Undercover.

I’m back! And it’s not Tuesday.

Apologies for my short absence but I was actually undercover.  Either under the cover of my duvet, or under the cover of a blanket on my couch.

It’s been nine days since I had my last chemo session (sounds like I’m at an AA meeting!) and I haven’t been outside the house since.  Imagine!  I had round one, of four, of a new cocktail of poison called A/C, the abbreviated name for Adriamycin and Cyclophosphamide.  Who makes up these names, and do they make them so difficult to spell on purpose?  I have chemo brain (according to my nurse it's well documented so I'll be using it as an excuse for everything now!), so it’s a challenge to spell my own name, never mind one of those far too long drug names.  One lot was bright orange color and one was the usual clear color, I don’t know which was which, but I do know, that unlike the Taxol, I felt the after effects as soon as I got home.  They knocked me for six. I did ask those in the know what do these drugs do to the tumor/cancer that the Taxol didn’t and the only answer I got was that they do the same thing but they work in a different way.  So I’m none the wiser. I can only equate it to what I know, an engine perhaps, you can have a diesel one or a petrol one, they both do the same thing, but work in different ways.

I had been warned that I’ll be very unwell after receiving these drugs but it still took me by surprise, and along with the surprise, I also have a whole new regime of anti sicknesses drugs and steroids to take.  Plus, on top of all that, I have to inject myself with an immune boosting drug 24 hours after receiving the chemo. Yikes!!  No rest for the wicked! I must have been very wicked....

So, this injection, the day after the chemo the hospital sent a nurse out to show me how to administer it. Apparently it’s easy to do and I should be able to manage it myself.  (NM told me she only ever had one patient who couldn’t manage to do it and she had no intention of having that number go to two!)  Yikes.  No pressure. The nurse was great, she had a ‘dummy’ needle kit which we practiced with and I was able to manage with no trouble.  I had to practice with the sharpsafe box also and I was able to manage that too.  But, of course, when it came to actually sticking the real shiny pointed very long menacing looking needle into myself, I just couldn’t do it. Epic failure.  Don’t tell NM, my name will be mud!!  Just as well I’m not really one of those investigative reporters that has to do all this sort of stuff, I’d definitely be sacked.  Anyway, the nurse did it for me and she has to come back next week and go through the whole process again.  Fingers crossed I’ll be braver the next time. I’ll have to be, 'cos she won’t come back a third time.

It’s not all bad news though, I’ve finished work for the foreseeable future, so I’m a full time patient now and I have an army of carers lined up to look after me over the next few weeks.  Just so they know in advance, I got one of NM’s score cards and I’ll be marking them on their performance, for example, who makes the best coffee, who makes the best soup, who makes the best dinner, who makes the best cake, who picks the best stuff to watch on TV and of course who entertains me with the best gossip.

My big sister, Deirdre, headed up the first delegation of carers aided and abetted by a visiting from London brother, Ciaran.  A big thank you to them.  Between them they were able to cater to my every demand, which were many and insistent. Score cards have been updated and the next lot of carers be warned, the bar is set very high for your shift.  Although Deirdre said she wasn’t coming back again unless I stayed where I was supposed to, as in, on the couch! 

Rusty would like to thank Patrick, my nephew also visiting from London, for taking him round the park every hour.

In other good news I managed not to have to use the vomit (too much information, sorry!) basin that was my best friend for the first few days.  It was a very good friend and followed me from the couch to my bed and waited patiently by my side, even though I ignored it and then casually tossed it aside when I knew I didn’t need it anymore.

And speaking of being cared for, I am the recipient of yet another lovely care package.  This one came all the way from the Black Forest in Germany (thanks Gabrielle!), I only hope I’m not too sick to eat all the goodies inside.  I wont be cold either with the also enclosed Dr Who Tom Baker style scarf! I think you have a challenger for the knitter of the year title Deirdre.

There’s no denying it was a tough few days, so tough that I hadn’t the strength to write, but I got through them, I’m here to tell the tale and I’m still in good form.  Hopefully my immune system will have recovered enough to go thought the whole process again next week! I know that sounds mad, wishing to be well enough to be poisoned all over again, but it’s one step closer to the finish line, so fingers, legs, eye, wires crossed for good blood results on Tuesday.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been so undercover that I haven’t been outside for over a week, I’m really looking forward to going outside again, even if it is only for a trip to the hospital, but until Tuesday, I'm staying undercover(s).

Rogue reporter.

Good evening.

This is the editor of the Toxic Times.  Our normal Toxic Tuesday reporter hasn’t arrived at work today, so there will be no piece by her in todays publication.

