Saturday 24th July 2021
“On your journey, don’t forget to smell the flowers. Take time out to notice you’re alive. You can only live in one day.” —  Ray Fearon

So it’s 28 months since I finished my chemo. Since then, I’ve had 7 surveillance appointments and 2 CT Scans. So far, so good. No cancer, long may it stay that way.

How short out memories are. I forget this blog is here sometimes. Tonight I was alerted to a comment on the blog, and alas I remembered it was here again. It got me thinking I should really post an update. How is it still going ? Am I still here ? etc. It’s been a while.

Lets start with Surveillance Appointments. Year 1 = every 3 months, Year 2 = every 4 months, Years 3 to 5 = every 6 months. CT scan at the end of Chemo, and CT scan at the end of year 1. No CT scan’s at the end of year 2 onwards unless blood results suggest one is needed – apparently I can do without the radiation ! Basically I turn up, have bloods done, then an hour or so later have a quick chat with the Dr to say how things are going, i.e. still self examining and all ok. He checks my neck lymph nodes, and then tells me they will be in touch if my bloods/X-Ray suggest any problems, which so far they never have done. Most times I have had a chest X-Ray, so it’s usually an all afternoon affair with the waiting around, but I still never tire of going to The Christie. I actually look forward to it in a very strange way.

Next lets cover some of the long lasting effects, some of which I attribute to the chemo.

Firstly Reynauds. This is by far the worst long term effect I’ve been left with. The sensation where my fingers / toes go white and lose feeling when they get cold. Over the winter this is really difficult to manage. The picture below is simply me having gone for a short drive (school run I think) on a day where it was about 3 degrees Celsius, and the chill of holding the steering wheel has trigged the Reynauds. Once they’ve gone, they are gone until they get warm, and it’s painful. I have heat packs in the house that I put in the microwave to warm up, and have to put them on my fingers / toes to bring them back to life. It can take a little while too.

Now this sucks big time for a number of reasons. Cycling being one. Anything less than 5 degrees and even with thermal socks, winter cycling boots, heat packs in my shoes and winter overshoes, I still lose feeling in my toes on any ride longer than an hour. That kept me indoors over the winters, partly the reason I’ve invested in a decent exercise bike that I can continue to use during the colder months indoors where it is warm. I barely went out between October 2020 and April 2021, it was just too cold to go out without losing my toes to it. Same for running, albeit easier to manage as you’re moving more slowly and therefore less wind effect. The indoor bike and now treadmill mean I can keep up my cycling and running all year round, otherwise it would be hard. Fitness is lost far quicker than gained. Even going for a walk in winter with the family, thick boots and thermal socks and I still lose feeling. I’m just learning to control it as best I can. The Dr says there is no treatment.

Secondly, not necessarily a long term side effect, but depression. Late 2019, I realised I’d been pretty badly depressed and this came to a head in early 2020 when I was barely able to function normally. I can’t say it’s due to the chemo, or the journey, or one thing or another. I can just say it happened. I think there was an element of a massive comedown from the journey itself. I spent that time focussing solely on getting through the chemo and then getting back to “normal.” I just rolled my sleeves up and faced it head on. It was euphoric completing the Manchester 10km run, and my first 100 mile ride post-chemo. It felt like job done. But then came the crash. What now ? The fight was over. It seemed to spiral. It manifested by not wanting to do anything, ever. You know how “time flies when you have fun,” well I didn’t want to have fun because then time wouldn’t fly. I could just sit in misery with life dragging by. No weekend plans – “great, it will drag.” Monday will take longer to get here. No motivation to work, cycle, run, do housework, see friends, go out, anything really, which then causes anxiety because you have things stacking up that you really should have done and you haven’t, so sleepless nights worrying about the consequences.

I sucked it up and went to the GP for help in Feb 2020, then spent 6 months on sertraline. I saw a counsellor (via whatsapp chat!) through work’s scheme, and that was brilliant. Had some good honest chats. Then lockdown came, but it gave me a routine and I slowly came out of the nose dive. I started running every day to get out of the house. I started making plans where we could, and not worrying about having so much fun that a weekend would pass by too quickly. Around September time I felt back to myself, so I weaned myself off the meds over a few weeks and again, so far so good. I have to say though, the first two weeks on sertraline, it got worse before it got better. Those were some dark days, which seems to be common. Luckily I had read about how people react, and I was prepared for it.

Was this the mental effects of a tough period through chemo ? Was it a comedown after winning the fight ? Was it a chemical imbalance caused by the aggro my body went through ? Was it caused by lower testosterone (see last post re: gynaecomastia) ? I’m not sure I’ll ever know, but it was every bit as tough a battle as what went before it.

Next: Gynaecomastia. This didn’t really go anywhere. My testosterone levels were deemed to be within the “normal” range. The frustrating thing is that I don’t know where they were pre-cancer. I would guess that they dropped from being higher in the “normal” range. Anyhow, I notice when I start to put on a bit of weight that the fat gathers a bit more around my right “breast” area. In laymans terms, 1 manboob slowly grows. When I lose the weight, it goes away. I didn’t consider I needed any surgery, which was an option if it was cosmetically an issue, but it’s so minimal that even I don’t notice it. Case closed on that, but I still suspect lower testosterone levels were a cause, and contributed to the depression too.

Sleep: this one is just my musings on a marked difference from pre-cancer/chemo to post cancer/chemo. I was pretty ok getting by on 7 to 8 hours sleep a night before all this happened, even 6 to 7 hours and I’d be generally ok. Now, if I don’t get 8 hours minimum, I struggle waking up and then I struggle at points in the day. Again I’m not sure if it’s related, but the timing was coincidental.

Other bitty things. My scar is still numb from where I had my initial operation. Very little feeling came back, not that it ever really causes an issue.

General health: other than these things above, life is much the same as it was before. It’s not like I’m living 70% of the life I was used to. On the contrary, fitness wise I’ve recorded my longest bike ride (136 miles,) longest run (a few half marathons,) fastest 5km & 10km runs, all post-cancer/chemo. Bear in mind I’m 2 years older too, that’s something I’m particularly enthused about. I was pretty fit before, but I’ve pushed that further in the last 12 months than I have before. It hasn’t held me back. I’ve not been ill any more than I would have been either, the immune system bounced back well.

I really can’t complain at this point. Life is good, I have my health. It’s all becoming a distant memory. I’ll do what I can to keep enjoying life. Perhaps the biggest reminder of it all is the big unnecessary American muscle car I bought in June 2019 not long after I finished my chemo. I’ve wanted one for as long as I can remember, mainly because I think they look and sound fantastic. It’s often impractical, the 13mpg isn’t a selling point, but it’s my dream car, and in my head it will always be my “reward.” It gets a lot of looks and smiles, and it gets people talking to me, often asking “what made you get one of those?”

