Round 9

01/08/2014

Monday was a catch-up appointment with the surgeon. This was the first appointment Wayne didn't come to as the battery was flat on the van. He has done so well being there at every one so far.

Mr Truter is more than happy with how I'm going, thrilled the scans were clear. He is still adamant that he doesn't want my lymph nodes radiated and insists I get Radiology to ring him about they start.

I went to see a Cancer Counsellor on Wednesday. I had actually booked six weeks ago, which was when I thought I needed another perspective on things and now six weeks later I have it sorted in my head, but the appointment came up so I went anyway.

It all sounds so clear and simple when you start talking to a stranger. They don't know your story so I found myself expressing myself in a way I possibly wouldn't with friends and family (though re-reading my Facebook blogs, you guys do get it both barrels. There's not a lot I hold back.) What I do hold back I probably do for fear some may think I am being silly, fatalistic or in denial, or too religious. So it was useful to go along and get some stuff off my chest. I don't think I changed my view on much, just realised how far I have come and hoping this experience does change me for the better, that I don't forget what it is/has taught me and that I am more empathetic and compassionate and encouraging to others.

So Round 9 arrived on 31/07/2014. As an upshot of missing Round 8, due to holding off while more tests were done, once they were confirmed all clear, we started up chemo again this week. I think I have one more to go next week, but if oncologist says he wants another one for round 8 that I missed, well so be it. I am going to find out early next week though because I would want to celebrate on the right day. How I will celebrate I'm not sure - a big yahoooooo might have to do for a few days until body catches up with mind. But no doubt you will hear the yahoooooo at your house.

I wasn't in the 'naughty corner' this time so that was a good start. They were taking a long time to start the process so Wayne went and checked if I had been 'bad' again. No problems they said. So Wayne went off to the music shop while I waited and waited. 

Three-quarters of an hour later I asked what the hold up was, oh just waiting for email from your oncologist to say go ahead. Dah - you guys rang me to set the appointment because he said go ahead. Oh, okay then...and away we went.

Pre-meds had me nicely wasted in no time. I had the flush, two syringes, another flush, then the Pinot Gris chemo. Wayne returned and we noted I had 37 minutes to go of the hour long Pinot Gris process, only to have the nurse come check the machine and find I wasn't having any chemo pumped into me! Either the machine malfunctioned or it wasn't set up right...so we had to start again.

Bugger this, I thought, I need a pie! So Wayne delivered accordingly. What Andrea wants she gets at this point. So here I am sitting have chemo eating a pie. And it was delicious. 

We finally got out at 1.30 instead of 11.30.

Sleep had me in its arms on the ride home and straight to bed. Wayne had a gig but he kindly came home and checked on me between a break to make sure I was okay. How sweet is that. And sleep kept me busy most of today too.

Thank you this week to:
My angel - completing Dry July and raising over $800 for cancer research
Cousin shouted dinner out at Thai before she heads abroad and early birthday dinner
My clever friend who gave me a beautiful Kelly Rae Roberts book called "This Little Light of Mine" in my letterbox when I got home from chemo - so kind 
Prayer warriors - front and centre again !

Blessings...

Live in the moment

08/06/2014

As I sat down outside Whitcoulls to eat my lunch and watch the world go by, our local busker started playing and he sang straight to my heart strings; a good ole Ronan Keating number "When you say nothing at all", Van Morrison "Have I told you lately that I love you", Eric Clapton "You look wonderful tonight". It was a concert for one because no one else was sitting out in the cold.

A concert for one

It's about "living in the moment". I have read and heard that phrase in a few articles I have read this week as I try to lift myself up. Easy to say and I am finding harder to do as the energy levels go up and down.

When I first got diagnosed I know I did that - lived in the moment - everything took on a brighter, crisper meaning and I was reflective of all the love and kindness around me. Wayne and I are still overwhelmed how the kindness keeps on coming and my friends and family keep on giving.

This week my "living in the moment" was having my son home. We went to our favourite cafe, Coffee Plus, and Luke says "So Mum, how's life"? Love it! We talked about life, death, mortality, future dreams, love and faith, over coffee and cake. Nothing like a deep and meaningful moment created right there. It warms my heart to hear Luke speak with his words of wisdom, compassion, gentle spirit and hope. He has a lot to contribute to this world and with Christine by his side, they will make a difference in people's lives.

