I made the mistake of watching The C word again last night. I say mistake, but that's not taking anything away from the wonderful writing of Lisa Lynch or her fight to beat cancer. I've no doubt she's an absolute inspiration to a lot of people who either have had their own cancer battle or are going through it all now. It also takes nothing away from the always brilliant Sheridan Smith who was fabulous in the part as she is in every part she ever does. It just becomes a very personal drama when you watch it after your own cancer diagnosis. It frightened me and and inspired me in equal measures. My brother never watches anything concerning cancer since his own diagnosis. I remember texting him during Comic Relief once to see if he was watching one of the short films about a family struggling after the mother/wife had died. My brother told me he never watched anything like that any more because he'd got plenty of crap to occupy his mind without giving him further ideas or images to fill his head.
My husband, forever with his head in the sand, went to bed halfway through the C word. Seeing Lisa's husband and family come to terms with her diagnosis made me wonder just what my husband is thinking but one thing I know for sure is that he will not be thinking I will die one day and he will certainly not be thinking 'I should chat to her about this'!!!
Lisa made me laugh. She'd like that I think. She also made me cry. I wonder why the consultant said her brain tumour had shrunk and to have a break from treatment for a few months? One of those wait and see situations that I find myself in at the moment so it touched a raw nerve. I DO worry what will be the situation when I go back in what is now 2 and a half months. Oh yes, I'm counting the days. I've put it all to the back of my mind for most of the time but periodically I feel the panic wash over me and I'm back in the real world again worrying about everything.
I've met a couple of people online who also have cancer. They are from different forums but both a huge support. There is something about speaking to people who are in the same boat. They are the only ones who fully understand the trials and tribulations of it all. No matter what you say or how bad or mental any thoughts are they just accept it without telling you your going mad or to pull yourself together. In fact, they usually say, I've felt like that or I've done that. They make me feel normal.
As for Lisa, it's one of those situations like watching The Great Escape where no matter how often you watch, you hope Steve McQueen gets over the fence on that bloody motorbike. It's the same with Lisa, you hope the outcome is different for her even though you know it isn't. I'm glad the film doesn't show her in the hospice lying there waiting to die. The very best thing about The C Word is Lisa's zest for life. Yes her life was far too short and her family are struggling still (and always will) but what a mark she made on us in that short life and just how many people has she helped? Next time I open a bottle of wine Lisa Lynch I will raise a glass to you.
Wednesday, 30 August 2017
Thursday, 22 June 2017
Time To Reflect
I appreciate I haven't written anything on the blog for a few months. This isn't because I no longer have cancer in my life. It's always there on a daily basis, but I AM trying to have a year off because I fear what will happen when I go back in what is now 10 months time. Yes, I count off the days.
There is no doubt that life is better. I DO have lots of cancer free time. Silly things happen that bring it to the forefront quite regularly. I dozed off to sleep one afternoon last week and dreamt that my mobile was ringing. When I got to the phone it said 'cancer nurses" on the screen but when I answered the line had gone dead. I woke in an absolute panic and it upset me for days. It sounds really silly I know but the calls from the hospital and the cancer nurses always made my heart stop as the calls generally gave bad news. That part of it all is still clearly etched on my mind. I wouldn't wish that situation on anyone, the fear, worry and anxiety are very difficult to deal with.
Then there is the constant checking of toilet paper when I have been to the loo. This part will never go away I am sure of that but I tell myself it is a good thing because I will spot something early should there be a problem.
My life is still in limbo to a certain extent. Anyone who has not been through a similar situation would never understand what it can be like. I think once you have been told you have cancer, you are never quite the same again, your life definitely changes.
I'm not juicing carrots now. I'm not really juicing anything. I make fresh lemonade and orange juice a couple of times a week which uses around 20 pieces of fruit. I've read that oranges and lemons can cause cancer because of the sugar and also the acid. I've read that it can stop cancer too. The only reason I do it is because I still try to have more fruit and veg and sometimes the only way to get anywhere near 10 a day is to have some juice. I worry about the cancer connections to food but as almost everything you eat that has some sort of cancer connection so it's difficult to deal with. I'm still not having much red meat. I avoid processed meat but it's difficult not to have it at all particularly when we are invited to friends houses and they have cooked for us. I cook Sunday lunch for my family. That's the only time I actually buy either a joint of pork or beef. I probably have bacon about once a month and avoid sausage completely. As it is now bbq weather (and the AGA is off!) I will definitely be having a bit more red meat but it will only be seasonal while the weather is good! Where possible I try to stick to chicken and fish. 2 days a week I try to have vegetarian food. I cannot cut out chocolate which has been my downfall - well - all my life! Chocolate holds a big cancer connection due to sugar.