Well sir, I beat cancer back in 2019. It made me realise that life is short. You need to do the things that make you happy, and this thing puts a beaming smile on my face every time I look at it and more importantly it reminds me how lucky I am, and reminds me I’m alive. Long may that continue…

Friday 9th August 2019
“Time flies like an arrow, but fruit flies like a banana” —  Terry Wogan

Today was my first surveillance appointment, roughly 3 months after I got the All Clear in May. How time has absolutely flown by. They will be every 3 months for the first year. I kinda knew it would be a blood test and a “physical examination” although I didn’t know how intrusive that would be so it was going to be a surprise.

Usual gig, turn up one hour before your appointment to have blood taken, then mill around for an hour or so until the appointment time, and hope things are running on time. Today I had 2 wingmen in Luke and Parker as I was working from home today with them around keeping quiet, playing on their technology.

It’s changed a little since last time I was there, they now have a new dedicated phlebotomy (what a great word) department where they take your blood ready for analysis. We waited for my name to pop up on the screen, and in I went to chair number five. Parker came in, Luke waited in the waiting room.

The look on Parker’s face when the nurse stuck the needle in my arm was priceless. It got even better when she started jiggling the needle around in my arm because nothing was coming out, and that really wasn’t the most pleasant sensation. She had to abandon my right arm and go for the left, which behaved as expected, and I had matching cotton bud plasters on each arm. I joked with her about it being fine because my arms matched and I liked symmetry, a truly terrible joke that drew some forced laughter. Parker still looked stunned, walking out telling the nurse he hopes he never has to have it done !

Then it was filling time until we saw the Dr, so we went and grabbed some lunch. Strangely both boys picked fruit today, not sure what was wrong with them but I obliged and we sat and had a nice meal.

Then we wandered down to the waiting room, and waited to see the Doctor. Pretty much within a minute of sitting down, we were ushered to a consultation room. Wow, that was about 10 minutes early. But then we were in that little room about 40 minutes before the Dr popped in for our chat, and it was pretty tedious waiting while the boys played on their tablets.

Now, just re-wind about 8 weeks. I noticed a pain in my chest, on the right side, around where your pectoral muscles are. It felt like I’d banged into something and the pain was due to that. I had a feel of it, and I found exactly what you don’t want to find – a lump, and a painful one at that. No messing, I booked to see the GP the next day. Given my medical history the last 12 months, she took no chances and did another “urgent 2 week potential cancer” referral. Now around this time too, I purchased my dream car which suitably distracted me from all the mental turmoil the same process brought last September, which was really not a nice thing to contend with.

Up I rolled to the Breast Clinic, and sat myself in a waiting room predominantly filled with women. I’d been reflecting how life was dealing me quite an embarrassing hand, firstly having to talk to people about testicular cancer, and now the potential to be talking about a “breast” related issue. Turns out men have breast tissue too, just not a lot of it, and there is such thing as male breast cancer.

Anyhow, the Dr examined me, listened to me describe my recent medical events, and she immediately diagnosed gynaecomastia. Having been distracted by the car for a few weeks, this time I’d done little to no research on possible eventualities so this wasn’t a familiar phrase. In layman’s terms, it’s growing a man boob, and very likely related to the surgery and chemo I had for the cancer. Totally benign, nothing to worry about, other than cosmetically. Even better that I’m only growing one ! I really do like symmetry, and with one nut and one man boob, things are slowly getting out of hand.

She sent me for an immediate ultrasound, which confirmed it, but also that the start of it is happening on my left side too. That’s cool because if it get’s a hurry on, then I’ll get some symmetry back. I also had a blood test, which a letter a few weeks later confirmed was fine.

So the NHS deal with this as purely a cosmetic issue, they will take no action (i.e. surgery) but in my case because it is related to a different condition then they may do so. However, for now it’s just another appointment in 3 months time to check on progress. So I thought I would take the letter I got confirming the diagnosis, to the appointment today given the two things were likely to be related.

Back to today… the Dr arrived, and we had a chat. He said he didn’t yet have my blood results, which I thought was unusual as this is the main indicator of any potential issues. He asked if I was still ok, and I said there was nothing going on relating to the original cancer that I was aware of. I then showed him the letter with my diagnosis on, and he immediately questioned why they didn’t do a testosterone test, as apparently the most likely cause of the gynaecomastia. So he examined my chest, felt the lymph nodes in my neck and then wrapped up. He said he will call me with the blood results, he asked me to have a chest x-ray on the way out, and he’ll ask them to go back to my bloods from today and check the testosterone levels.

We did the chest x-ray on the way out and then toddled off home. I knew where to go as I had an x-ray there when I was on the ward one time receiving my chemo. On reflection, it was a bit of a strange experience today, I didn’t really learn anything. We’ll see what comes of it, before my next appointment in another 3 months time. I’m due to be back at the breast clinic at North Manchester before my next appointment at The Christie, so I guess it will be a race to see who I hear from first in the meantime.

It was fun being with the boys though, they made it a fun trip. I usually dread going to hospitals for appointments, but I still enjoy (in a strange way) going to The Christie. We got a few things from the charity shop while we were there, and headed home. About a quarter of a mile from the hospital, there’s a person who lives nearby, and instead of having a car/van, they drive a tank. Yes, an old army tank. I deliberately went past it, as they park it on the street outside where they live. Parker was in awe…

P.S. I last posted on the 6th June, moaning about my crazy itchy hands. Luckily in the 2 to 3 weeks after that post, the itching pretty much went away. It was easing up a bit when I blogged, and it went away pretty quickly after that. It was only a few weeks after when my hair had pretty much grown back too. So all in all, the chemo-induced issues I had were pretty much gone by mid June. 3 months after finishing the chemo, was the first time I could say it wasn’t affecting me in any way.

Thursday 6th June 2019
“The whole time, you’ve not moaned about anything anywhere near as much as you have this” —  Jayne Evans !

Just shy of the 3 month mark since chemo finished, and it’s almost gone and forgotten. One obvious reminder is the hair ! It’s still not grown back fully, but it’s growing back now to the extent it did before. It seemed to take an age to get started, but now I’ve had my first haircut just to even it out, and I imagine it’s only a few weeks away from being back to as it was before. I had to renew my passport a week or two back, so a mugshot of me with a close cut has been immortalised in time for the next 10 years. Lovely !

The biggie though, I mentioned a number of times before the pain in my hands, Peripheral Neuropathy. At my appointment in early May I mentioned it to the Dr, and it’s just a case of waiting it out. It was starting to subside, and I’d say by mid May the pain had pretty much gone. It definitely has at this point, but….

