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| Hello again kids, Well, the end to an eventful week, and it can't come soon enough, I hate these stressful weeks. I really don't like scans. I sat in my room awaiting the results on Wednesday, I was hoping they'd come quite early but I was to be disappointed. The nurse came in and tried to do a canula, 2 failed attempts in the left (including one in the hand, which KNACKS) and she went and got someone else who is a bit of a canula expert to help. She had a go in the right hand (again, it fucking KNACKED) before they went in to the same vein on the right wrist. What a trooper of a vein, it could have been even more painful if it wasn't for that vein. And then we waited. And waited. Stress levels went through the roof. Every knock at the door had the heart racing. Took until about half 3 (he normally pops in at about 12, couldn't help but think 'is he delaying me because he wants to end on giving someone terrible news rather than it spoil his day?'. Everything goes through your head. To be fair he will have just been held up at St. Barts (his NHS job) where he treats kids, can't complain). I saw his underling earlier in the day and he was fairly stony faced so that didn't give me much hope. Main doc eventually came in and said I was a bit of a 'paradox' as my blood results were improved again but the scan showed no change in the tumour. But he didn't realise the last scan was 3 months ago and since that scan and before chemo it will have grown significantly so it has obviously done good. He thought i looked well and when he realised that about the scan he was very pleased. So I was pleased. My blood results being better again is very good news too, more options come open if they continue to improve. I saw my liver doctor later in the day, absolutely lovely man, he just popped in to say hello, big jolly Irish fella. who knows all about Sunderland so always has a bit chat about that. But he was really pleased with how things were going too. He was really nice when he left, saying 'you keep on fighting because we are getting somewhere' I assured him I would be fighting. But you could tell he meant it, I'll always remember the referral letter he sent to the second oncologist where he called me and the missus 'a delightful couple'. So I'm having this chemo, another one and then a rescan and take it from there. The rest was all fairly straightforward. Bags of chemo dripped in, lots of close shit calls as there was a lip underneath the bathroom door making drip stand movement troublesome. At least I didn't shit myself this time, the only bonus! Finished quite early so got home in good time, nice bath (two of) and a chinese takeaway, which was bloody lovely. I've been 'not bad' today. Did a shop at sainsburys and was crippled by a poo need midway through the shop even though I had a shit before I left The toilets were rank so I just had to hover above one and unleash my shitstorm. Quite an upleasant experience. Combined with the fact it was like lava made it even worse. I walked round the isles afterwards going 'oooh, ahh, fuck' which must have looked odd. My bumhole was on fire. Just been relaxing today and having lots of superheated poos, hey ho. But on the bright side, they didn't tell me I had two weeks to live or whatever, which is always a possibility when you haven't had a scan for ages. I hope none of you ever have to go through the horror of waiting for a scan result, it really is psychological torture, probably the hardest thing about this whole cancer thing. it's that awful drippy poem time:- She holds my faith in her fragile hands, whenever I stumble her heart is my crutch, I swim in her life-giving being, as one together time fades from sight, I face all tides, the undertow slips from my feet, free, free to breathe in the beauty, I'm in thrall to her gaze, rest in her love, my everything is hers. | ||
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