No need to panic, we did get a garbled message from her, something to do with a rogue nurse, a double dose, a couch and a basin at the ready.  As she is on an undercover assignment we’re not fully up to speed on all the details and not quite sure what she means, so we can’t comment, but she did assure us she was OK and would be back at her desk next week.

We’d like to thank you on her behalf for your continued readership.

The Editor

A not so bad day.

Well reality has finally hit home. I’m definitely feeling the effects of the build up of the chemotherapy in my body now. 

As you may know, I can’t drive myself to or from the hospital, so that’s Tall Kevin’s job.  When he’s unable to, for some reason or another, I have a group of reserve drivers on standby.  Dad is on this list, and was the designated bring me home driver for today.

The last time Dad collected me I didn’t have any treatment because my bloods were too low.  Well, he’s officially off the list for collecting me now as, yes you've guessed it, I didn’t get any treatment today either!

I got a very bad score today in my assessment.  The questions I usually answer yes to, I answered no to, the questions I usually answer no to, I answered yes to and the questions I usually answer sometimes to I answered all the time to.  But I suppose I shouldn’t complain as I’ve gotten far without too much trouble.  My fingers not working properly, not my bloods, were the catalyst today.  The little bit I could do around the house is getting harder and harder to do and I keep dropping things, so I had to admit this to the nurse today.  I’ve already dropped the lid of my butter dish and broke off the little bird that sits on the top which is actually the handle.  Luckily Dad is handy with super glue (I’ll keep him on the list for those sort of jobs) and had it back together in no time.  But the most annoying thing about having butterfingers (ha!) is that I can’t take the wrappers off the sweets I’ve become addicted to.  Once the nurses heard this, that was it, I was marched straight in to see the grumpy man in the suit, and after answering all the same questions that I answered for the nurse, he declared that I’d had enough!  Enough Taxol that is, not sweets.  Phew!

But I suppose that would have been the worst thing that could happen, not eating sweets that is, as I don’t want my teeth to fall out from all the sugar in the sweets and as I’ve already lost my hair, if I also lose my teeth I may as well change my name to Healy-Rae and move to the Kingdom!  

I’ve no idea how quickly the feeling will come back into my fingers, so the next person that comes in and asks if there is anything they can do for me I’m going to get them to take all the wrappers off the sweets.  Priorities!  And of course it’s always better to be prepared for emergencies.

So the upside to this is that now I will be getting the A/C combination drug two weeks earlier (which doesn't cause peripheral neuropathy), and all going well, this means I’ll be finished with NM earlier than expected.  Result!  By coincidence I bumped into her while I was waiting for the lift.  She was very concerned that she got it so wrong with my skin, which has erupted fiercely over the last couple of weeks with psoriasis, and she’s gone off to see how/if she can fix that for me.  So I suppose she’s not the worst after all.

I’m also going to have to think about reducing my working hours.  The nurse in the dressing clinic, where I go to have my port connected and my bloods taken, was amazed that I’m still working and gave me a dressing (sorry!) down and a stern talking to about ‘looking after number one’.  I was too tired to argue with her and I suppose she does have a point.  So having the A/C a couple of weeks early is also good from this point of view as I had told my work colleagues that I probably wouldn’t be able to work whilst getting this much stronger combination.  I’m struggling with fatigue too, and it’s going to get worse over the next few weeks, so cutting down my hours or stopping work altogether will happen sooner than I expected also.  Apparently everything else is going to get worse too, nausea, mouth ulcers, pain, so it may seem crazy to be happy that the A/C is starting earlier than expected, but I am just happy that it’s going to be over earlier than expected.

An other side effect of the A/C that doesn’t happen with Taxol is the small chance that it can effect your heart.  So I was trotted off today to have an ultrasound on my heart.  I found this fascinating.  I would have stayed there all day asking questions and watching the pictures of my heart working away.  The radiographer doing the scan was great and explained everything as we went along.  It reminded me of the lesson we had in school when we had to buy a pigs heart from a local butcher and bring it in and dissect it.  My one overriding image memory of that day is the Nun (I can't remember her name but no doubt Irene Kenny will!!) with her hands dug into the arteries of the pigs heart and rummaging around to her hearts (ha!) content.  Yikes!  My imagery for today is way better, and much more hi-tech and everybody's hands were where everybody could see them!  They will never give you results while doing the scan, but she did indicate that everything ls looking good and my heart is in good shape.  Lets hope it stays like that!

So all in all, what could have been another disappointing day, turned into a not so bad one.  

And, as an added bonus, it's Cian's birthday today, and he is here, so we had cake.  A perfect ending!