They itch like an absolute bitch, pardon the phrase. Since mid May, over the last 4 weeks or so my hands regularly itch like mad, the itchiest itch I’ve ever had. Not an itch on top of the skin, itching that feels like it comes from inside, deep inside/under the skin. It seems to happen when I get warm/hot. For example, during the day it might happen if it’s warm in the office, or if I’m in a meeting room where it starts to get warm. A rise in body temperature seems to set it off.

I believe its the tail end of the nerves repairing themselves. Go back about 2 and a half weeks, and it would start to happen pretty much every night like clockwork at around 9.30pm. Apparently your body temperature rises at night, and it seems to trigger it. I’d get in bed, then the itching would just go mad and stop me getting to sleep. Then it will wake me up repeatedly when I do drop off. For the last 2 weeks, I’ve slept with no covers on, under the ceiling fan (and some nights with the dyson fan pointing at me too) to keep me cool, and it’s still started to itch and kept me awake after going to bed around 10.30 until about 2am – 2.30am in the morning. I’ve been really tired too because I’ve not been getting enough sleep.

I’ve bought creams like E45, 3 different anti-itch creams, and I also tried taking over the counter anti-histamines. None of said medications had worked, and it’s got to the point where I’ve itched so much that I’ve developed a rash on my hands. I also started getting the itch around my ankles, behind my knees, and on my elbows. I’ve also tried using the ice packs I bought, which do a great job of stopping the itch while they are in place, but it comes back as soon as I take the ice packs off. Now I just use the ice packs to try to lower my body temperature by putting them on my neck or arms.

So last Friday I went to see the GP as my next appointment at The Christie is in August and it’s becoming unbearable. I explained the back story with the Chemo, Peripheral Neuropathy etc, and got prescribed anti-histamines (same type and dose I had bought already) and some steroid cream for my hands. They’ve not made a difference and it carries on, although the last few nights it’s not seemed as quite as bad, but then the house has been cooler because it’s not been as warm outside.

I called the nurse at The Christie this week, who is there for advice. I am still under their care, so he was going to email my Dr for advice. He did say though, it was classic symptoms of Peripheral Neuropathy / nerves repairing, and it was likely I’d just have to grin and bear it. The nurse explained these symptoms are a good sign of the whole thing resolving itself, almost like this is the last stage, and the likelihood would be I just have to grin and bear it. He confirmed the stuff the GP prescribed won’t touch it. I remember the Dr said there is an anti-depressant that might help but it comes with it’s own issues.

Either way, the painful hand thing was a real disruptor, I needed help opening tins of beans, coke can’s and stuff. I am glad it’s passed, I like beans and diet coke. This itch though, I think I’d trade it away and take the pain back. I need a decent night’s sleep. I’m kinda coping with it, but I can’t wait for it to just ease off a bit, it’s gone on for weeks now. Plus I’m sick of itching, and my hands are sore now. Hoping the fact the last night or two haven’t been quite as bad is a good sign.

If you’re here reading it, hopefully my trial and error problem solving might help you find relief a bit quicker than I did. I’ve trawled the internet for help with this but there’s hardly any mention of the itching. CIPN – Chemo Induced Peripheral Neuropathy.

As Jayne says, I didn’t really moan about much when it was all going on in Jan/Feb time. This though, I desperately wish it would just bugger off, and quickly…

Sunday 19th May 2019
“Natural ability is important, but you can go far without it if you have the focus, drive, desire and positive attitude.” —  Kirsten Sweetland

Back during cycle 2, I was longing to get back to normal, and do some exercise etc etc. I really wanted a goal:

30th Jan 2019 – “Today I’ve been daydreaming about getting back to normality, in particular exercising. I have the cycle ride in September to focus on, and it will need lot of training to get me there. Some folks at work are doing the 10km Manchester Run towards the end of May, that sounds like something a bit closer that I could manage. I could get (slow) 10k ready in 6 weeks, which gives me a few weeks to recover from the chemo first. I’d be happy just to jog the whole thing without stopping, walk it even. I like goals and it’s a good one to go after, cardio helps the bike work too. I’m just dying to get back out there…“

Later that day, I signed up for it and that was that. If I had to walk it, I’d walk it but it was a goal to look forward to. In all honesty, I really wanted to run the whole thing without walking, and do it in under an hour. Those were my goals.

I was back on my bike pretty much straight after finishing the chemo, commuting to work and knocking around on it to build my fitness. It took a few weeks before I felt like running, but when I did it was bloody difficult. Plagued with calf and ankle pains, I wasn’t getting far very quickly and I kinda ignored it due to that and focussed on my bike riding which came back slowly and steadily, along with my cardio ability. I became quite disheartened at how badly the running was going, conceded that my goals were a bit too much of a stretch and to just go out and enjoy the event and not worry about achieving a particular time. I also stopped running so much.

With 1 week to go, I had only managed to run 2.5km without stopping, so I decided to bite the bullet and try a 4 mile run last Sunday. Mainly to see how much pain I’d be in afterwards! I managed just less than a mile before needing to walk, and in total did a run/walk/run/walk of 4.1 miles in about 43 minutes. That pace would bring me in for a 10km at around the 1 hour 5 minute mark, although more likely up to 1 hour 10 mins as I was knackered and would be walking more in the extra 2 miles. Hey ho.

I’ve been really looking forward to it all week. I’ve done it 4 times before around 2008 – 2012, and I know that the buzz of the crowd, the bands and music along he way, and the atmosphere in general is really motivating. I’d commuted to the office and back on my bike all 5 days this week and I’m pretty quick again now so my cardio fitness is good. Just not my running muscles.

Anyhow, the time came, and it didn’t disappoint. There’s so many folks doing it for so many different reasons. The atmosphere is great whilst waiting for the start, so much excitement. Spotting the chap infront’s vest, running for child bereavement with a picture of his daughter, is just one of many examples that brings it home, everyone has challenges of their own however big or small. The chap behind read the message on my back of why I was running for the Christie, shook my hand and said well done 🙂 People are great.

I’ve been telling myself for the last week, I can break the hour. It would be super unlikely, but I could do it. All morning, I was telling myself to give it my best and I could do it. I knew I had to run 9m39s mile pace to break the hour. I set off and for the first couple of km I was running at 9m10s pace, which I was happy with as I knew later in the race when I had to do some walking that I’d have banked some time.

All the way to 5km, I felt great, none of the usual aches around my calf and ankle. I was still at 9m10s pace and felt ok. Legs were getting a bit sore, but cardio wise I wasn’t really out of breath. So I plodded on. The support from the sidelines, kids and grown ups of all ages, with banners and signs like “you can do it” and “you are amazing” really is motivating. I’d picked another runner as my pacer, she was in a bright green t-shirt and running the perfect pace for me, so I thought as long as I kept her in my sights then I’d be ok. Past the 5km mark there was a chap on the floor being defibrillated, I hope he was ok. It was pretty quiet and sombre for a short while after that. There’s nothing in the news about any casualties so fingers crossed.

