Collapsing Veins and Humble Pie

Thursday 8th December

I went to have my 12th round of Herceptin last week and it would appear that my last decent vein is slowly but surely giving up the ghost. A few days before this I had slipped down the stairs and smashed my right elbow in to the stairs. I did think for a short moment that I might have broken something, but fortunately not.

However, it occurred to me that had I broken my right arm this would leave no place to stick needles in. The nurse, expert that she is, did manage to stick the needle in my collapsing vein successfully. When I asked what she wold have done had I turned up with my right arm in plaster she mentioned something about legs and feet! I don't think she was joking, but I must tried to avoid breaking my right arm.

Yesterday I went to a different hospital to the physiotherapy unit for the pain in my neck. No not my children, they are the pain in my wallet!!! My neck pain I should point out is completely unrelated to my cancer or ongoing treatment, it's just the rest of my falling apart, slowly.

Anyway, whilst there I bumped into an old friend who I haven't seen in years. (I really must make more of an effort to keep up contact.) Well she has been suffering from lymphoma (cancer of the lymph system) and to cut a long story short, it took a while to diagnose as she did not display any of the typical symptoms. Upshot is she had in-patient chemotherapy, including spinal injections and because this is not a type of cancer you can operate on had to rely entirely on the chemo, which from the sound of it was very rigorous. She is currently in remission and is having physio for the after effects of the chemo and cancer, weakened muscles and the like.

Well, having spoken to her I felt unbelievably humbled by her experience and whilst I probably have a slightly better idea of what she has gone through than many of you, I can hardly begin to imagine exactly what she has endured. It makes my last year or so seem like a cake walk in comparison and I am beyond grateful that my cancer, diagnosis and treatment have all been relatively quick, straightforward and by and large, endurable.

Whilst I don't tend to like to play the Pollyanna Glad Game, every so often I think it is a good thing that something happens which puts my own situation very much in perspective.