Chemo days, drifting away


When the nurses found out I was back in for more chemo a look of fear washed over their faces. They insisted I needed a port inserted into my chest because my veins are now less than useless for putting anything into. In what was the strangest operation I’ve had so far, I was put under some very strong local anaesthetic. Any time someone talked to me I could answer clearly and I could move on command. Other than that, I have absolutely no idea what happened during the op, and then fell into a blissful sleep. I woke up very confused about what had happened in the last few hours and with yet another wound on the right side of my body. It reminded me a little bit too much of my nights out in my early 20’s. Other than that, it was my smoothest round of chemo so far. I have had very limited side effects, the main one – as ever – being fatigue. I countered this by following my doctors’ advice and staying active: walking as much as possible and smashing my mates at table tennis after kicking some school kids off the table at the Decathlon next to my flat. In other news, I think my competitive side is back.

Some of my other achievements this month:
  • I have managed to work pretty consistently, heading in a few days in the month and working from home when I can’t. It’s been good for me: giving me a distraction and making me feel like I’m living my old life as much as ever. I’ve felt pretty useful as well. Doing real work!
  • I didn’t manage to get abroad but I did get around to visiting the charming English towns of Cheltenham and Salisbury, seeing a couple of my best mates visiting from Switzerland and meeting their son, (and my new godson! maybe) for the first time. Their little boy (and my extremely cute godson! potentially) Kit tried some pureed potato which we later found out was akin to torturing him, and then proceeded to look adoringly into my eyes. I’m going to be a great godfather.
    My godson (almost definitely). Actually it's his mum when she was a kid.

  • I have watched almost every match in the cricket world cup. Skipping a few for work, obviously. Real work! It’s like déjà-vu from last summer, England in the semi-finals (a mention for the women football team as well, who were robbed) and an anxious optimism in the air. The only difference is this year, England are going to bring it home. Rather than it being everyone, really, it’s just me because everybody thinks cricket is dull.
  • Speaking of dull, I’ve improved my chess rating online to 1300. Chemo is still a limiting factor and sure to bring it down again but for now, those old Eastern European men are full of shame and I think my response against the Russians has been more effective than Teresa May’s approach. 
  • I managed to hold on to my hair until right up to the end of the third week of chemo. Then I decided to go for a number 3 cut this time to see if it would stick around but a splash of cold water later and there were patches everywhere, so I ended back in the barbers and even more bald than before. I thought I had a real chance of keeping it this time , but it seems I’m destined to look like The Rock forever. I’ve also managed to regrow some awful facial hair in the last week to distract from it and people keep telling me how pretty my eyelashes are so all is well. 
  • I’m finally learning the guitar that I bought on a whim a few months ago. I’ve smashed the first 4 chords and I’m looking forward to being able to change between them. After that I will be able to play the entire Oasis back catalogue.
  • Somehow, I’m watching Love Island. Again.
  • I had a great meal this week with my mum and sister. 


I picked the photo I looked best in. Sorry mum. 

It was a bit of a shock when my second round was postponed by a week because of low immunity. It isn’t too much of an issue if it is a one off, and happened before in December last year, but it makes me slightly worried it might happen each cycle now that my body is slightly weaker than last year due to the decrease in organs and increase of synthetic hormones. Not much I can do about it though. In any case, after a few self-injections with the pleasant side effect of making my bones hurt, my white blood cells went through the roof and I was ready and raring to go at the end of the fifth week. 

I’m writing this from the hospital so maybe it’s the steroids talking but I think this is the most normal I’ve felt since I was diagnosed and I'm almost back to my usual self. Things change quickly though so I’ll enjoy it whilst it lasts. 

Me

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