My last post was, to say the least, a little on the miserable side. Well dear reader you will be pleased to hear that I am in a much happier frame of mind.
Nothing much has occurred to promote this mood I think it is just the swings and roundabouts of having cancer and its treatment.
As you can imagine death preoccupies my mind a lot and I ponder on whether part of what makes my current condition so irritating is the fact that I know I will probably die prematurely (although by prematurely I'm aiming for my mid 70s rather than my family average of mid 80s). Many hundreds of people get up every morning and never make it home. Is ignorance bliss in this instance?
I had my 10th treatment this week, which not only went without incident but also went extremely swiftly. I went on my own because my lovely husband was away on business in Amsterdam. At least this is what he told me! I did consider taking someone with me, but decided against it as it is mind numbingly boring and I would feel slightly obliged to "entertain" the person who came with me. This leads to the obvious conclusion that I don't mind boring the pants off my husband. Whilst this is partially true, he has signed up for the in sickness and health bit, so it goes with the job. Also we're very good at sitting in companionable silence and he doesn't feel the need to ensure that I am all right all the time, so he disappears off from time to time, usually to talk to work.
My general aches and pains are now very much a part of my life. As I said to the nurse during assessment, I feel like a fish and chip shop cod, lightly battered.
Whilst I would obviously rather not be doing this, I am finding that I can cope with the side effects quite well. So my new normal isn't really all that bad.
Saturday, 27 August 2016
Saturday, 13 August 2016
General Gripes and Major Moans
Firstly the caveat.
These are my opinions, I am fully aware that not everyone shares my opinions. Further, I am also aware that people find dealing with people with cancer as difficult as dealing with the bereaved. They hope that they are saying the "right" thing.
I am not brave, I have incurable cancer. I am not fighting anything, I have incurable cancer. I do not necessarily have a positive attitude, I have incurable cancer.
I go to the hospital and am treated with the best that medical science and the NHS can provide. I am an unwilling, but grateful participant in the joys that are cancer treatment.
I do not need to be wished good luck when I go for the innumerable scans. I need good science. If anything it is the technicians who need the luck in finding my last remaining usable vein.
I also do not need to be wished good luck when I see the oncologist for the results of my scans. It's way too late by then.
I realise that all of the above makes me seem like an ungrateful curmudgeon and in some respects I am. It's not that I am ungrateful for people's good wishes, I just get a little fed up with being told how brave I am, that I will fight the good fight, that I will get better, in spite of the fact that I have incurable cancer.
I think what I would like is for people to realise that platitudes, for that is what they are, can be very annoying. What I am going through is a (hopefully) long, hard slog. It is tedious, and mentally and physically draining. The rest of my life will be lived in 3 weekly segments, punctuated with 4 monthly scans. I hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
I am more than happy to talk to you about what I am going through. If you ask me how I am, I will tell you in glorious technicoloured detail.
If you want to know what the "right" thing is to say, talk to me like a normal human being, not a cancer victim.
My general attitude to life is, shit happens, deal with it.
These are my opinions, I am fully aware that not everyone shares my opinions. Further, I am also aware that people find dealing with people with cancer as difficult as dealing with the bereaved. They hope that they are saying the "right" thing.
I am not brave, I have incurable cancer. I am not fighting anything, I have incurable cancer. I do not necessarily have a positive attitude, I have incurable cancer.
I go to the hospital and am treated with the best that medical science and the NHS can provide. I am an unwilling, but grateful participant in the joys that are cancer treatment.
I do not need to be wished good luck when I go for the innumerable scans. I need good science. If anything it is the technicians who need the luck in finding my last remaining usable vein.
I also do not need to be wished good luck when I see the oncologist for the results of my scans. It's way too late by then.
I realise that all of the above makes me seem like an ungrateful curmudgeon and in some respects I am. It's not that I am ungrateful for people's good wishes, I just get a little fed up with being told how brave I am, that I will fight the good fight, that I will get better, in spite of the fact that I have incurable cancer.
