Thursday, June 22, 2006

Why So Late With The News?


Sorry to all those awaiting the news with baited breath.............I think everyone knows by now anyway..............but I've been too busy LIVING!

As you can see 'living' included a family trip to the zoo - simple pleasures!

If I look a tad serious above, it's only from the effort of holding in a stone's worth of steroid induced stomach, and from keeping one eye shut and the other open......of which more later.
So much has happened and there's so much to say that the only place to start is where I left off last time. So, taking a deep breath and marshalling what remains of my memory, Let me begin......... it's only three weeks ago but it already seems like aeons.

After my bone marrow biopsy I had a few days to recover before having my CT scan. I'd been feeling pretty well, but the anaesthetic seemed to be enough to wipe me out for two or three days. Unlike the biopsy, the scan is not too unpleasant a procedure - unless you find the prospect of consuming a jugful of watery orange squash particularly concerning. More stressful than the tests was the waiting, although more for Jessica than me. I once again engaged my ostrich-like approach to these things and remained unphased until the morning of my appointment, when I was forced to resort to some very loud music to calm my shredded nerves - and further jangle Jessica's no doubt.

And then it was off to St. Lymphoma's . I think we'd both already decided what we would hear and were expecting partial remission at best. You can't imagine how long the wait felt, even though I had the distraction of getting yet more blood taken and tested prior to the appointment. The Big Cheese was away at a conference.... isn't it always the way......so we were seen by a young scottish doctor who gave us the glad tidings.................

(For those of you thinking "for goodness sake get to the point")

Here is the News!

  • No signs of cancer were detected in my bone marrow sample, and my scan also showed no evidence of any abnormalities. I am therefore classified as being in Complete Remission Hoo...F*****g...rah!

What happens next?

  • I've an appointment in three months time for a clinic review, but if I have any concerns or symptoms prior to the appointment I can be seen the same day by the docs at St. Lymphoma's (very reassuring). They don't generally do regular scans as these can actually induce lymphoma if carried out too frequently but, in view of the fact that my cancer presented itself suddenly at an advanced stage without prior signs or symptoms, it's likely that I'll have a precautionary CT scan in six months time.

What's the prognosis?

  • Difficult to say! There's around an 80% chance of the lymphoma returning, so this is almost certainly not a cure, but there's no reason why the lymphoma can't be treated again if it does return. The fact that I had a good response this time may be an indicator of my likely future response to treatment.
  • As to when it might return, that could be anytime between six months and never - obviously the longer the better as far as I'm concerned.

Is there anything you can do to improve your chances?

  • Yes - resist the temptation to start smoking yet again and try and stay as fit as I can so that if it does come back my body's in the best shape to fight it..............and, maybe, be happy and live whatever life I've got to the fullest.

We were obviously delighted by the news, but our reactions were more of relief and release of pent up emotion than of joy or euphoria. What do you do in such a situation? Well, we went across the road to the gym where I made the symbolic gesture of renewing my membership while Jessica sat at the busstop outside and wept! I'd already had my own tearful episode during the appointment.

We then went home and drank a bottle of champagne.

As you can see, I was barely fit enough to get the bottle open....

Then it was time for a sleep!

and then off to Brighton for more alcohol with old friends....
and finally back home to meet Morgan and his grandma on their return from a long weekend in Paris.





















As you can imagine, I was keen to get on with some of the things I'd wanted but been unable to do whilst I'd been ill - like planting some flowers in the garden. So monday found me sticking marigolds into the ground when, leaning forward, I managed to impale my right eye on the end of a phoenix canariensis frond - that's a canary date palm and it's sharp!

So it was back to hospital for me - first to St. Lymphoma's and then to Moorfields Eye Hospital where I used to work. Never imagined I'd be back as a patient. I was actually seen by a doctor I'd done some teaching with. He had a scrape at the front of my eye, gave me a prescription for some antibiotic eyedrops, recommended some painkillers and sent me on my way with both eyes clamped shut. So my first week of official 'wellness' was spent tottering gingerly around the house with my arms outstretched in front of me.

So where do we go from here?

Just before I became ill I was reading a book by the cyclist Lance Armstrong about his experience of testicular cancer. He was given little chance of survival but went on to make a full recovery - and to win seven consecutive Tour de France titles. So the message for me is clear...... I should take up cycling.......

No, actually, I was struck by the fact that he found the period after he was given the all clear as hard, if not harder, to cope with than the period when he was undergoing chemotherapy. I hesitate to compare my situation to his, but I can understand how he felt I think - although I'm not quite sure why. I know at the moment I'm certainly feeling a little lost and directionless, as well as experiencing some anxiety and depression, which, on the face of it, makes no sense at all as I know should be leaping around enjoying every moment my recovering health allows me. I understand, however, that whilst being utterly illogical, this is not an uncommon reaction. So why should I be feeling this way? Let me make a few guesses.........

  • Having had a very clear purpose and focus to my existence over the last six months this has now been removed. The target has been reached, so what next?
  • Although the result was the best it could possibly be, the cancer is still highly likely to return and, even if treatable, this means more chemo and/or a transplant. So whilst I'm celebrating my result - and believe me I am, and I'm grateful for the many congratulations I've received - this is not the end.
  • The awareness that one should be 'making the most' of every moment can create a pressure of it's own. The temptation is to constantly be assessing whether what one's doing is 'worthwhile'.
  • Having got through the treatment, I now have both the time and the energy to set my emotions free - this suggests of course that I have a choice in the matter, whereas in fact I feel that my own emotions are letting loose on me.
  • I'm just a miserable old sod at heart.

Besides my own mental frailties, a vital question is nagging at me:

What to do with St. Lymphoma's News?

Obviously, I wont need to post regular updates about my health. In fact I hope never to have to do so again, but, on the other hand, I've grown rather fond of the opportunity to exercise my brain this blog gives me. So, I think I shall continue - perhaps re-branding is required? I'm open to suggestions.

Anyway, we can all look forward to the last of the old style St Lymphoma's reports which will provide full coverage of the highlight of this Summer season:

St. Lymphoma's Annual Barbecue and Fete

To be held in the graceful grounds of 'Rattling Mansions' here in darkest North London - I look forward to seeing all of you there.

Until then I leave you with a couple of pictures from last weekend's escape to the Lake District.

Morgan in midstream ...... and an Old Wreck (how appropriate)

I love the optimism embodied in that 'keep clear' sign!

TTFN





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