With all of this going on I haven't lost any weight but then, 10 pieces of fruit would be in excess of 500 calories and that's before eating anything else.
So my life goes on and I try to make the best of it. I dread the letter arriving asking me to go in for the next colonoscopy. It shouldn't arrive until next year meaning I can have a relatively good Christmas without having to worry too much. I guess once the new year is here it will bring with it more anxiety. I daren't even hope for this, but if nothing is found when I go back I will definitely be able to move on with my life. However, what happened to the 3 nodes that were found in my colon? I'm sure they won't have just disappeared and I feel concerned by what they could be doing. These were not mentioned at the last colonoscopy and I regret not asking about them as wondering if they are growing or not can consume me.
Generally, no one mentions cancer to me anymore. My family think everything is fine and my friends avoid talking about it so I go on in my own private little world with my own thoughts worries and anxieties. Fortunately, these bad times are not constant and I can deal with them and life really is quite good right now.
There is no doubt that life is better. I DO have lots of cancer free time. Silly things happen that bring it to the forefront quite regularly. I dozed off to sleep one afternoon last week and dreamt that my mobile was ringing. When I got to the phone it said 'cancer nurses" on the screen but when I answered the line had gone dead. I woke in an absolute panic and it upset me for days. It sounds really silly I know but the calls from the hospital and the cancer nurses always made my heart stop as the calls generally gave bad news. That part of it all is still clearly etched on my mind. I wouldn't wish that situation on anyone, the fear, worry and anxiety are very difficult to deal with.
Then there is the constant checking of toilet paper when I have been to the loo. This part will never go away I am sure of that but I tell myself it is a good thing because I will spot something early should there be a problem.
My life is still in limbo to a certain extent. Anyone who has not been through a similar situation would never understand what it can be like. I think once you have been told you have cancer, you are never quite the same again, your life definitely changes.
I'm not juicing carrots now. I'm not really juicing anything. I make fresh lemonade and orange juice a couple of times a week which uses around 20 pieces of fruit. I've read that oranges and lemons can cause cancer because of the sugar and also the acid. I've read that it can stop cancer too. The only reason I do it is because I still try to have more fruit and veg and sometimes the only way to get anywhere near 10 a day is to have some juice. I worry about the cancer connections to food but as almost everything you eat that has some sort of cancer connection so it's difficult to deal with. I'm still not having much red meat. I avoid processed meat but it's difficult not to have it at all particularly when we are invited to friends houses and they have cooked for us. I cook Sunday lunch for my family. That's the only time I actually buy either a joint of pork or beef. I probably have bacon about once a month and avoid sausage completely. As it is now bbq weather (and the AGA is off!) I will definitely be having a bit more red meat but it will only be seasonal while the weather is good! Where possible I try to stick to chicken and fish. 2 days a week I try to have vegetarian food. I cannot cut out chocolate which has been my downfall - well - all my life! Chocolate holds a big cancer connection due to sugar.
With all of this going on I haven't lost any weight but then, 10 pieces of fruit would be in excess of 500 calories and that's before eating anything else.
So my life goes on and I try to make the best of it. I dread the letter arriving asking me to go in for the next colonoscopy. It shouldn't arrive until next year meaning I can have a relatively good Christmas without having to worry too much. I guess once the new year is here it will bring with it more anxiety. I daren't even hope for this, but if nothing is found when I go back I will definitely be able to move on with my life. However, what happened to the 3 nodes that were found in my colon? I'm sure they won't have just disappeared and I feel concerned by what they could be doing. These were not mentioned at the last colonoscopy and I regret not asking about them as wondering if they are growing or not can consume me.
Generally, no one mentions cancer to me anymore. My family think everything is fine and my friends avoid talking about it so I go on in my own private little world with my own thoughts worries and anxieties. Fortunately, these bad times are not constant and I can deal with them and life really is quite good right now.
Friday, 14 April 2017
Sigmoidoscopy
I had built myself up in to a right old state for the colonoscopy I had this week. In fact, had I read the letter properly when it came from the hospital I would have known I was having a sigmoidoscopy and not a colonoscopy. I would have also known that the top man himself was going to do the procedure so I'm glad I didn't see this until the night before because I would have assumed he was concerned about something he had seen on my MRI scans and wanted to check for himself. I also didn't know the appointment was at a completely different hospital so it's a good job I took the trouble to look.
