Chemo. Maybe no more

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foggy

Striker
I think it would have been 38. I didn’t really say much during the last two as they were tablet form. Nowhere near the hell that is the infusion based stuff that was due to go in now.

A recap. I had a scan back at the beginning of last month which showed control in the peri mets but not the liver. Then I was supposed to go back on to Folfox infusions but a bad liver blood diagnosis put paid to that. Well that and me turning up blinking trying to hide the pain in front of the not to be fooled chemo nurses.

Then a wait to see oncologist last week who said I could go ahead at the risk of damage to my liver. Like the bad type of damage. It’s giving me plenty of gyp anyway so fuck it. I take steroids to try and control the liver ‘capsule’ pain. These keep me awake and have mood affects but they work.

Another call this morning to cancel today’s treatment. Liver still no good. Bollocks.

The rest of my pain has hit new heights meaning a few visits from Macmillan to try and get a hold on it. Next visit is tomorrow. It’s all made worse by eating but I find that as necessary as everyone else. I’ve lost weight again although the steroids have got my sweet tooth buzzing.

I’m also pretty much housebound. No longer able to walk the dog. Movement ramps up the pain levels so unless there is a wonder drug to come then this is my lot. Accept and move on. I have plenty of help with the dog so I can enjoy the company side of things. She goes without nothing in the exercise stakes. My network of family and friends are tippety top. Plus she’s the world’s best dog so they love having her.

The bairn has been up and around before she goes back for post grad. I’m still up in the air about the degree result. When most things in life are a bit tough then the good bits shine out like a beacon.

I’m obsessed with leaving things organised. For her. Inheritance. The homey house stuff. It’s like a big bag pack. I’m long past the scared of death phase. I had anxiety last year but not now. I found the best way was to let the fear and desperation have its time. I couldn’t stop it happening so it was welcome to run its course. And it always did. I can’t stay scared of the same monster. It just becomes familiar. Unwanted but familiar.

I managed two outings to Northumberland. First with Bec in July. Then with our lass at the end of August. Just as Storm Bitchtits was here pissing down. The last one was tough pain wise but the cottage was cosy as.

Just off a video call with GP. The same GP who couldn’t sanction a scan back when I was 47. Yes really. To look and no doubt discover the first tumour. Instead I had an emergency op later on which allowed the baddies to plant themselves elsewhere leading to where I am now. Bygones. I could stress about it but it never helps.


All the best
 


I think it would have been 38. I didn’t really say much during the last two as they were tablet form. Nowhere near the hell that is the infusion based stuff that was due to go in now.

A recap. I had a scan back at the beginning of last month which showed control in the peri mets but not the liver. Then I was supposed to go back on to Folfox infusions but a bad liver blood diagnosis put paid to that. Well that and me turning up blinking trying to hide the pain in front of the not to be fooled chemo nurses.

Then a wait to see oncologist last week who said I could go ahead at the risk of damage to my liver. Like the bad type of damage. It’s giving me plenty of gyp anyway so fuck it. I take steroids to try and control the liver ‘capsule’ pain. These keep me awake and have mood affects but they work.

Another call this morning to cancel today’s treatment. Liver still no good. Bollocks.

The rest of my pain has hit new heights meaning a few visits from Macmillan to try and get a hold on it. Next visit is tomorrow. It’s all made worse by eating but I find that as necessary as everyone else. I’ve lost weight again although the steroids have got my sweet tooth buzzing.

I’m also pretty much housebound. No longer able to walk the dog. Movement ramps up the pain levels so unless there is a wonder drug to come then this is my lot. Accept and move on. I have plenty of help with the dog so I can enjoy the company side of things. She goes without nothing in the exercise stakes. My network of family and friends are tippety top. Plus she’s the world’s best dog so they love having her.

The bairn has been up and around before she goes back for post grad. I’m still up in the air about the degree result. When most things in life are a bit tough then the good bits shine out like a beacon.

I’m obsessed with leaving things organised. For her. Inheritance. The homey house stuff. It’s like a big bag pack. I’m long past the scared of death phase. I had anxiety last year but not now. I found the best way was to let the fear and desperation have its time. I couldn’t stop it happening so it was welcome to run its course. And it always did. I can’t stay scared of the same monster. It just becomes familiar. Unwanted but familiar.

I managed two outings to Northumberland. First with Bec in July. Then with our lass at the end of August. Just as Storm Bitchtits was here pissing down. The last one was tough pain wise but the cottage was cosy as.

Just off a video call with GP. The same GP who couldn’t sanction a scan back when I was 47. Yes really. To look and no doubt discover the first tumour. Instead I had an emergency op later on which allowed the baddies to plant themselves elsewhere leading to where I am now. Bygones. I could stress about it but it never helps.


All the best

Best thoughts Foggy lad 👍
 
I think it would have been 38. I didn’t really say much during the last two as they were tablet form. Nowhere near the hell that is the infusion based stuff that was due to go in now.

A recap. I had a scan back at the beginning of last month which showed control in the peri mets but not the liver. Then I was supposed to go back on to Folfox infusions but a bad liver blood diagnosis put paid to that. Well that and me turning up blinking trying to hide the pain in front of the not to be fooled chemo nurses.

