebotomy Department to give a sample of my blood the analysis of which would determine if I could go ahead with the treatment the following day. Sample given I waited in the Portacabin that passed for a waiting room. Results through. Green light means go! I went home to steel myself for the next day. After a fairly uneventful taxi ride to the hospital I arrived at the Chemotherapy Day Unit. I checked in at reception at took a seat in the waiting area. I was both nervous and strangely excited, probably due to the steroids I had to take prior to having the chemo. After a short wait I was called through to take a seat in the Chemotherapy suite. The chairs were a well worn, beige version of a 1970's recliner. I chose a seat near the window and picked up a few Top Gear magazines from the stack of well passed their sell by date mags. After a couple of pages in (just passed the adverts) a Nurse came over to me and introduced herself as the person who would be giving me my treatment for the day. Pleasantries exchanged she plunged my left hand into a bowl of hot water to retrieve my veins which had gone into hiding, partly due to the cold weather partly due to fear! After a few minutes she painlessly inserted a cannula into a nice fat vein. And so it begins.. A flush of saline and then a small bag of Piriton... Two Paracetamol... And then my new best friend litre bag of Rituximab (diluted in more saline) This was administered over a period of six hours, slowly at first, then more quickly as I was coping well with it. To be honest, apart from feeling snoozy ( due to the piriton) I wondered what all the fuss was about? Does chemotherapy really make you feel awful? (as I was told it would) I would find out the next day when I was to come back for the three other drugs in the regime.

Not on the NHS love!!

A couple of weeks after hearing the news I had cancer I received an appointment for the Haematology clinic. The day arrived and I had absolutely no idea what to expect regarding the treatment I would need to treat my cancer. Clinic ran late . I eventually got in to see my Consultant and Clinical nurse specialist plus three other nursing staff. It felt like I was attending a board meeting! The Team explained my diagnosis in detail.. I had  Non Hodgkin's High Grade Lymphoma Diffused Large B Cell..The bulk of which had been removed during my operation. It was attached to my liver,spleen,left kidney and aorta. It was also weaving in and out of my small intestine. I also found out I was "growing" two smaller tumors in my groin. It was then explained to me that I would be receiving eight cycles of R-CHOP chemotherapy over about six months with a scan after four cycles to see how things were progressing. I had two weeks to wait before commencing the chemo regime. but before that I had to have Blood tests and be weighed. I also had to have a Bone marrow aspiration. I had no idea what that entailed, which in hindsight was probably a good thing! To say it is a painful process is a wee bit of an understatement! Luckily I couldn't see what was going on but apparently the consultant used a corkscrew type tool to drill into my hip bone to get the sample he needed. A nurse offered to hold my hand during the process. I made her cry because I squeezed her hand too tight! She was ok though. And after resting for a couple of hours in the day area , so was I. The Clinical nurse specialist came to see how was getting on. She then asked me if I wanted to give a "sample" because the chemo was going to make me sterile. I asked how this would be taken.. I was a bit nervous after the bone marrow collection! She explained that I would be given a plastic tube for the specimen, a "magazine" and about 5 minutes! I enquired if a nurse would be available to help? She said "not on the NHS love... Maybe on BUPA but not here! We both collapsed in fits of laughter.. I actually felt better and the gravity of the whole day had evaporated.. Oh I declined to give a sample by the way!..
I received the date of my first cycle of chemo...December the 21st... Happy xmas!

....And on that bombshell!

After a total of 11 days in hospital I was allowed to go home. I said my farewells to the excellent medical / nursing staff, my fellow inmates and booked a taxi for the 11 mile journey home. To say it was one of the most uncomfortable journeys I have ever undertaken would be an understatement. I felt every piece of gravel in the road. My belly wobbled painfully at every jolt. I was relieved to get home in one piece. I settled in, unpacked and then went to sleep for 9 hours!
A week later the District nurse called to remove my staples from my abdomen. To say this was a weird feeling would be an understatement! Still once done it was nice to give the wound a bit of a scratch as it was just a tad itchy! The next day, a letter arrived from the hospital for a follow up appointment to see how i was healing after the operation. I felt good and I was able to do more each day.
The day of the hospital appointment arrived and this time the taxi ride was a hell of a lot more comfortable! I waited in outpatients and was eventually called through by a nurse into a small side room. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited to see my surgeon who I thought was coming to examine me today. A while later  a Doctor came into the room and introduced herself as an assistant to my surgeon and she was attending to me as he was too ill to come to work today. I lifted my shirt as requested so she could examine my wound. She prodded and poked about and asked me how I was coping with the pain. After I had answered all of her questions, she got up to leave the room, and while she had her hand on the door handle she turned to me and said " Oh did you know it was Cancer?" "Erm... No" i replied "someone will be in touch" she said and promptly disappeared through the door! The taxi ride home seemed like the longest journey I have ever undertaken.....

The Fine Art Of Surfacing.

