Marked For Life

I’ve now had my planning scan in advance of receiving radiotherapy. I spent a few hours at the hospital. First, being briefed by one of the research team about what was going to happen regarding the scan and then filling in as many of the gaps in what I knew about what would happen going forward. It was totally about keeping me informed and feeling at ease with what was coming.

Next I was seen by one of the scanning team who took me through the procedure in more detail, explaining how I would have to drink water containg a dye so that they could determine if my bladder was sufficiently full and also that my rectum needed to be empty. No poo and no farty gas allowed.

I would have to be set up in a certain position and not move whilst being scanned. Provided all the criteria were met, I would then be marked with three dots which would be used to set me up in exactly the same position for the next twenty visits.

Well, the water containing the dye smelt of aniseed. It’s fair to say that the taste might be better described as anuseed. It was not very tasty. However, I drank the specified amount within the specified time and having had a bowel movement earlier, I was ready to go. Or not go.

As one might expect, they were meticulous in the set up but all was well and all the boxes were ticked and I now have three permanent dots on my lower body. Hardly noticeable really, so they don’t break my “no tattoo” rule.

After the scan I had another blood test for PSA. Perfectly straightforward. No bent needles or projectile bleeding this time. And then it was off to the Macmillan Centre for a coffee and a chat. I also booked myself a couple of massages. It was a good day and things seem to be moving forward now.

Pressure

A couple of days later, I had an assessment to see if I could go on a fitness course for people with long term illness or cancer. I failed. My blood pressure was too high. It had reached an all time high, possibly as another side effect of the hormone treatment.

The assessor said that he could not allow me to use the gym but I was at liberty to swim in the pool, should I wish to do so. It’s ok to drown, I suppose, but not fall off the treadmill. I was a bit disappointed but thought that swimming might be ok for the time being. I need to get active in some way. With that in mind, I took out a membership with a leisure centre nearer to home and received a substantial discount.

I saw my GP the next day regarding my blood pressure and am now on medication. Hopefully it is only short term. Nevertheless, in spite of the hot flushes I have been getting, I am feeling better than I have been recently.

Sad

On a sadder note, I am writing this after having just attended the funeral service of a friend. Someone that I have known since we were eleven years old. He had been very supportive of me despite having been diagnosed with cancer himself at the end of last year. A lovely man. RIP Alan.

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Flushed

The hormone treatment continues to wreak havoc on my body. The hot flushes that I thought I had evaded now come thick and fast. They are occurring more and more frequently. Fortunately, so far, they have been fairly brief. I hope they stay that way.

Recently I had been expecting to receive notification of a planning scan for radiotherapy. I was told the appointment would be by the end of April, so, having had no communication from the hospital, I phoned them to find out what was going on. “Nothing in the system yet”, I was told.

“Why not?”, I replied.

“I can’t say”, was the reponse.

I then made a call to the clinical trials team to ask if they could find out what was going on. They were as surprised as me that I had no appointment as yet and said they would investigate for me and call me back. Which they promptly did.

The explanation given, was that radiotherapy was in great demand at the moment and I would be given short notice of an appointment when one became available. Really?

Well, somebody’s cage must have been rattled because I soon got another call telling me that my planning scan had now been scheduled for May 3rd and my radiotherapy would commence on May 28th. Apparently my consultant had gotten involved. I hope I am not coming across as an impatient patient. Can there be such a person?

Shock Horror

My body is in shock
With my hormones running amok.
Whatever the effects,
I'm not changing my sex
And I won't be wearing a frock.

Decline

Although the devastating effects I suffered when I began hormone therapy have not recurred, there is still a daily toll being taken on my body. Each day I seem to have less strength than the day before. My arms and legs incapable of carrying out the simple tasks that would normally done without thinking. This is also very depressing.

The decline has been quite rapid. So much so that I am now unable to go to work. That is particularly saddening as I enjoy working and it gives me motivation. I hope that this is fairly short term and with the change of hormone drug in June and following the four weeks of radiotherapy, also in June, I may be able to resume working.

With the decent weather, I have been walking to the local shops. A journey that normally takes five minutes each way has doubled. It doesn’t challenge me aerobically, I don’t get out of breath. It is just that I have lost so much of my physical strength in the last few months. It’s amazing what can happen in such a short time.

On the subject of time

Time travel can be tedious.
Not instantaneous as it often appears.
I've travelled here from 1951
And it's taken nearly 68 years!

Anxious

It is just six weeks since I began hormone therapy. Not exactly a long time and yet it seems an eternity when I think of the range of emotions and the variation in the intensity of pain I have felt. It’s fair to say that at the moment, I am not a fan of hormone treatment. I may change my mind when I start on a different drug in June and of course, the ultimate test is, how successful is it?

I am still suffering pain at times but fortunately, not everywhere at the same time. Also, my physical strength is way down compared to a few months ago. I struggle to do things which were fairly easy and I despair at the thought that I may not ever run again. I comfortably ran 5km just before Xmas.

I have been told that I will be on hormone therapy for at least two years. At the moment it seems more like a punishment than a treatment. On the up side, I will be having a CT scan at the end of the month and Radiotherapy will start about a month later. I am now anxious to get on with it.

In my idea of Utopia, radiotherapy would entail laying in a darkened room listening to tapes of all the old Fluff Freeman radio shows. Conversely, radiotherapy hell would be the same darkened room and being forced to listen to Chris Moyles. That would be worse than the real radiotherapy.

While I’m in a good mood, a Limerick.

Men Only

I wanted to know the answer
To, "why have I got Prostate Cancer?"
When I asked a nurse,
"Why must I suffer this curse?"
She replied, "Just because you're a man, sir."