I am officially cancer free - for now



smashing news. too much shitty news knocking about of SAFC fans of late so great to hear this one has gone your way. fingers crossed it stays that way fella.
 
foggy said:
So. Back in January they told me some bits of my big tumour, my bugger on of 2017, that had split my bowel before being removed in bit of an emergency operation, had planted themselves in my abdominal lining, my peritoneum, and I was now incurable, terminal, on palliative chemotherapy or in its shortest version, fucked.

I would have a new brew of chemotherapy to put the brakes on. Hopefully. Tests had shown my cancer to be rather aggressive. I imagined it had sharp teeth and a bad attitude.

There was however, a silver lining. A few surgeons/hospitals in this wonderful National Health Service that we have, where there is a network of people who might just fix you with surgery carried out by a select few, and others who use the communication channels available nationally, to actually get you on the operating table wherever it was in this country, might be able to have a bash at fixing me.

It turned out Basingstoke was my Shangri-La.

This was dependent on the cancer with teeth's reaction to the new chemo and my cancer markers. They had to be less than 20 or summat. And I had to be in good condition so I didn't peg it under the knife.

In May I found the brakes had indeed been put on. Chemo was shit but it was filing those teeth so I cracked on. And droned on on here in the meanwhile. Sorry about that but thanks for the support.

In July I went to Basingstoke to see a very nice man from Greece who talked at length about my cancer, with scan pictures on the computer and everything. I scored 5 on the cancer marker and unlikely to peg it so was offered Cytoreduction and Hipec to Debulk me. Fuck yes.

I wrote about that too. It hurt a bit and for a long time. It still hurts but my kitchen cupboard second from the right as the top has more painkillers than Boots so I can mange.

Last week I went to Bishop Auckland hospital for a CT scan, Thorax, Abdomen and Pelvis with Dye. 3 months after the Op.

Today I had a phonecall.

I am NED. The best word in cancerland. No Evidence of Disease. To quote. Nothing in bowel, peritoneum, liver, lungs, bones - the usual suspect spread in my type of cancer. And my lymphs show no enlargement. Yay, go my lymphs you non swelling bastards.

Recurrence is 'very common' but right now I do not have cancer. And that my good friends feels f***ing fantastic.

All the best.
Click to expand...
Thank the Lord for that, it means you'll stop waffling on on here at all hours of the day and night


Always good to hear someone's kicked shit out of the bastard. And encouraging that the NHS has a hero or two still fighting the good fight.
 
Fecking superb news Foggy mate, having a bit of a shit time at the moment personally, one thing after another going wrong and right down in the dumps with myself but this has honestly lifted the gloom over me in a massive way.
I've never met you as far as I know but I'm truely made up, Haway the Foggmeister.
 
It's been an inspiration to me and no doubt many others to read your posts over the past few months @foggy. The way you've tackled your own f***ing impending death with humour, humility, bravery and dignity has been nothing short of spectacular imo and you've made me appreciate all the little things I'd taken for granted in life. Your posts have literally been life changing for me and I can't thank you enough for sharing these horrible bastard months with myself and the people of this board.

Thank you, foggy lad. I seriously wish you all the best.
 
This is fantastic news. Nee need to ditch the bucket list though. Live life to the max. Look forward to seeing you van-surf into the stadium of light teen-wolf style in the near future.
 
Fantastic news Foggy absolutely inspirational over this last year. Congratulations to you , all of your family and friends and to the magnificent doctors and nurses of the NHS wherever they may be. They are just fantastic. Enjoy Christmas and might see you down Chester park with your dog. I’m there 3 times a day with mine.
 
foggy said:
So. Back in January they told me some bits of my big tumour, my bugger on of 2017, that had split my bowel before being removed in bit of an emergency operation, had planted themselves in my abdominal lining, my peritoneum, and I was now incurable, terminal, on palliative chemotherapy or in its shortest version, fucked.