I think what I would like is for people to realise that platitudes, for that is what they are, can be very annoying. What I am going through is a (hopefully) long, hard slog. It is tedious, and mentally and physically draining. The rest of my life will be lived in 3 weekly segments, punctuated with 4 monthly scans. I hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
I am more than happy to talk to you about what I am going through. If you ask me how I am, I will tell you in glorious technicoloured detail.
If you want to know what the "right" thing is to say, talk to me like a normal human being, not a cancer victim.
My general attitude to life is, shit happens, deal with it.
Tuesday, 2 August 2016
Counting My Blessings
I belong to a couple of forums for those unfortunate enough to have secondary breast cancer. They are thought provoking places to visit.
They have interesting information about our condition and the various treatments. A place to compare and contrast.
The more I read, the more I realise that under the circumstances I'm not doing too badly. As I have said before I don't especially like playing the Pollyanna "Glad Game", but at times it's hard not count my blessings.
Firstly I was not fobbed off by my GP when I went about my back pain. Many are with disastrous results. This meant that the spread of the cancer is not as bad as it could have been. The medical staff at my hospital are without exception brilliant, something that I would expect at all hospitals, but I have discovered this is not necessarily always the case. The nurses and technicians listen when I point out where my last surviving vein is, rather than disregarding my experience and ferreting about for another unusable one. My oncologist treats me and my husband as the intelligent human beings that we are. This is also not always the case, indeed some oncologists don't even look at their patients when they are talking to them, let alone keep them fully informed. I have also "won" the postcode lottery as the treatment I am receiving is not available everywhere. All of this before I have even got on to the joys of the side effects. It is difficult to separate out what is caused by the treatment and what is caused by the cancer but it really doesn't matter when you are being afflicted by them. I have not had any nausea, my delightfully overactive bowels, which is a very common side effect, have eased up, my general aches and pains are easily controlled with painkillers, and whilst I am by no stretch of the imagination sailing through this, I can see that I am having a much easier time of it than most.
My friends and relations have been and are being lovely. By and large they are treating me as they always have, rather than with the sympathetic head tilt "how are you?", which makes my life delightfully ordinary. So far none of them has got bored with the fact that I am not dying. If this sounds surprising then it is because there are people out there who assume that because their friend who has incurable cancer is still around then they must be faking it. Clearly some people just aren't dying quickly enough!
They have interesting information about our condition and the various treatments. A place to compare and contrast.
The more I read, the more I realise that under the circumstances I'm not doing too badly. As I have said before I don't especially like playing the Pollyanna "Glad Game", but at times it's hard not count my blessings.
Firstly I was not fobbed off by my GP when I went about my back pain. Many are with disastrous results. This meant that the spread of the cancer is not as bad as it could have been. The medical staff at my hospital are without exception brilliant, something that I would expect at all hospitals, but I have discovered this is not necessarily always the case. The nurses and technicians listen when I point out where my last surviving vein is, rather than disregarding my experience and ferreting about for another unusable one. My oncologist treats me and my husband as the intelligent human beings that we are. This is also not always the case, indeed some oncologists don't even look at their patients when they are talking to them, let alone keep them fully informed. I have also "won" the postcode lottery as the treatment I am receiving is not available everywhere. All of this before I have even got on to the joys of the side effects. It is difficult to separate out what is caused by the treatment and what is caused by the cancer but it really doesn't matter when you are being afflicted by them. I have not had any nausea, my delightfully overactive bowels, which is a very common side effect, have eased up, my general aches and pains are easily controlled with painkillers, and whilst I am by no stretch of the imagination sailing through this, I can see that I am having a much easier time of it than most.
My friends and relations have been and are being lovely. By and large they are treating me as they always have, rather than with the sympathetic head tilt "how are you?", which makes my life delightfully ordinary. So far none of them has got bored with the fact that I am not dying. If this sounds surprising then it is because there are people out there who assume that because their friend who has incurable cancer is still around then they must be faking it. Clearly some people just aren't dying quickly enough!
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