A reduction in pre meds had me wondering.
Note no wig - soon gave up and accepted
how I looked

I also had a visit from a dear friend who asked me "what is it like this cancer, what is treatment like, what's the future hold". When I started to answer I realised how much I have learnt and am learning about the cancer, the process, my reality and myself.

This week has been an "up" week in terms of treatment and I started to feel physically more like my old self. And then in crept the awareness that next week a new chemo treatment is starting (CMF). This is the lighter dose (my Pinot Gris) and it should be easier on my peripheral neuropathy (I have in my feet) - Dr Link promised me. I have treatment on Tuesday and then seven days later another dose with a two week gap.

I have to admit there is a bit of trepidation with the new regime, just because it is that, new. I am yet to find out if the rest will be administered the same.

Wayne made the observation to me this week that with each one I have reacted differently, both physically and emotionally, and on reflection he is right:

1. Pretty damn easy. Back at work the next day
2. Stopped drinking as taste buds went and nothing tasted right so didn't flush chemo out effectively hence tired, nauseous
3. Steroid high - hide the knives (still haven't found them so I must have done something with them)
4. Tired, over it, "stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone" - WH Auden

a dose of the munchies

The aftermath of chemo for me:

• is the nausea is like being pregnant so to combat that eat dry crackers little and often, gingernuts and ginger tea
• I feel like I have got a lump of concrete working its way down through my body for about five days - when it is "released" oh the relief!
• major stomach spasms which are like Braxton Hicks and I just have to wait for them to pass
• my nose has ulcers up inside (the hairs have gone) so nose is very tender
• steroids and sleep do not go well together

So off we go again - are you coming along for the ride?? Let's see what we make of this next process.

Acts of kindness and big thank yous this week - I am truly blessed:

• bus ticket for Luke
• The Eagles ticket
• Lunch out
• Cash to help create and reflect on a memory
• Friend visit and chocolate cake
• Friend visit and something "yellow"
• Cousin - dinner at Siam Thai and a pretty pink cyclamen

Living in the moment and watching fishermen
spending time with Wayne and being close to water

Angels drop by

29/03/2014

Friday saw us at Rotorua Hospital for Outpatients appointment with Dr Link, the oncologist. He wanted a follow up to see how my first treatment gone.

As I said to him, I took the anti-nausea drugs for the three days as prescribed, managed 5 hours at work for two days, then a day off, then the weekend to rest up and this week I have been back at work full time.

I would describe 'my nausea' as being like when pregnant with morning sickness. As long as 'Polly has a cracker' and eats little and often ( which is what the cancer information booklet prescribed), the nausea is manageable. I am more than happy with that. I believe this doctor listened right from the outset when I said I have to work (financially) and he said he would make this a 'nice smooth ride'. Of course my particular cancer must allow him to do this, so once again I am grateful. And yes, it is early days - one treatment and counting - and it could change at the next, but he didn't seem to think so. Dr Link said I will feel more fatigued and just to listen to my body and what it needs.

It was great being back at work this week. I love my colleagues. They spur me on with their humour and kindness. One big guy sat down next to me and said "Andrea, I don't know what to say, what to do. Do I give you a hug, just pretend this isn't happening to you. What would you like me to do"? My heart melted and was so humbled that this big guy could just sit beside me and 'be present' in the moment. I have read that this is often what one needs, just someone to sit beside them. So it is good to experience it first hand and know this is special.

And then acts of kindness came out of the nowhere again:

• Got home to a parcel on the table of chocolates and a beautiful vanilla candle with the inscription 'love much, laugh often' from my son and his wife
• My cousin took a raffle ticket for us and we have won a night out for 2 for dinner at the Indian Restaurant
• Friends fed me again a lovely dinner of fish, fresh beans and savoury potatoes - and love
• Colleague brought me homemade jam
• Colleague gave me a Breast cancer manicure set - never had one before so quite special
• I had a craving for scones and colleague rustled up some homemade beautiful scones
• a phone call from an ex colleague 

People just keep on giving. There is so much love out there.

So a 'nice smooth ride' this week...lots of prayers, positive thoughts and acts of kindness 

And angels - my beautiful nieces , and my colleague , have added to my angel collection