Up to 7km and The Christie bus was there so I got a big cheer, and I was still going at 9m10s pace. All along, I thought the 2nd half of this race would just be pain, and walking, and being a bit downbeat about not hitting my goals, therefore being quite an emotional struggle. Quite the opposite, by this point for the first time I had the belief that I could just keep going at this same pace and nail it, and I couldn’t stop smiling. And so I did…

The last 2km was hard, but I kept it going and I didn’t need to use any of that “banked” time to walk. Instead I’d smash my goals 🙂 I had to text Jayne and my Sister to let them know I was ahead of time, they were trying to find a spot close to the finish line. As I got towards the finish line, I sped up a bit and in the last 20 metres, I had my arms out in the air like a footballer celebrating the goal. As I crossed the line, I leaped up in the air and did a massive fist pump, it felt absolutely amazing.

57 minutes and 29 seconds. I’m still blown away by that, on a massive high. Compared to last Sunday’s 4 mile effort, it was a crazy improvement. My sister and Shane were just past the line and managed to get some pictures and a video of me crossing the line. A little further down were Jayne and the boys waiting for me with some big high 5’s.

In the 5 times I’ve run the Great Manchester 10km (and I’ve never really been a runner or trained properly before), this was my PB. I’d done it between 58 mins and 1hr 7mins all those years ago. The fastest I’ve run 10km on a training run is 54 minutes something back in 2017, so today’s effort in the context of this year was just fantastic.

I met up with the family, and we wandered down to the charity marquee to say hi to the folks from The Christie. I decided not to get a massage, just milled around for a bit while the boys took advantage of the “free merch” and took as much as they could. Then off home before the legs seized up, which they are now well on the way to doing.

Just a quick reminder that I’m not just doing this for my own recovery, I’m doing it to raise money for a truly special place. Thank you so much to everyone that has donated so far – https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/chemophil

So if the all clear appointment a few weeks back drew a line under the diagnosis side of things, then this well and truly draws a line under the recovery, 10 weeks on from my last treatment. From now on it’s all behind me.

The only 2 lingering consequences of my chemo are that my hair still hasn’t fully grown back, and I’m struggling really badly with itchy hands. It’s driving me mad at points and it’s sometimes keeping me awake at night, but I’m coping. The pain in my fingers has gone, and I guess this is this itching malarkey is final part of the healing process so I’ll bear with it.

Such an inspirational, emotional and motivating day. Like so many signs pointed out today, if you put your mind to it, “you can do it”….

Sunday 5th May 2019
“Cancer didn’t bring me to my knees, it brought me to my feet.” —  Michael Douglas

So the day finally arrived, I got my results. All Clear !

Most of last week, I was really quite distracted by the prospect of results day coming up. I have been so focussed for so long on this being the end of my journey, and hearing that the treatment had worked, but for the first time the “what if’s” crept in. It was hard to concentrate on other things, as with each day passing I was thinking about it more and more. I was just wishing the week away and clinging on for Friday.

I’d took the whole day off so I could chill out before going to the hospital. Jayne did too so we walked the kids to school, pottered around the house for a while then did a little shopping before we went to the hospital. Some more enjoyable “us” time.

Usual routine, turn up an hour early, have blood taken. Then we grabbed some lunch in the restaurant while waiting for 2pm, and wandered to the waiting area. It was only a short wait before we got called to sit in a consultation room, but then the 5 minute wait for the Dr to arrive felt like it took forever !

But in he came, fired up the computer and in a really understated way whilst looking at the screen, he uttered the words “everything’s fine.” There was no trace on my CT scan of any enlarged lymph nodes or anything else problematic. It was totally clear. He did make reference to the fact I didn’t have Iodine as part of the scan, but that whilst the scan results were less clear, they were still sufficient to be sure.

Jayne and I looked at each other, beaming smiles, and carried on listening to what he had to say. I did a mini double fist pump in her direction. It went exactly how I had hoped it would. He went into a bit more detail, and then he talked me through what being on Surveillance for 5 years will entail. I also asked about my hands, the sensitivity (peripheral neuropathy) and if there’s anything that can be done to speed up the healing. He recommended just giving it time. There are some anti-depressants that can help, but that doesn’t sound appealing and he wasn’t too keen on taking that approach. I can cope with it, and it sounds like time should heal it. Funnily enough he didn’t have the lung and hearing test results, although I did get the headlines of each on the day I had the tests.

So for 5 years, I’ll have regular checkups. Year 1, every 3 months. Year 2, every 4 months. Years 3 to 5, every 6 months. Apparently guys who have had testicular cancer in one nut, are more likely to develop it in the other one, particularly where there is family history (although none in my family.) However, for those that have had chemo, it’s less likely because the chemo kills off even the earliest of early cancer cells. If I’d been stage 1, i.e. nut removed but no need for chemo because it hadn’t spread, then I’d be on surveillance for 10 years !

Each surveillance appointment is an examination, and blood test. Not as I had suspected, a CT scan each time. He said it will be likely I’ll have a CT scan after a year. Either way, the purpose is to make sure nothing comes back / starts up. For now though, it’s just great to know it was there, and now it’s gone. I beat it !

We both walked out with our heads held high, I’m no longer a cancer patient ! It felt like a victory parade, being absolutely chuffed to bits. We had a few photo’s outside, then we walked back to the car and I called my Mum, then my Dad to let them know. It must have been a huge relief for them to get that call. We picked up Luke and Parker on the way home, and went home to have a quiet night, let it all sink in.

We got to drink that bottle of champagne that’s been chilling since December. The kids seemed a bit underwhelmed with the news. On the surface, they haven’t seemed too bothered by the whole experience, I think because I handled the treatment so well and they didn’t get to see a huge change in me. We told them the good news and they were like “great, can we have some treats to have while we watch the movie tonight?” Kids ! I’m so glad they don’t have anything to worry about.

That was it, a quiet family night to celebrate. I deliberately hadn’t discussed any plans for if I got the good news, because I’m not one to tempt fate. In my usual logical way, like my philosophy of trying not to worry about something if there’s nothing to worry about, don’t celebrate until you have something to celebrate ! We quickly organised a BBQ for Saturday which was really well attended. I got cards, gifts, a balloon, and lots of hugs. Jayne gave a mini speech, then we partied outside with the fire pit on. I let my hair down a bit, had a good amount of booze, but it was great to be celebrating with friends and family. It was well worth the hangover.

And that’s it for now. I’ll retire the regular blogs, but if there’s any key things happening then I’ll write one every now and again. I might write after I’ve done the 10km run in a few weeks, and when I have my first appointment in July/August time.

