Friday, February 24, 2006

Of course that picture of me looking as glamorous as I could when dressed as a ribena berry on the ski slopes was taken just before I sat down on the mountain having a panic attack and had to be rescued by ski patrol. A whole other story and adventure but I think in future I'll ski the Victoria Beckham way - glam up for the photoshoots and then take a nice sleigh ride.

So I've had a week of radiotherapy and my first chemo session and I keep telling myself "at least you're not throwing yourself down a mountain on narrow planks of plastic" (ok not plastic but you get my drift). I think it's working. But the drugs could be helping too. Given the choice beween skiing and chemo, it's a tough call but the idea of sitting in the sun watching the snow glinting and other people throwing themsleves off mountains is an attractive prospect.

I'm now on sleeping tablets. They have made the biggest difference to my well being - before I was feeling like an over tired 5 year old who had been eating too many e numbers. On edge didn't describe it. And I didn't feel rested even if I did sleep. Now I feel much more relaxed. I'm also on a VERY VERY low dose of anti depressant - that hasn't really kicked in, but it's more of a preventative measure - my therapist wants to keep me feeling as have been off late, which is handling things.

So what's the treatment like?

Radiotherapy is all about a constant schlepp to hospital - except weekends - and I always think well it will only be a few minutes, which it is but then there seems to be other stuff like bloods to do or people I need to see so I don't get out as quickly as I like. But in a nutshell, you have to lie on this metal slab/bed (no mattress) and in my case with my pants down to my thights with a small piece of paper covering my modesty. Then they manipulate you around so that your little tattooed dots line up with the lights and mark things in pen, then you lie there while they leave the room and you're left staring at a white ceiling with bright lights like a space ship and this thing circles you and targets your dots. Sound effects are mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. I am convinced that it's a form of dalek and it will start saying "exterminate, exterminate"!

Chemo is a long long day - lots of waiting around and bloods being taken and then more waiting. Then a canular put in, then a hour or two of fluid to get my kidneys going, then half an hour of something to make me pee, then two lots of anti sickness, then an hour of the actual chemo (cisplatin), then another two hours of fluid. Luckily I wasn't sick so they allowed me home after that and I could have the remaining 500mls of fluid at home, which includes soup etc. I felt a bit itchy and lightheaded almost but on the whole it wasn't too bad. It's a cummulative thing, so we'll see how I progress.

Roll on the end of March!!

Z xx

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hang on in there, Zoe. My mother died last week after three years of various treatments for ovarian cancer. She was too far gone for surgery, though, so it looks like yours was caught earlier (the GP spent six months telling her she had indigestion!). She had radiotherapy for brain tumours in the summer, and the improvement was immediate and dramatic, not only did she have six extra months we never thought she would have, she was mentally herself for all but the last two weeks.

Looks better for you. Thinking of you often.

Steely Dan (from TMF)

Anonymous said...

Keep your chin up Zoe. Oh how I remember the endless hanging around hospitals with my husband when he was in for appointments and chemo. There always seems to be another appointment somewhere - if it wasn't the hospital for 'bloods' or whatever, it was the gp who wanted to be kept advised, or the macmillan nurse, or the consultant. My husband' chemo used to be 24 hours worth - seemed like endless bags of fluid followed by 3 different chemicals followed by more fluid. We were so envious of the people who just popped in for a quick injection or a tablet! I'm not sure that my bottom has ever recovered from those endless hours in the visitors chair at the hospital. He was one of the 'lucky' ones who didn't get a lot of sickness from the chemo - the first 3 days afterwards was the worst and then he actually got quite a boost from it. Everyone varies. He used to get a dry little cough in those 3 days and would hiccup and burp a lot. Burning a 50/50 mixture of sandalwood oil and frankinsense essential oils seemed to stop this within minutes - worth bearing in mind if you ever get this.
My best wishes to both you and Matt
Philippa

blondie said...

Your treatment - sounds like you've got you great spirit going, keep your chin up to the stars. When on the bench with your knickers down you should be wearing a fancy pair, the best you've got. It will give the radiologists a thrill and you'll feel great under all those woolies.

Onto other things.... reading your comments what's the chance of a Philippa Fletcher and a Philippa Forsyth.... what's that about the phrenetic fff's. But again the F-word is the best expletive don't you agree.

Love you,
The Girl from Oz

P.S. Got megga great tix btw to see Hugh Jackman - Boy From Oz and am thrilled.

Kisses for you xoxoxoxo

Anonymous said...

Zoe - we love you and are sending you our bestest toughest happiest vibes in the whole world... Roll on the end of March, as you say. Do you get much time to sit around and watch DVDs (my friend who had chemo (testicular, so I imagine pretty unflattering, like your own situation) and radio, got to watch DVDs, I thought) - we've got a lovely Aussie series we could send you to pass the time.
Drop me an email if you get time.
All our love,
Karla, Sven and little Josh (who is now a fabulous 1 year old!)