On the final legs - of treatment, that is!

Pete's Points

I seem to have been off line for a few days. The truth is that there is nothing really newsworthy to report.

I am in the final stages of this treatment regime and have five more days of treatment to go. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and then Monday again.

Given that the last three treatments will be accompanied by chemo therapy, that last week from Thursday to the following Thursday will be one of the longest I have yet to experience.

For those of my readers who may be confused by this comment let me elucidate!

It takes 48 hours to purge most of the effects of the drugs from the system!

Thus on Sunday night of next week, I will just be at the edge of purging myself of the impact of the drugs when guess what - I have to return to get another dose and then of course wait yet another 48 hours to get rid of THAT accumulated stuff.

To get the maximum benefits of the chemo therapy I am advised that it has to take place some three to four hours before the radio therapy. This means that one gets up early so that one can be at the hospital by 8 am to sit in a chair quietly while the nursing staff undertake the work required to inject some more of that awful stuff called 5FU into the veins. Together with the 0.5 liter of saline, and other drugs that are designed to assist with minimising the side effects of the poison that is being infused into the system this takes around 3/4 to one hour in total.

At 9 am there will be simply nothing to do but find a place to sit and wait comfortably (or otherwise) for the four hours to pass until it is time to get a shot of radiation.

So somewhere in the hospital grounds (always a pleasant place to spend one's time) I will have to sit and wait to walk to the radiation oncology unit and hop up onto their table and once again bask in glorious x rays for a minute or two and then go home and allow the side effects to accumulate and take their toll!

Think about it! Virtually 7 am - 2 pm for three days awaiting such 'joys'.

The things people will do just to try and ensure another day of survival!

Yes, I am feeling sorry for myself. Yes, I am having a moment of bizarre reflection.

It is an interesting position to be in. On the one hand you can look forward to the end of the torture and realise that some of the worst is yet to come, including the horror of simply not knowing when all of this will start again and whether or not the next time there will be no 'happy ending' - in other words continuing survival!

If ever I have seen a juxtaposition between the carrot and stick approach to motivation - this has to be it!

On the one hand, the last thing you want to do is to break the treatment in the middle so that you get NONE of its positive effects. On the other, knowing what you are in for, having experienced the "joys" of the combined drug and radio therapy before, there is a tendency to run screaming as far as you can get, away from all of this treatment and hide somewhere under a protective umbrella of denial.

Small surprise therefore that I have been visiting the video rental shop and obtaining entire series of science fiction movies at a time, for viewing!

Talk about escapism!

While you watch the characters deal with all sorts of issues in a 'galaxy far far away' there is somehow a moment of time in which you can escape from the reality of a world that is filled with thoughts that you would rather not have intrude into the tiny space where your mind has curled up cringing in expectation of what is to come.

Still some sanity and unfortunately, reality, has to intrude into this pure escapism and so this morning I once again divest myself or whatever 'protection' I have been able to obtain, thanks to the escapist media, and reinsert myself once again into the real world where life seems to consist of getting dressed and going to the hospital, appearing cheerful all the while, waiting for the next round of 'stuff' to happen and then still maintaining the cheerful exterior, going home and finally being able to give in, to the terror of waiting for the next unexpected outcome from the treatment to show it's ugly head.

I still find it morbidly curious that whenever you visit a hospital or a medical practitioner they ask you how you are. I know, intellectually of course, that they are trying to elicit a report about your symptoms and the impact of their treatment, but somehow the social conventions that one learns seem to get in the way of an answer.

There is a tendency to minimise any reportage of illness and feeling awful and instead to respond with a cheery and seemingly heartfelt,

"I'm well thanks, how about you?"

It's pitiful really!

These social conventions that require one to hide one's real response which would be(were the conventions not present) more likely along the lines of:

"Actually the reason I pay you a fortune to practice your medical specialty is for YOU to tell ME how I am!" or

"How am I? You can sit there, and knowing you have just injected me with poisons that you take enormous trouble to protect yourself from, knowing what the side effects are, you have the gall to ask ME how I am?" or

"Sh*t house! That's how I am! Stop asking daft questions! Just get on with it!"

Of course none of these responses really are available within the repertoire.

Each and every one of these responses could get you into serious trouble! After all, what if the person is offended? Will they make sure that the needle that they stick into you becomes an 'oops sorry about that!' moment? Will there be some comforting piece of news that is withheld because you are the patient from hell who deserves no sympathy and who needs to be 'punished' for being outspoken?

So repressing any anger, annoyance, or indeed anything else, including the traditional response, there is a need to find a small space where you can calmly and rationally describe any and all of the symptoms you have been experiencing, however small and ridiculous they may seem to you, because in the hands of a trained professional they MAY actually mean something that will help them to alter your treatment or to provide you with ancillary assistance that will alleviate the issues you raise.

Once again you have to somehow maintain control between the world of fantasy where you would LIKE certain things to happen and the world of reality where things do happen and you simply have to make the best of what you have available to you.

Enough of this maudlin conversation - it's time to get up and take my medicine! Literally!