Then a wait to see oncologist last week who said I could go ahead at the risk of damage to my liver. Like the bad type of damage. It’s giving me plenty of gyp anyway so fuck it. I take steroids to try and control the liver ‘capsule’ pain. These keep me awake and have mood affects but they work.

Another call this morning to cancel today’s treatment. Liver still no good. Bollocks.

The rest of my pain has hit new heights meaning a few visits from Macmillan to try and get a hold on it. Next visit is tomorrow. It’s all made worse by eating but I find that as necessary as everyone else. I’ve lost weight again although the steroids have got my sweet tooth buzzing.

I’m also pretty much housebound. No longer able to walk the dog. Movement ramps up the pain levels so unless there is a wonder drug to come then this is my lot. Accept and move on. I have plenty of help with the dog so I can enjoy the company side of things. She goes without nothing in the exercise stakes. My network of family and friends are tippety top. Plus she’s the world’s best dog so they love having her.

The bairn has been up and around before she goes back for post grad. I’m still up in the air about the degree result. When most things in life are a bit tough then the good bits shine out like a beacon.

I’m obsessed with leaving things organised. For her. Inheritance. The homey house stuff. It’s like a big bag pack. I’m long past the scared of death phase. I had anxiety last year but not now. I found the best way was to let the fear and desperation have its time. I couldn’t stop it happening so it was welcome to run its course. And it always did. I can’t stay scared of the same monster. It just becomes familiar. Unwanted but familiar.

I managed two outings to Northumberland. First with Bec in July. Then with our lass at the end of August. Just as Storm Bitchtits was here pissing down. The last one was tough pain wise but the cottage was cosy as.

Just off a video call with GP. The same GP who couldn’t sanction a scan back when I was 47. Yes really. To look and no doubt discover the first tumour. Instead I had an emergency op later on which allowed the baddies to plant themselves elsewhere leading to where I am now. Bygones. I could stress about it but it never helps.


All the best
You're such a strong, brave, decent man Foggy - a true inspiration and as ever I send my love and best wishes to you and the family. Just enjoy whatever you can whenever you can - we're all here for you, rooting for you and thinking about you.
A big 🤗 and a big 💋 from moi (dinnit tell your lass mind ;) xx)
 
I think it would have been 38. I didn’t really say much during the last two as they were tablet form. Nowhere near the hell that is the infusion based stuff that was due to go in now.

A recap. I had a scan back at the beginning of last month which showed control in the peri mets but not the liver. Then I was supposed to go back on to Folfox infusions but a bad liver blood diagnosis put paid to that. Well that and me turning up blinking trying to hide the pain in front of the not to be fooled chemo nurses.

Then a wait to see oncologist last week who said I could go ahead at the risk of damage to my liver. Like the bad type of damage. It’s giving me plenty of gyp anyway so fuck it. I take steroids to try and control the liver ‘capsule’ pain. These keep me awake and have mood affects but they work.

Another call this morning to cancel today’s treatment. Liver still no good. Bollocks.

The rest of my pain has hit new heights meaning a few visits from Macmillan to try and get a hold on it. Next visit is tomorrow. It’s all made worse by eating but I find that as necessary as everyone else. I’ve lost weight again although the steroids have got my sweet tooth buzzing.

I’m also pretty much housebound. No longer able to walk the dog. Movement ramps up the pain levels so unless there is a wonder drug to come then this is my lot. Accept and move on. I have plenty of help with the dog so I can enjoy the company side of things. She goes without nothing in the exercise stakes. My network of family and friends are tippety top. Plus she’s the world’s best dog so they love having her.

The bairn has been up and around before she goes back for post grad. I’m still up in the air about the degree result. When most things in life are a bit tough then the good bits shine out like a beacon.

I’m obsessed with leaving things organised. For her. Inheritance. The homey house stuff. It’s like a big bag pack. I’m long past the scared of death phase. I had anxiety last year but not now. I found the best way was to let the fear and desperation have its time. I couldn’t stop it happening so it was welcome to run its course. And it always did. I can’t stay scared of the same monster. It just becomes familiar. Unwanted but familiar.

I managed two outings to Northumberland. First with Bec in July. Then with our lass at the end of August. Just as Storm Bitchtits was here pissing down. The last one was tough pain wise but the cottage was cosy as.

Just off a video call with GP. The same GP who couldn’t sanction a scan back when I was 47. Yes really. To look and no doubt discover the first tumour. Instead I had an emergency op later on which allowed the baddies to plant themselves elsewhere leading to where I am now. Bygones. I could stress about it but it never helps.


All the best

Thinking of you marra and hope they manage to get a hold on the pain for you.

Sorry to hear your housebound but pleased you have pooch to keep you company. I'm just a couple of miles up the road. If you get stuck for help and need anything dropping off, give me a shout. Loads of love 😘
 
I'm not one for this 'fight' shite. It's not a battle is it? Just a fuckin' shit-fest. We all go in the end don't we. Some with a choice of how to go and some without. You've always come across on here as one of the good guys. I guess that's what most of us would like to be known for. Still ... You're not fuckin' dead yet, so hope to hear from you for a good while longer. Peace & Love, Davey.
 
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