Half Life – 59 – mad med week
December 17th, 2021
The inevitable conspiracy of road engineers added to the mess made of our plans for Tuesday, sending us on a last minute and unexpected detour to get to the distant clinic we’d been sent to. The first knock back had come late the evening before, as The Wife and I sat downstairs with The Boys upstairs avoiding anything we were interested in watching, when we were informed that the more important, and more interesting, of the two scheduled scans (the bone scan) had been cancelled. The reason for the trip and its nasty early start had been halved.
It’s not often that you look forward to a day visiting clinics or hospitals, but this one I was keen on. It was meant to give some indication as to whether Nobby was being damaged by all the stuff being chucked at him. Blood tests, taken the day before, would complete the picture, allowing decisions to be made as to whether to carry on or not.
Getting on with the only scan of the day, the pink and vibrant cherry blossom stared down at me as I lay back on the cramped and hard scanner bed, struggling to get my head into a comfortable position. Designed to provide something more interesting to look at other than the usual white ceiling tiles, they could have done with a clean and a few more than six would have enhanced the experience. The huge donut shaped machine, waiting to pull me in and photograph me while liquid is pumped into my arm, was spotless and looked new. As the final adjustments were completed, the nurse pushed the start button on the automatic pump, and it exploded! Sticky liquid intended for my veins, so the scanner can see better, sprayed everywhere. Before she could stop it, the shiny scanner, the floor, the cherry blossom tiles, my hair, clothes, arms, and face were thoroughly splattered. Mild panic ensued until it was discovered the problem was a faulty connection on the machine, not my veins getting their revenge on the medical establishment. Cleaning up was accompanied with endless apologising, although I would be picking small dried lumps from my hair for the rest of the day. A second attempt saw me dunked in and out of the donut successfully, and the pictures of my insides duly delivered.
Optimism, which had been high at the start of the week, took another blow with a request to go back to a different clinic to re-do one of the blood tests; it was dangerously low and might prevent the chemo. As yet another needle went into an arm looking more and more like a World War One battlefield, we found out that the PSA had continued its gradual creep upwards. Prostate cancer aficionados know that PSA is a measure to be taken with caution, in particular during treatments, but the on-going increase is a punch to the guts as the hope is it will reduce. Despite the tests, we decided to carry on with the chemo (and the trial) and review again in the New Year.
Heading into the fourth chemo dose with trepidation, knowing what to expect, the journey carries on in hope. Maybe Christmas cheer, lousy films, and annoying repetitive songs will drive Nobby back a bit. If I get the urge, I’ll bombard him with a glass or two of sweet wine, adding to the chemical cocktail washing through my body and keep him guessing. The scan showed stability in the tumours but not a reduction, which is good news but not the best there could be. If we ever manage to do the bone scan we might get a clearer picture. Grabbing the small wins when they happen, the canula this time went in easily and mostly painlessly. When you are drilled with as many small needles as I am, the significance cannot be understated.
Brightening a week in need of serious cheering up was the Christmas tree, with its colourful chaos of decorations installed by The Boys. The mixture of classy looking balls and elegant wooden toys share space with the decorations they made at school when five or six, which are emotionally beautiful, impossible to throw away, but seem to migrate, late at night when no one is looking, to the back of the tree. Cards start to populate the shelves with the usual debate about whether they should all be electronic. Our desire to support the local Hospice (Katherine House Hospice) which has helped us so much, and may be the final walls and ceiling I stare at, took priority and we decided to buy cards from them this year. Wrapping presents, and boxing up those destined for other households, creates that comforting sense that comes from thinking about others and what they’d like.
The need for a proper Christmas and a real break is palpable not only in our house but all around. Not sure anyone will be able to cope well with the virus ruining another one. As the final, and pointless, last few days of school, trickle by, most of what The Boys are getting from it are new colds to share over the holidays. Decisions by some parents to simply give up early and keep their kids away to prioritise the holiday are understandable, although it means missing out on fun trips already booked. Not for some time has a weekend been looked forward to for so long, with the sense of a real break, longer sleeps, and some much needed down time. Might even let The Boys tuck into the huge tin of Quality Street while on the sofa watching telly with us, even if only as a way of enticing them to be in the same room as we are.
Sending much much love to you all, Charlie. Xxxxx
Love your stories and way you describe everything which to me is bitter sweet! Very best wishes for Christmas with sweets, wine and your family around you
Sue