Just a few reflections on the journey. I’ve met some great people along the way, some of them were fighting their own battle, and couldn’t hope for anything near as good of the outcome I was always odds on to get. It’s quite sad reflecting on that, but I’m grateful to have known them for the short period of time where our paths crossed.

The Christie is an amazing place. If you do have to go there, no patient really wants to have a reason be there, but it’s an exceptional place that’s mostly full of hope and positivity in my experience. The staff are fantastic, from the folks who bring you your meals, all the nurses, the volunteers, and the Dr’s who have managed my case the whole way through. In a weird way having embraced the journey I had to go on, I’ve enjoyed my time there. I still want to fundraise for them, and I’m half way to my goal… https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/chemophil

I know some of you have told me you’ll miss the blog, it was a daily event for you. I’m glad it was well received, and I’m glad it will live on. I can read it back in years to come, I can show it to the kids when they’re older. Hopefully they’ll have a sense of pride reading it back that they are a bit too young to understand just now. Then there’s the reason I wanted to do it in the first place, for other unfortunate souls in a similar predicament to read my experience and hopefully benefit from it. On a daily basis, it’s being read worldwide.

To everyone that has read my blog, friends, family & strangers. Thank you. It’s been a lonely place at times, sat in a hospital bed alone or sat at home feeling crappy and trying to keep busy. Messages, conversations, facebook banter, encouraging me to shave a mohawk etc etc, I can’t tell you how much it helped me through, it was priceless and I’ll never forget it. They are some of my better memories of the journey. I hope I never have to return the favour, but you can count on it if you need me.

My friends at work, in my old and my new job have been mega supportive, which made a huge difference with one potentially major worry not being on my mind. Being able to come and go when I could, kept me sane and mentally well. You might have thought I was as daft as a brush keeping working, but if I had to do it all again I wouldn’t do anything differently. It’ll be great to get back without this in the back of my mind any more.

My family have been great, at what must have been a horribly worrying time. Each played their own part whether it was my Dad playing chauffeur for my chemo trips (or the 2.30am rush job because I fell ill,) my Mum for showing her loving support when she’s not having the easiest time even without me worrying her, and my sister for checking up on me nearly every day and coming over to visit with Xander to keep me company when she could. Messages and support came from across the pond too, from Jayne’s family.

Then there is Jayne. Jayne has been incredible. It wasn’t an easy time at home as you can imagine, I spent 9 days in hospital in total, and the rest of the time being about half as effective as I normally would be. But between us, we made sure the boys lives were not turned upside down, that things kept going as normal, and that was really important. She supported me when I wanted to keep working, or go out on my bike with the kids, because she knows what I’m like ! She’s been at my side at all the important milestone appointments, and above all she’s looked after me. I can’t imagine how I’d have felt in her shoes, but she kept it together so well the whole time.

I’ve learnt a few things about myself too. I surprised myself with how well I got through it. I’m normally laid back about things, and calm in a crisis, but I honestly thought it would be tougher than it was. Some of you have kindly said I got through it relatively easily because of how I approached it, with positivity and determination, and the word inspirational pops up over and over. To me, I just did what I needed to do, in the way I normally do things.

All that’s left to do now is go forth and grow my hair back, then other than the occasional letter dropping on my doorstep with an appointment time, there’ll be no reminders about ever having this godforsaken disease. Not that I want to forget it, I just want to move on from it. And now, I finally can…

Thursday 25th April 2019
“All I can control is myself and just keep having a positive attitude” —  Rose Namajunas

I only started blogging when my chemo started, so I never recorded on here what the 1st CT Scan was like back in Nov/Dec last year. In my last post, I mentioned a few details and how I had an allergic reaction to the Iodine they pumped in me.

Today I had my appointment at 6pm, and it’s a 2 hour affair so I considered it would take up most of my evening. I left work a little early so I could grab a bite to eat before braving the rush hour traffic across Greater Manchester to get to The Christie. My leaving work early coincided with one heck of a thunderstorm, which was all the more enjoyable as I was commuting on my bike. I left work almost in sunshine, but half way home it got dark, then it rained, then it poured, then it got very cold, and then it decided to hail stone some little bullets of ice onto my freezing arms and legs. Hey ho. I needed a quick shower anyway. Yesterday I missed a similar storm by about 2 minutes, but you can’t win them all.

I got there about 5.40pm and checked in, then got seen within 5 minutes. You have to fill in a questionnaire in advance, question 2 is “Are you allergic to Iodine,” which I found out last time that I am. I wondered how this time would differ from the last one. One brilliant consequence of being allergic to the Iodine meant I didn’t need a cannula putting in because they wouldn’t be injecting me with anything as part of the scan. Just the awful drink before hand. I really don’t miss being cannulated !

Firstly I got a different type of drink that didn’t contain Iodine. Last time it didn’t taste too bad as it had blackcurrant flavouring in to mask the nastiness. This time with the alternative drink, no flavouring was available. It was quite thick like a milkshake and had a slight immediate aniseed taste, followed by an aftertaste of what I imagine dirty dishwater would taste like. It’s 2 cups straight away, then another cup every 15 minutes. You get called after about an hour to go for the scan, when the drink has made it around your body and you’ve drunk the lot.

I’d planned ahead, and here’s my top tip. I bought a mint aero and had a block of it after every cup to quickly get rid of the yucky after taste. I got some jealous looks from others sat with their bottles and yucky drinks ! The last cup was the worst because it was a bit thicker at the bottom and I’d eaten all of my aero. But at least it was the last one.

Then you get called for your scan. I should have thought ahead and wore a pair of joggers, rather than the chino’s I wore. If clothing has any metal on it (zip etc) you have to take them off and wear a hospital gown. It’s a bit weird being in a gown with your t-shirt on, and trainers/socks and underwear. I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for those pesky chino’s (and I’d worn joggers instead.) Then you sit in a tiny waiting area to be called for the scan, realising how you might look in a skirt whilst trying to maintain a little dignity.

It was only a few minutes before I got called in, so I wandered over in my blue dress. You get straight into the CT machine, and it’s over in a few minutes. You have to hold your breath and hold completely still while you are moving through the machine and it is scanning you. Apparently I went through a bit slower today because of not having the Iodine going through my body, but that means more radiation exposure each time. I will no doubt have numerous CT Scan’s going forward, I guess I should ask whether it’s a bit too much radiation and if there’s any safer alternatives. I’d hate to get cancer as a result of being treated for cancer.

All done for about 6.50pm, which was half the time I was there last time. Another bonus of having the allergy to Iodine, no cannula removal or the 15 minute wait to see if you react to the Iodine. All in all a good efficient trip, and home in time to see the kids before bedtime. Having drunk a lot again, the number of toilet trips was reminiscent of being on the 3 days of chemo, just without having to take my wheeled friend Bob along with me each time. I’m pretty sure I’ll be up a few more times in the night.

