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."

Uplifted

I am pleased to say that my mood is significantly better than last week. This is due to a number of factors but most importantly because I have been told that I am to be treated with a different hormone drug. When I was told, I felt an immediate change in my mental wellbeing.

After the injection of the previous hormone, Decapeptyl, and the painful reaction I had, I spoke to the research team at the General Hospital. They in turn spoke to the consultant who then asked a speciality nurse to contact my GP and discuss my situation The nurse then called me to tell me that my next injection, which is still two months away, will be with a different drug. One which should not cause me to suffer in the way I had previously. The drug is Zoladex LA 10.8mg which of course, has its own long list of potential side effects. I will not have to worry about that for now.

With the absence of pain and depression, I felt well enough to return to work. Albeit on a reduced level but enough, once again, to have a positive effect on my mental health. I did feel quite tired after working four days but it feels worth it.

And to uplift the spirits even more, the start of the cricket season. How much happier could one feel than sitting at the Ageas Bowl on a drab day in April with the temperature at 11C and a wind chill factor making it more like six or seven degrees. Having said that the cricket was excellent. I am looking forward to seeing a lot of cricket this year. Truly uplifted.

No Pain No Gain. No Thanks!!

Only last week,
Things were looking so bleak,
That I thought I wouldn’t continue.
I could not see the point,
With such pain in each joint,
In every muscle, tendon and sinew.
 
My body’s rejection
Of the hormone injection,
Made my future prospects seem worse.
So I voiced my frustration
Re my medication,
To a speciality nurse.
 
My consultant was consulted
Which then resulted
In an approach to my GP.
 Following a graphic description
She changed my prescription
To something (hopefully) less painful to me.

Doubts

It has been a week since I had the terrible reaction to the hormone injection and I am pleased to say that so far, there has been no recurrence.

The clinical trials team have been in touch with me this week, twice. The first time was to inform me of the result of the bone scan. The result was good. No cancer in my bones and no reason why I should not take part in the trial. I just had to wait to be “randomised” by the computer to find out which “arm” of the trial I would be in. There were four possibilities with varied treatment.

The second call from the trials team was to tell me that I had now been randomised and the computer had decided that I would go into the group which was receiving the basic treatment. I have to say I was disappointed. I had hoped that I would be in a group which would get at least the treatment that I would have chosen for myself. There was no point in trying to hide my disappointment from the researcher and I was still reeling from the episode following the hormone injection previously.

I told the researcher that I was having doubts. Not necessarily with the clinical trials but that I was unsure whether I wished to have any treatment at all. My mind keeps coming back to the question of quality of life and it is giving me a hard time in trying to work out which will be the best way to go. For me. It is difficult to reconcile that, before last Xmas, I was “living the dream”, feeling fit and comfortably running up to 5km. Following the tests, diagnosis and commencement of treatment, my dream is now a nightmare and I probably could not run a 100m.

When I signed up for the clinical trials, I was not being altruistic. Quite the opposite. I am a very selfish person and I would have been hoping to get some benefit from taking part. That is likely to not be the case now so if I do decide to have treatment, I will probably fall back on the choices offered to me when I was diagnosed. I don’t have to decide yet. Not for another month at least.

Unusually, I am stuck for something funny to put in this post so I am going to add a little verse that I put in a facebook conversation recently. I need humour!

So it's true, no longer a rumour.
I have got a prostate tumour.
But I'm not one for quitting
And hormones permitting,
I won't lose my sense of humour.

Last Post

In my last post I wrote that I had not had any side effects from the hormone treatment. Not for the first time I was a bit premature. Within two hours of publishing that blog post, something started happening in my body, which would, over the next few hours, supersede all previous bad experiences as it became the worst event in my life, ever. Really!!

It started out with the chills, a slightly raised temperature and aches and pains in my chest, arms, shoulders etc. Almost everywhere in fact. The symptoms were similiar to those of flu, although it could not have been that as I had my flu vaccination back in the autumn. The special jab for over 65s (how does flu know how old you are?).

Similar symptoms also, to the infection that saw me hospitalised earlier this year. A voice somewhere in the labyrinth of my mind was screaming, “not the hospital again, not another bloody catheter! I won’t go!” I fought off the rising panic, realising that it was likeley to be side effects from the hormones and I should wait and see how it developed. I phoned my eldest daughter, Melanie, and explained the situation and asked if she could check on me in three hours, which of course she agreed to do.