A sigmoidoscopy is not as bad as a colonoscopy in my opinion. However, the last one I had was nevertheless painful and I wasn't looking forward to it.
I had started to drink the prep the night before as instructed. I can actually just about stomach the taste, it's not great but I manage. That is until the last glass.. by then my gag reflex kicks in and I struggle to keep it all down.
The whole process is a struggle. The fact that the constant trips to the loo keep you from leaving the house for the best part of 24 hours is hard work. It's not that you can go for a walk or go out in the car to help take your mind off the procedure the next day, you are just stuck in the loo with your thoughts. Added to that, no food for 24 hours (or more) and the fact that the constant trips to the loo are actually quite exhausting, it doesn't make for a great experience and the huger and weakness are unpleasant.
The following morning at 6AM I had to take the second lot of Prep.
I'd recommend that anyone having either the sigmoidoscopy or colonoscopy use vaseline or sudocrem on their backside before taking the first Prep and to continue using it after every toilet visit thereafter. I had read this advice online but didn't bother to follow it for my first procedure back in October. Needless to say, my bottom was so sore I could barely even wipe it after a few hours because the stinging and soreness had gone through the roof.
The magic eye used in the procedures hurt when inserted but only because of the sore bottom. I have the added joyfulness of having piles which had inflamed with all the toilet visits and they too were painful. The stinging sensation from soap was like vinegar in the eye. It stung a lot. No doubt everyone's experiences will be different though.
The actual procedure this time was all but painless. I've read about other people's experiences where they have said they had little or no pain but I couldn't believe it after the excruciating pain I had with my first colonoscopy and I certainly had far more pain with the previous sigmoidoscopy. I assume now that this is down to the person doing the procedure. I chatted to the nurses all the way through and I couldn't have done that before. The pain previously has been like giving birth and the only words I could have spat our would have been swear words. They offer gas and air and a sedative but I had neither on this occasion.. as mentioned in previous posts, the sedative doesn't work on me and I was too afraid to have gas and air because I behave like a drunk teenager and swear an awful lot.
The oncologist would never know how his warm words calmed me but I'm grateful to him for them "how are you my lovely".. During the procedure, he struggled to find the site where the cancerous polyp had been removed from. He eventually found something that he assumed must be it as there was a lack of anything else that could be an option. There were no cancerous spores. I was too afraid to be happy at this information initially because I didn't know what else they were looking for. No mention was made of the three lymph nodes that were found on the MRI back in February and I didn't feel able to ask about them. I don't have to go back for 12 months. This was the best I could have ever hoped for. I'm sure anyone having the same problems as me would grab at the chance of having a cancerous polyp removed and there being no sign of cancer 3 months later. I don't know whether there will be any sign of it in 12 months, no one could possibly know. I'd like to say that I feel wonderful but I don't. I am happy, of course I am but the whole ordeal lives on in my mind and I wake up in a cold sweat, I get night terrors and I'm struggling to get rid of the cancer diagnosis in my mind. I'm sure it will pass. I hope it does.
A sigmoidoscopy is not as bad as a colonoscopy in my opinion. However, the last one I had was nevertheless painful and I wasn't looking forward to it.
I had started to drink the prep the night before as instructed. I can actually just about stomach the taste, it's not great but I manage. That is until the last glass.. by then my gag reflex kicks in and I struggle to keep it all down.
The whole process is a struggle. The fact that the constant trips to the loo keep you from leaving the house for the best part of 24 hours is hard work. It's not that you can go for a walk or go out in the car to help take your mind off the procedure the next day, you are just stuck in the loo with your thoughts. Added to that, no food for 24 hours (or more) and the fact that the constant trips to the loo are actually quite exhausting, it doesn't make for a great experience and the huger and weakness are unpleasant.
The following morning at 6AM I had to take the second lot of Prep.
I'd recommend that anyone having either the sigmoidoscopy or colonoscopy use vaseline or sudocrem on their backside before taking the first Prep and to continue using it after every toilet visit thereafter. I had read this advice online but didn't bother to follow it for my first procedure back in October. Needless to say, my bottom was so sore I could barely even wipe it after a few hours because the stinging and soreness had gone through the roof.
The magic eye used in the procedures hurt when inserted but only because of the sore bottom. I have the added joyfulness of having piles which had inflamed with all the toilet visits and they too were painful. The stinging sensation from soap was like vinegar in the eye. It stung a lot. No doubt everyone's experiences will be different though.