That’s the last test now, it’s just a wait until next Friday to see the Dr and hear the results. So that’s the overall cancer (has it been defeated?), my hearing test results, and my lung test results. I’m genuinely not worrying about it. What is there to worry about? It’s either worked or it hasn’t and I can’t control anything between now and then, other than to keep positive as usual and continue to move on from it all. If I don’t get the outcome I wanted, then we’ll readjust and tackle whatever comes up.

I’ve booked the Friday morning off work too, so I can do something enjoyable (read: bike ride) in the morning so I’m chilled out before I go in. Treat it like somewhat of a “normal” day. I’ve had a bottle of champagne in the fridge since Xmas, which has been sat waiting for the sole purpose of celebrating the “All Clear” whenever that may be. I’m hoping to drink it next Friday…

Monday 22nd April 2019
“You can’t cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water” —  Rabindranath Tagore

So we’re just over 6 weeks past now, and it’s safe to say I’m back to normal bar a few lingering issues. I’ve had some tests done too, and it looks like the chemo has affected me but nothing too drastic, although I won’t get the proper results until early May. There are a few things of note to talk about.

Starting with day to day though. My main issue is that my fingers still hurt when I do things like opening a can of coke, tightening a screw with my fingers etc. This is now routinely a pain in the behind, and I often ask Jayne to do things. This seemed to be going away then it came back. I’m wondering if the more I try to do, the more it comes back and hurts. This is one I’ll have to discuss with the Dr when I go back in May. I really hope it goes away.

Hair ! It’s coming back a bit quicker, I still have baby hair across my head but my whole beard growing region, which also started out as baby hair, is pretty much back now. I look “normal” with a baseball cap on. Hopefully it won’t be long before the head hair takes hold too. I feel better now just having a “shadow” of hair and not a shining reflective beacon of a head. It’s been sunny the last few days so I’ve been in a cap to make sure I don’t burn it and end up with a red flashing beacon of a head.

I went for my hearing test last week too. Basically you sit on a chair in a soundproof room, and put some headphones on that do well to block out sound. They play you sounds at varying pitches, some very high pitched and some quite deep. Each sound firstly comes on quite loudly, then another 3 times getting quieter each time. You press a button when you hear it each time. Pre-Chemo, I’m pretty sure I aced it and got every sound.

This time, straight away by sitting in silence, I noticed I have a constant high pitched beeping in my ears. I hadn’t noticed this before. I started well, hearing the deeper noises, but some of the high pitched sounds almost matched the frequency of the constant beeping I can hear, thus when this sound got quieter, I couldn’t hear it. The lady did say she saw me struggling on some, but that I got all of the sounds that are aligned with the frequencies of human voices. Day to day it doesn’t seem to effect me, and the pre-chemo info does say your hearing of high pitched frequencies may be affected. It would seem mine has been. Again like the lung test, the Dr will give me the proper results next week.

I talked about the lung function test last time, since going for the test and hearing there may have been slight deterioration I haven’t noticed anything different whilst exercising. My heart rate is back down to a normal rate when on the bike.

Talking about the bike, I had mentioned a 41 miler I did a few weeks back and I had been commuting to work and back since then, getting a little faster each week and seeing my heart rate drop down further signalling continued improvement. This Easter weekend was gorgeous sunshine, so I wanted to get out early one morning and do a few hours riding. I decided (maybe foolishly) that I’d try a 100 miler. No other reason than I really wanted “it”, with “it” being that sense of being like I was before. I had given myself until September to be that fit again, with the 100 mile (hilly) sportive I signed up to as a comeback ride. I didn’t expect to be doing it within 6 weeks, but it felt within reach, so why not try and grab it.

I planned my route, incidentally pretty much the same ride I did on 28th April last year. Pretty flat, no real hills, 50 miles up to Lytham St Annes, and 50 miles home again. I set off at 5.05am on Easter Saturday, and off I went. Around 31 miles in, around Chorley, I could feel my legs tiring a little and honestly considered turning back and just doing a 100km ride (62 miles,) which would still have been 50% further than my longest ride this year. The problem with an “out and back” route, is that you are always getting further away from your start point, so if you bonk, you’ve still gotta get home (or get the train.) But no, sod it I thought, I’d got up early to do it and got it in my head I’d do it, I’d just manage my legs well and be sensible with no big efforts. Mind over matter.

It worked ! I stopped at 56 miles for a sandwich, milkshake, mint Magnum ice cream, and to fill my water bottles, then pedalled home fuelled with some spearmint Polo’s. From about 78 miles, my legs had nearly had enough and it gave me a mental wobble. I stopped for 10 minutes, got going again, and from 90 miles onwards the expectation of and desire for success carried me home. 5 hours 55 minutes of riding, 100.45 miles. Take that Cancer and Chemo and everything else ! It felt bloody fabulous when the screen ticked over to 100 miles, that was one major fist pump I let out…

I should probably run though. It’s 4 weeks until the Manchester 10km and I still haven’t run a mile without stopping. I must run more the next few weeks, but it remains a struggle. Whatever happens, I’ll get to the end of that thing, I just want to know I gave it my best shot. I’m really looking forward to it. I’ll know my results by then, and something tells me that either way, getting to that finish line on the day is going to be an emotional achievement.

On Thursday evening at 6pm it’s the big one, I have my CT scan. I haven’t been to The Christie for a good few weeks now, but it’s time to go back. I know the routine now. Arrive at 6pm, spend an hour sitting drinking an awful tasting drink to make my insides glow up for their pictures. Then normally, put a gown on, have a cannula put in, and wait my turn. They pump Iodine into your blood through the cannula as you are going through the CT machine. The whole process has over an hours preparation with the drinks etc, then only takes about 2 minutes in the machine.

Now last time, they pumped the Iodine into my cannula to make my insides glow, and then held me back for 15 minutes to make sure I hadn’t had a reaction (as is standard for everyone.) They leave the cannula in so that if you have a reaction, they can give you medication intravenously. I didn’t, so they took out the cannula and I went to get dressed. Then I noticed in the mirror my back and chest were covered in itchy lumps and I’d not noticed them. I had one of those moments; do I a) Just leave so I can beat the traffic (it was getting towards 5pm), or b) Tell them just in case it’s serious. I chose b) and they had to put another cannula in to give me some anti histamines. I waited half an hour and the lumps had pretty much gone, so they let me go home. The important part though was that they know now that I react to Iodine.