I would have a new brew of chemotherapy to put the brakes on. Hopefully. Tests had shown my cancer to be rather aggressive. I imagined it had sharp teeth and a bad attitude.

There was however, a silver lining. A few surgeons/hospitals in this wonderful National Health Service that we have, where there is a network of people who might just fix you with surgery carried out by a select few, and others who use the communication channels available nationally, to actually get you on the operating table wherever it was in this country, might be able to have a bash at fixing me.

It turned out Basingstoke was my Shangri-La.

This was dependent on the cancer with teeth's reaction to the new chemo and my cancer markers. They had to be less than 20 or summat. And I had to be in good condition so I didn't peg it under the knife.

In May I found the brakes had indeed been put on. Chemo was shit but it was filing those teeth so I cracked on. And droned on on here in the meanwhile. Sorry about that but thanks for the support.

In July I went to Basingstoke to see a very nice man from Greece who talked at length about my cancer, with scan pictures on the computer and everything. I scored 5 on the cancer marker and unlikely to peg it so was offered Cytoreduction and Hipec to Debulk me. Fuck yes.

I wrote about that too. It hurt a bit and for a long time. It still hurts but my kitchen cupboard second from the right as the top has more painkillers than Boots so I can mange.

Last week I went to Bishop Auckland hospital for a CT scan, Thorax, Abdomen and Pelvis with Dye. 3 months after the Op.

Today I had a phonecall.

I am NED. The best word in cancerland. No Evidence of Disease. To quote. Nothing in bowel, peritoneum, liver, lungs, bones - the usual suspect spread in my type of cancer. And my lymphs show no enlargement. Yay, go my lymphs you non swelling bastards.

Recurrence is 'very common' but right now I do not have cancer. And that my good friends feels f***ing fantastic.

All the best.
Click to expand...
GET THE FUCK IN
 
foggy said:
So. Back in January they told me some bits of my big tumour, my bugger on of 2017, that had split my bowel before being removed in bit of an emergency operation, had planted themselves in my abdominal lining, my peritoneum, and I was now incurable, terminal, on palliative chemotherapy or in its shortest version, fucked.

I would have a new brew of chemotherapy to put the brakes on. Hopefully. Tests had shown my cancer to be rather aggressive. I imagined it had sharp teeth and a bad attitude.

There was however, a silver lining. A few surgeons/hospitals in this wonderful National Health Service that we have, where there is a network of people who might just fix you with surgery carried out by a select few, and others who use the communication channels available nationally, to actually get you on the operating table wherever it was in this country, might be able to have a bash at fixing me.

It turned out Basingstoke was my Shangri-La.

This was dependent on the cancer with teeth's reaction to the new chemo and my cancer markers. They had to be less than 20 or summat. And I had to be in good condition so I didn't peg it under the knife.

In May I found the brakes had indeed been put on. Chemo was shit but it was filing those teeth so I cracked on. And droned on on here in the meanwhile. Sorry about that but thanks for the support.

In July I went to Basingstoke to see a very nice man from Greece who talked at length about my cancer, with scan pictures on the computer and everything. I scored 5 on the cancer marker and unlikely to peg it so was offered Cytoreduction and Hipec to Debulk me. Fuck yes.

I wrote about that too. It hurt a bit and for a long time. It still hurts but my kitchen cupboard second from the right as the top has more painkillers than Boots so I can mange.

Last week I went to Bishop Auckland hospital for a CT scan, Thorax, Abdomen and Pelvis with Dye. 3 months after the Op.

Today I had a phonecall.

I am NED. The best word in cancerland. No Evidence of Disease. To quote. Nothing in bowel, peritoneum, liver, lungs, bones - the usual suspect spread in my type of cancer. And my lymphs show no enlargement. Yay, go my lymphs you non swelling bastards.

Recurrence is 'very common' but right now I do not have cancer. And that my good friends feels f***ing fantastic.

All the best.
Click to expand...
Fuckin fantastic news marra. Owwer the moon for ya. Haway the fighting spirt.
HERRING YA BASSA
 

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