The actual procedure this time was all but painless. I've read about other people's experiences where they have said they had little or no pain but I couldn't believe it after the excruciating pain I had with my first colonoscopy and I certainly had far more pain with the previous sigmoidoscopy. I assume now that this is down to the person doing the procedure. I chatted to the nurses all the way through and I couldn't have done that before. The pain previously has been like giving birth and the only words I could have spat our would have been swear words. They offer gas and air and a sedative but I had neither on this occasion.. as mentioned in previous posts, the sedative doesn't work on me and I was too afraid to have gas and air because I behave like a drunk teenager and swear an awful lot.
The oncologist would never know how his warm words calmed me but I'm grateful to him for them "how are you my lovely".. During the procedure, he struggled to find the site where the cancerous polyp had been removed from. He eventually found something that he assumed must be it as there was a lack of anything else that could be an option. There were no cancerous spores. I was too afraid to be happy at this information initially because I didn't know what else they were looking for. No mention was made of the three lymph nodes that were found on the MRI back in February and I didn't feel able to ask about them. I don't have to go back for 12 months. This was the best I could have ever hoped for. I'm sure anyone having the same problems as me would grab at the chance of having a cancerous polyp removed and there being no sign of cancer 3 months later. I don't know whether there will be any sign of it in 12 months, no one could possibly know. I'd like to say that I feel wonderful but I don't. I am happy, of course I am but the whole ordeal lives on in my mind and I wake up in a cold sweat, I get night terrors and I'm struggling to get rid of the cancer diagnosis in my mind. I'm sure it will pass. I hope it does.
Tuesday, 4 April 2017
Horses and Cannabis
Well I feel shitter than the shittest of shit things. It's totally not cancer related. In some ways I wish it was because I can probably deal with it better than I can deal with animal cruelty.
There are some horses a mile or so from us that seem to look more neglected by the day. Animals are my *thing*. I love them. Since moving to Wales the one thing I have been unable to cope with is the amount of neglected horses.
I've been a moody cow since last week. That IS cancer related. Well, the 'worry of cancer' related at least. It's knocked me sideways being asked to go back for a colonoscopy so quickly. I'm not in the best frame of mind. Needless to say, I've made my husband's life a misery by being snappy and I've been weepy. I haven't cried about cancer, but I've cried about everything else. As I've said before, I'm a cryer....it's one of my main hobbies.
The horse situation came to a head about 2 weeks ago. They are in a field but they are often neglected. Over the winter, the odd bale of silage has appeared complete with tight plastic covering which the horses have had to bite off to get at the food. They have got thinner and thinner. The plastic is strewn all over the field from every bale of silage they have had over the past 6 years, there is no grass. I bought a bag of pony nuts to feed the horses but I'm always a bit wary of bumping into the owner and being told off. I've heard he is not to be messed with so I'd rather not bloody mess with him quite frankly. I was also told by a horse charity that the RSPCA will not consider it urgent if the horses are being fed, even if they are being fed by concerned individuals and not the owner.
I took carrots last week (the ones I've stopped juicing!). One of the horses took to lying down a lot and I feared it wasn't well. I thought it may have eaten some of the plastic. Today, I have taken them pony nuts and when one of the other horses pushed the 'sick' pony away, it fell over and couldn't get back up it was so weak. It made an awful noise as it hit the floor. I can't get the sound out of my mind. It was so upsetting and I just couldn't stop crying. I decided I couldn't watch and hope someone else would get involved any longer and I rang a horse welfare organisation. They were closed so I left a message for them to call me back tomorrow. On driving back past the horses, we pulled over to see if the sick pony was OK and a woman approached the car with 'RSPCA' on her jacket. The cavalry! Yes, I thought, someone has got more balls than me and has reported it. She asked if they were our horses. I couldn't have been more offended if she had rubbed horse shite in my face. I started to tell her of the horses plight but her phone rang, a vet apparently, and she had to dash off.
The sick pony has now been taken from the field. I'm relieved. The other three remain. I'm gutted. I've since been told that the owner was on TV having been prosecuted for leaving horses in a barn to starve to death. So this is it boys, this is war. That's the last time I wait and see if someone else has stood up for the horses. I support a local horse charity and I contacted them last week. Initially they didn't seem too concerned but I've told them of today's events and they have said that now that the horses are on the radar, none of this will happen again as they will monitor it. Believe it or not, you can buy a horse these day for £5. People buy them and then cannot afford to feed them and so they end up in the most miserable situation. They deserve so much better than my tears.
I've asked so many people about the horses that I fully expect the angry owner knocking on my door at some point. He's way down on the list of things bothering me right now.