This had all begun at about 3pm and when Melanie called at around 6pm, I was in quite a bad way. A couple of years ago I had gout in my ankle. It only lasted a couple of days as it was quickly identified as a side effect (pattern forming) of a drug I had been prescibed for acid reflux. I can testify however, that gout is one of the most painful experiences you can have. The pain I was feeling this time made gout seem trivial. I felt as if I had been beaten soundly with a baseball bat and then rolled down the side of a mountain. I hurt badly.

A readthrough of the possible side effects of Decapeptyl SR 11.25, reinforced my fears that the drug was responsible for my condition. The only effect that I seemed not to have, was blurred vision. Handy really, as at least I was able to read which ones I did have.

I curled up into a foetal position in which I remained for most of the night. I hardly dared move as the pain was so intense. The responsibility for checking on me passed to my younger daughter, Jo, but apart from checking to see if I was alive, there was nothing that could be done. I just had to ride it out. I drifted in and out of sleep, or consciousness, until 5am. The whole episode had lasted for fourteen hours and left me in a dire state, like a blob of jelly.

For the next 24 hours I was feeling very weak and severely depressed. My mind toying with the idea of not having treatment. Was it possible that the cure could be worse than the disease? Would I be sacrificing quality of life in attempting to gain more quantity of life? My experience so far, is that it would not be worth it. I still have ten weeks before my next injection is due and if there are no similar episodes before then, well I guess I would continue with the treatment. Once again it is wait and see.

Fiasco

Although it comes as something of a shock when you are told you have cancer, it can be tempered by the knowledge that in your particular case, it has not spread yet and may be curable. For me, that was the best thing I heard when I was told of my diagnosis. After that comes so much information, both about your particular cancer and the choices of treatment, it can be overwhelming.

I made up my mind very quickly that I did not want surgery, choosing hormone therapy followed by radiotherapy. I was told that hormone treatment would probably give me symptoms of the menopause. “Not likely to be a problem for me”, I informed the nurse. “I’ve experienced quite a few of those by association.”

“Well, now you get to have one of your own”, she replied.

My mind was made up though. It was down to personal preference and I did not have any doubts. That is, until I read and re-read all the information that was available. Then I had doubts. And more doubts.

The doubts were mostly centred on the side effects of the various treatments. Many side effects are available and nobody is assured of getting any or all of them. That, however, was also the information given to me about the chances of contracting an infection following a trans rectal biopsy. Not much chance, hardly any, was how I interpreted it. That small chance became larger and larger a few days after the procedure, as I lay in a hospital bed suffering from a massive infection, which so wasted me that almost two months later, I am still not fully recovered.

The prescription for my hormone treatment had been given to me to deliver to my GP. A course of anti androgens for four weeks with an injection of one of a choice of three drugs to be started the following week. The choice being made by my GP. I read up on all of them and reached the conclusion that I did not relish taking any of them, so I made an appointment to see the GP to take place immediately I had had the whole body scan.

During the intervening period I went on line to book an appointment with the nurse for a vaccination against pneumonia. While I was online I saw that I had already been assigned to a hormone drug. It just happened to be the cheapest of the three. I wanted to make sure that the choice was being made based on medical history and not cost, so I phoned the surgery to see if I could schedule the appointments so that I saw the doctor before the nurse. It made sense to me but no matter how hard I tried I could not get any help from the receptionist. I would have to wait a further three weeks to get synchronised appointments.

What started out as an urgent referral last October which should have seen me start treatment within eighteen weeks was now turning into a fiasco, timetable wise. I was already at twenty two weeks and my fate was in the hands of a “jobsworth” receptionist. Not one to suffer fools, I took a different route and in a short time I had an informative chat with a consultant at the General Hospital, who managed to allay my latest round of fears.

During the conversation with the GP’s receptionist, I explained about the nurse having to inject the hormone drug into me and asked whether it was something that would be readily available. She told me that I would need to collect a prescription from the surgery, take it to the pharmacy and bring it with me to see the nurse. I said I would collect it the following day.

It was the following afternoon that I turned up to collect the prescription, only to be met with a notice on the front door proclaiming, ” Closed for training.”

“Not soon enough”, was my first thought. “A few weeks sooner would have been better”, was my next. I was to be injected the following day with a drug that I did not have the prescription for. They could have warned me about being closed for training. Maybe communication was one of the topics. Mmm, this could be going better.

I walked the short distance to the pharmacy, where I explained the situation and inquired if they had the drug in stock. Fortunately my memory is still quite good and I remembered the drug, Decapeptyl SR11.25mg. No, they did not have it in stock but they would order it without having the prescription and I would be able to collect it the following morning in time for my appointment. Nice people at the pharmacy.

As a result, I am now into my third week of pills and second week of the long term drug after being injected. So far, I am not aware of any major side effects. Early days.

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