I’m a little worried that if they can’t pump me full of Iodine this time, then the scan won’t be as effective and it might not work / they might miss something etc. I told my Dr weeks ago, and he said not to worry as they’d probably use something else instead. I’ll mention it as soon as I get there and see what they decide. That’s been bothering me for a while but I’m sure I’m not the first to react to the Iodine.

Either way I trust them, and then it’s just a countdown until the big big day on the 3rd May, results day. Still hoping for that “all clear” but not worrying about anything until there’s something to worry about.

I still really want to raise £4,000 for The Christie too, and this week an anonymous donor gave me a phenomenal donation, which ticked me over to the half way mark on £2,000.01p. I’m doing the Manchester 10km in May, the 100 mile hilly sportive in September, and I’ll have to get creative about some other things too rather than just asking for sponsorship. So many have donated already, thanks again for that !

Donations are welcome here. If you work somewhere where they do dress down donations, or similar and you get to suggest a charity, then please think about my page… #TeamChemoPhil https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/chemophil

11 days until results day…

Tuesday 9th April 2019
“I didn’t get there by wishing for it or hoping for it, but by working for it” —  Estee Lauder

It’s been a couple of weeks since I last blogged, mainly because I haven’t really had much to blog about still. But I guess those following for a taste of how recovery from BEP goes, it’s still important to talk about how uneventful things are.

I’ve been back at work now since a few days after chemo finished, back to working normal hours and commuting the 15 mile round trip to the office on my bicycle the 3 days a week I go in, the other 2 days working from home. Routine is completely normal, no tiredness, I don’t recall when my last daytime nap was ! Day to day, for a few weeks now it’s almost been as if the chemo never happened.

I say almost, every time I catch a glimpse of my reflection I’m reminded I’m still bald. This, I continue to be the most gutted about. I want my hair back ! That said, I have certainly regained the ability to grow a moustache. Eyebrows, armpit hair, also on the way back now. Head hair though, I shaved my head and face 9 days ago. Moustache area has needed to be shaved since. Goatee area is soon catching up. Cheeks and neck, I have reasonably long hair now but it’s very fine and light so you don’t notice it unless you’re up close. Head, just some very short, fine and light hairs, really taking it’s time to get going much to my annoyance. I don’t want to be limited to going Heisenberg forever…

Day to day is certainly back to pre-chemo. Exercise is still lagging, but improving. Early post-chemo, any form of exercise would max out my heart rate. After a week, that started to subside. Right now, my heart rate is back to normal-ish, still a bit high but from lack of fitness. The 15 mile round trips to work were tiring to start with, but I have persevered and over the weekend I went out for a few hours and managed a 41 mile ride at a decent pace, so the short blasts to work and back have been doing the job. My legs were sore after that where they usually wouldn’t be but, that’s just part of regaining my old legs. I did however meet with my cycling coach for the first time, at the velodrome in Manchester. Just a bike setup, but some useful adjustments made and more to make and I should be a little more efficient out there. Marginal gains…

I’m not a runner, but in my chemo induced state in cycle 1 I seem to recall, I signed up for the Great Manchester Run (10km) on 19th May as a short term comeback goal. Running has not gone well at all. I still haven’t run a mile continuously without stopping. Because I’ve been unfit, I’ve been running slow. Running slow means shorter strides. My calves are tight from having not done a lot, and the shorter strides are causing mayhem, intense calf pain. Again, unlikely chemo related, but related to growing unfit over the chemo period. I need to just get out and get fitter so I can run a bit faster and the pain goes away. Its happened to me before. I just want to run the whole 10km without stopping, that’s my goal. 5 1/2 weeks to go, lots of work to do here.

In terms of symptoms, I’ll talk about the usual suspects. Some have gone, some linger. I don’t get dry lips any more, but my hands are still quite dry. I’ve discovered “O’Keefes Working Hands” which is doing a good job at the moment. The pain in my hands (peripheral neuropathy) has eased a little, but my fingers still hurt when doing intricate things like turning a key in a lock etc. It’s real slow progress on this side of things. I still get occasions of ringing in my ears, the tinnitus, but it’s not so frequent. I notice less that my hearing seems a little different, again I’m not sure if this is because I’ve got used to it or it’s gone away. Other than the hearing and hand issues, I’m fairly back to normal.

It’s been good to spend some quality time with the family, rather than as a zombie on the sofa merely in their presence, which is how chemo felt a lot of the time. Going out on the bikes, doing some gardening with the boys etc, I’m an outdoor / doing type of dad and I’d missed that. In the age of tablets and screens, the boys need a kick up the bum a lot of the time to get outside and do things.

As for me and Jayne, I said we needed more time together, date nights etc. My work family picked up on this and got us a joint present, a meal and a cinema trip which was awesome, an excuse to get out. We’d also booked some days off work, Fri, Mon Tues (today) to have some family time. On Fri & Sat, we had a friend look after the boys so we went to Go Ape in Delamere forest, then came back to Media City for a few drinks, a bit of shopping, a nice meal, and a hotel stay for some peace and quiet. We love the Salford Quays area, having got married at the Lowry Theatre so it was nice to spend some “us time” there.

In terms of next steps, my tests have begun. Yesterday I was at Wythenshawe Hospital for my post-chemo Lung Function test. At 5pm on a Monday, I was the last patient of the day. The chap who did the test said I’ve got some of the biggest lungs (volume) he’s seen, and from what I could make out it looks like I’m still in the “normal” range for the tests, but perhaps down a little on pre-chemo results. I’ll find out properly when I see my Dr in May. It’s a funny old test, wearing a nose clip and having to do some quite specific breathing routines.

On Friday morning I have my hearing test, which again will be interesting to see the results of, and to have a chat with the audiologist about my “fuzzy” hearing sensations and what they may be. Then the big one on the 25th April, the CT Scan. A 6pm appointment lasting 2 hours will take an evening from me but it’s for the greater good. Results day is on the 3rd May when I get to hear the results of all 3. Fingers remain well and truly crossed.

It would be easy to moan about adjusting back over the last few weeks, but you know I prefer to focus on the positives, and I stress again it’s not been all that bad. I’ve adjusted back incredibly quickly, probably pushed the boundaries a little early in some cases, such is my drive to plough on. It’s not always been easy, it’s been hard work at times, but the hard work and perseverance pays off.