You hear the sounds of your surroundings long before you completely wake from the effects of your artificially induced sleep. I could hear the feint whispers of the nurses in the Intensive care unit where I now lay after my operation. As soon as I opened my eyes I was greeted by the vision of a Nurse who was standing next to my trolley/bed. I said my hello's and was gobsmacked to find out I had been "out of it" for 6 hours! I was so thirsty but all I could have was a small pink sponge on a stick which was moistened with a Mouthwash of sorts to rub around my mouth, No drinks allowed yet because of a risk of vomiting due to the  effects of the anesthetic. I lifted my head to try and take a glimpse of my Belly where the operation took place. But to no avail. There was a large gauze in place blocking the view! I saw I had a small pair of tubes up my nose giving me a small amount of oxygen. I felt relatively pain free (due to the epidural in my lower spine) I asked one of the nurses where I was and she explained I was in Intensive care due to the fact that I was a little tachycardic during the operation and they were just keeping a eye on me until my heart settled down. I drifted off to sleep again. When I woke for the second time I was back in my ward. It was then that I noticed I was attached to a couple of drips on stands and a pump or two. The tubes supplying the oxygen where still there too. But it was reassuring to get back to the ol' ward!
I was tended to by a number of nurses both male and female during my return to the ward. I couldn't fault the amount of attention I was receiving.... And so to sleep.
It was definitely morning, The sun was shining through the blinds of the ward. The tubes had gone from my nose and a jug of water and a small plastic beaker were placed on the table next to my bed. I battled with the tubes sticking from my arms and managed to pour myself a beaker of water. The luke warm liquid, probably tap water, never tasted so good.
I Settled back in my bed, picked up the photocopied menu for the lunch of the day and chose a lamb curry...... Time to heal......

Under the knife

After being assessed in A&E I was admitted to a surgical ward. I was still in the dark regarding my condition. The doctors continued to "umm and arr" without really discussing anything with me, almost as if I wasn't there. The ward was all male and I made a couple of pals, mainly through a mutual enjoyment of football! This helped pass the time away while I was waiting to see what the next plan of action would entail? After two days of pain management and scans I finally got to meet my consultant. He was a really helpful and discussed in layman's terms what was about to happen. He explained that they were going to examine the "mass" they had discovered on one of the scans. They would be doing this by "keyhole surgery" and then expanding the operation if necessary to remove the offending article. The operation was going to take place in two days time and I was to be the first on the table! The next day or so passed quite quickly and as the pain was under control I enjoyed the company of my fellow "inmates". The day before the operation was spent filling out consent forms a being visited by numerous doctors and at least one anesthetist. There was also another visit from my appointed consultant who was accompanied by a flock of junior doctors who had come to "prod" my abdomen as I was a good example for them to carry out that two fingered tap test thing they do! Everyone and their dog had a go, which to be honest was quite funny! The night before the op I payed a visit to the chapel. Now this was a bit of a revelation for me as I had long since given up religion, but I found the peace and quiet of the small room soothing and it gave me time to reflect on my situation. On returning to the ward I was greeted by a nurse with a glass of water and a small brown tablet. She assured me that I needed to take the afore mentioned pill to "clear out my system" in preparation for the operation. Pill taken, I retired to my bed. That was around 9.30 pm. I was woken at around 12 midnight by strange gurgling sounds emitting from my stomach which were accompanied by a weird pulling sensation in my bowel. I sat it out for as long as I could bare. Then I had to sprint to the toilet where the world fell out of my bottom. This happened four or five times over the next two hours until I could go no more! I managed to grab a couple of hours shut eye before the porters arrived to escort me to the operating theater. I was helped onto the trolley and made my way down the maze of corridors to the theater reception. I then signed another consent form and was then moved through to small reception area where I had Lines inserted and a epidural fitted. My consultant popped out of the operating theater doors to say " see you soon"! As the doors swung open I was able to glimpse inside and see the room in all its clinical glory. The large light above the table was warming up to full power. The rows and rows of instruments could be seen gleaming in metal trays. I suddenly felt very small and afraid. It was then that the anesthetist who had administered my epidural gave me peace by uttering the immortal line " count back from ten" I think I made it to seven!

Signs

Fatigue... Could it have been working shifts? long commutes to and from work? The episodes of fatigue were getting worse. almost debilitating. Just finding the strength to drive home after work was becoming impossible. There were other signs too. Increasing attacks of indigestion, lack of appetite and night sweats. These now prompted me to visit my G.P. His initial diagnosis was a stomach ulcer due to stress and he prescribed anti acid medication. I Took the anti acid medication as prescribed but to no avail, the indigestion continued, even increased. A week later I returned to the G.P's surgery to see what could be done as the indigestion was seriously effecting my appetite and was contributing to a worrying amount of weight loss which I could ill afford. This time my G.P. reffered me to my local hospital for a ultrasound scan to determine the cause of my symptoms. The appointment soon came around. The waiting room for the Ultrasound department was full of young mum's to be and I felt so very out of place! My turn came and my upper abdomen was smothered in very cold gel. personally I'm rubbish at deciphering ultrasound images and what I could see on the screen could have been anything, but I was reliably informed that there was a "mass" and it had it's own blood supply! Ok ... Things really go through your mind when you are told this and you have a vivid imaginaton! Have you seen the film Alien? I was told I would be given an appointment to see a specialist. In what? I've no idea. Exorcism perhaps? A week later I pre empted everyone by taking myself to A&E as I was in so much pain it was unbelivable.