Right then. Where were we? Oh yes, it was the 4th April and I was due to start the third round of PCV chemotherapy but my blood platelets had fallen below the minimum level to be able to undertake chemotherapy, so I'd been sent home for a week to concentrate on growing some more. Truth... Continue Reading →
People will always need platelets
As chemo cycle 3 loomed, I began to sleep less and worry more, until I came to a stunning realisation: I don't like chemo. As revelations go, it's not up there with Archimedes or Newton's; it was designed to be a medical treatment, not a barrel of laughs, but thus far I had been steadfastly... Continue Reading →
Pick an end, any end
With perfect timing, we arrived at hospital about 10 minutes before shift change, so had to wait whilst everything was handed over to the one Registrar who'd be in charge of four cancer wards for the night, poor kid. As there's a dedicated cancer hospital in Newcastle, there's no need to go via A&E, you... Continue Reading →
Your mother knits socks in hell
The first day of chemo started with a cup of decaffeinated tea, as prescribed by the safe foods list. It was of course, beyond rank. This whole chemotherapy lark better bloody be worth it, because as sacrifices go, decaff tea is up there with the worst of them. In the chemotherapy day unit, lots of... Continue Reading →
2018: Year of the chemo baby
The first cycle of chemotherapy is scheduled to begin on the 10th January. Barring allergies, poor blood counts or other surprises along the way, I will have six cycles of chemotherapy, with each cycle lasting six weeks. If everything stays on schedule, that's 36 weeks. 252 days. It'll be mid-September at the earliest before I'm... Continue Reading →