There are definitely some positives, like having saved maybe £2 to £3 on shampoo so far. There’s a time saving too, I’ve probably saved an hour in total not having to shampoo my non existent hair over the last few weeks, and towel drying is also a lot quicker. I’d buy a £50 bottle of shampoo right now though, if it meant my hair would come back quicker. Patience has never been my strong point…

Edit – chemo-brain, although I mostly denied having it at the time, seems to have gone too. The tiredness particularly made it hard to concentrate on things. Even after proof reading some of my posts 2 or 3 times during chemo, I still sent them out there with quite a few spelling or nonsense errors, so some nights I got Jayne to check them too and she found lots of errors. Tonight, she didn’t find any at all. Maybe there is such thing as chemo-brain…

Sunday 24th March 2019
“Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity” —  Hippocrates

So I last caught up 5/6 days after I finished Chemo. I’d taken it easy at weekend, then had a couple of days off work where I cycled and did some stuff, then went back to work on the Wednesday. On the Wednesday, I commuted on the MTB and it was hard, my heart rate was sky high still, then on Thurs I had to work from home because of a bad tummy (non chemo related.) Then I worked from home on Friday too.

Day to day life was pretty much back to normal as of 1 week post-chemo, i.e. the last Bleomycin shot. No more naps required or getting tired during the day, no getting out of breath or overly tired running up the stairs or doing menial things etc.

Last weekend, some friends came up from Northampton to see us and Jayne had a party for her birthday on Sunday so we had a packed house, and it was quite a tiring day doing the prep, entertaining then clearing up. Well worth it though 🙂

Days 10 to 14 post chemo, Mon to Fri this week have been relatively normal. It’s the first time in 2019 I’ve worked 5 day week ! Monday from home, Tuesday the office, Weds/Thurs 2 strategic off site away days which were great, then Friday from home. No problems getting up, or with tiredness, or even commuting on the bicycle.

For those interested in how you react to exercise, on Tuesday and Thursday I commuted on my bike (7+ miles each way.) No longer is my heart rate jumping straight to maximum just by turning the pedals on the bike, like it was last week. I’m now just noticing I’m incredibly unfit. I took the winter road bike out, and it’s obviously less effort than the MTB, but it’s still tough going. HR is still quite high, but mine historically has been when I start exercising from an unfit starting point. I’d say I’m pretty much back to normal other than being unfit, and I need to claw back the fitness.

I’ve done a little running this week, across town from the office to the car park and from home to school because I was running late, and it’s hard work. My legs hurt a bit from this, but no more than when I run for the first time in ages. It’s like starting from scratch, but again there doesn’t appear to be any chemo symptoms holding me back. I’ve got the Great Manchester 10km run on 19th May, so I need to get into a rhythm.

On Saturday afternoon, I went for a run and it was a bit of a disaster. Just over half a mile in, calf pain/tightness struck and the rest of the 2.8 mile “run” was pretty much hell. I can’t help being hard on myself because I can’t help comparing to what I could do pre-chemo, but anyone who goes cold turkey on the training for 9 weeks would see a drop off. I suspect the pain was a combo of muscles not having had a lot of use, and bad trainers. New trainers, stretching and more running are my plan of attack.

Symptom wise, heres a few updates:

• Tiredness – gone. Alarm being set for 6.15am, commuting on the bike, full day at work, cycle home, no naps, bed 10pm+, all fine. Back to pre-chemo state.
• Physical activity – seems like my heart rate / blood is back to normal, I’m just contending with a big loss of fitness from not doing anything physical for 9 weeks.
• Tinnitus / Hearing – the random occurrence of beeping in my ear, it still occurs but far less frequently. My muffled hearing is subsiding, it’s still noticeable in confined spaces like the shower but less so as time goes on.
• Hands – they still hurt somewhat when doing things like opening ring pulls although not when driving etc. My fingers itch too. I keep using cold packs which provides temporary relief. I have a feeling this will be slow progress for it to subside, and desperately hope it’s not permanent.
• Appetite / Taste – Appetite is about 80 – 90% of normal. I’m not quite as hungry as I used to be, and am eating slightly smaller portions. Taste is also mostly restored but not 100%, some foods still taste slightly off. I still have very little desire to drink alcohol, I can manage 1 beer or cider for example but it’s also as if after 1 my body tells me it’s not enjoying it. Perhaps it’s similar trying to extract the alcohol as it was the chemo and it’s pretty much tired of doing it. I bought a bottle of Estrella for Friday night, which I love, and never felt like drinking it. I had it on Saturday, nice but again 1 was enough. We also had a Chinese on Fri night, my fave, which I didn’t enjoy quite as much and only ate 2/3rds of it.
• Hair loss – the last couple of days, my hair on my head and face seems to have started growing albeit very very slowly, still seems very dark so I’m guessing it won’t grow back lighter. It is softer and thinner hair than before like baby hair, particularly facial hair, not quite as bristly. However, I can’t wait to stop looking like Uncle Fester, so the sooner the better. I’ve heard that at 3 to 4 weeks it starts growing at a normal rate.

I’ve got a CT scan booked now for the 25th April, still waiting for the Hearing and Lung tests to come through. It’s a 6pm!?!? appointment and lasts about 2 hours. Fun. Then the results of it on the 3rd May. Between now and then I’m keen to see how quickly I can shed some of the 1 stone I put on, and get back to being as fit as I was before 🙂

Quick Update

Back to last night’s last paragraph. So Jayne had complained about being sick most of the night then about 9.30pm and 10.15pm she was sick, a lot ! I said I felt iffy too, and went to sleep probably about 10.30pm after blogging, although I had an uncomfortable toilet trip first. Well at 11.20pm, I woke up and realised it was my turn to be sick. Ran to the toilet, no messing, out it came. I had a drink and went back to sleep.

Jayne was up about 4am for her round 3, whereas I made it to morning where I carried on with the uncomfortable toilet trips. That said, I didn’t sleep well at all and certainly didn’t wake feeling well rested.

We’ve put it down to the magic of children coming home with bugs. Parker has most probably passed on the norovirus.

As I’m still potentially under the effects of the chemo from last Friday, I was taking my temperature this morning and it was between 37.5 and 38 which during chemo would have been cause to call the hotline and expect to be admitted. I decided to start the day and see how things went, it soon fell. I read up on chemo vs norovirus, and it seems there are no antibiotics to get rid of it either so it’s just a case of waiting for it to pass. I felt fairly ok, so I worked from home for the day, best not to go share the love with colleagues given it’s so infectious. Jayne on the other hand was worse and spent the whole day on the sofa, hasn’t really eaten and hasn’t been herself. Although I did need a 2 hour nap earlier, mostly making up for the sleep I didn’t get last night.

I’m sure this is non chemo related given me and Jayne and I had it within a few hours of each other, and that I’m far enough past the evil stuff that the chemo wasn’t a factor, it was just a 24 hour bug. But I still find it incredibly ironic I managed 9 weeks without being sick once, then Parker gifts a bout of nausea to me within 5 days of finishing up. How unlucky ! Just a blip.

While I’m here, symptom update. My fingers, right hand particularly, are tingly and itchy to the point I’ve got the cold packs out again today to try and provide relief. Still sore when handling fiddly things. I can’t wait for this to go away.