I think I've got anxiety. It's a self diagnosis, well, not quite, it was with the help of Jeremy Vine and his radio 2 show yesterday! I've previously thought I was just a bit mad but after hearing people describe their anxiety symptoms, I realised that I have most, if not all of them. This became more apparent today when my husband was trying to park between two cars on the supermarket car park and I almost had a nervous breakdown. I cried again. It was probably the worst anxiety I have felt and it was over something and nothing. People on the radio were saying they had taken cannabis to help with the symptoms but the doctor on the show said it was a bad idea as it makes you anxious. I've never smoked and I would worry about cannabis side effects. I knew someone who grew some in the garden once and her rabbit ate it. She couldn't take the rabbit to the vets for fear of the police finding out (I'm going back about 30 years when it wasn't as tolerated as now) so the rabbit spent 2 days rolling around the garden like Dylan from the Magic Roundabout.
Years ago we lived quite close to some Hells Angels. I know, I paint a very idyllic picture! They invited us round to a bonfire party they threw for the local community every year. I looked after elderly people at the time and they told us to take some of them along, which we did. Upon arrival, we were told not to let the older people have the stew. It had cannabis in it. They could have the jacket potatoes and any of the other food available. Unfortunately, the old dears didn't listen to me saying not to have the stew and ladled it into dishes. I don't know how we got them home. Fortunately, it seemed to do them some good as they all said they hadn't had such a good night's sleep in years.
There are some horses a mile or so from us that seem to look more neglected by the day. Animals are my *thing*. I love them. Since moving to Wales the one thing I have been unable to cope with is the amount of neglected horses.
I've been a moody cow since last week. That IS cancer related. Well, the 'worry of cancer' related at least. It's knocked me sideways being asked to go back for a colonoscopy so quickly. I'm not in the best frame of mind. Needless to say, I've made my husband's life a misery by being snappy and I've been weepy. I haven't cried about cancer, but I've cried about everything else. As I've said before, I'm a cryer....it's one of my main hobbies.
The horse situation came to a head about 2 weeks ago. They are in a field but they are often neglected. Over the winter, the odd bale of silage has appeared complete with tight plastic covering which the horses have had to bite off to get at the food. They have got thinner and thinner. The plastic is strewn all over the field from every bale of silage they have had over the past 6 years, there is no grass. I bought a bag of pony nuts to feed the horses but I'm always a bit wary of bumping into the owner and being told off. I've heard he is not to be messed with so I'd rather not bloody mess with him quite frankly. I was also told by a horse charity that the RSPCA will not consider it urgent if the horses are being fed, even if they are being fed by concerned individuals and not the owner.
I took carrots last week (the ones I've stopped juicing!). One of the horses took to lying down a lot and I feared it wasn't well. I thought it may have eaten some of the plastic. Today, I have taken them pony nuts and when one of the other horses pushed the 'sick' pony away, it fell over and couldn't get back up it was so weak. It made an awful noise as it hit the floor. I can't get the sound out of my mind. It was so upsetting and I just couldn't stop crying. I decided I couldn't watch and hope someone else would get involved any longer and I rang a horse welfare organisation. They were closed so I left a message for them to call me back tomorrow. On driving back past the horses, we pulled over to see if the sick pony was OK and a woman approached the car with 'RSPCA' on her jacket. The cavalry! Yes, I thought, someone has got more balls than me and has reported it. She asked if they were our horses. I couldn't have been more offended if she had rubbed horse shite in my face. I started to tell her of the horses plight but her phone rang, a vet apparently, and she had to dash off.
The sick pony has now been taken from the field. I'm relieved. The other three remain. I'm gutted. I've since been told that the owner was on TV having been prosecuted for leaving horses in a barn to starve to death. So this is it boys, this is war. That's the last time I wait and see if someone else has stood up for the horses. I support a local horse charity and I contacted them last week. Initially they didn't seem too concerned but I've told them of today's events and they have said that now that the horses are on the radar, none of this will happen again as they will monitor it. Believe it or not, you can buy a horse these day for £5. People buy them and then cannot afford to feed them and so they end up in the most miserable situation. They deserve so much better than my tears.
I've asked so many people about the horses that I fully expect the angry owner knocking on my door at some point. He's way down on the list of things bothering me right now.
I think I've got anxiety. It's a self diagnosis, well, not quite, it was with the help of Jeremy Vine and his radio 2 show yesterday! I've previously thought I was just a bit mad but after hearing people describe their anxiety symptoms, I realised that I have most, if not all of them. This became more apparent today when my husband was trying to park between two cars on the supermarket car park and I almost had a nervous breakdown. I cried again. It was probably the worst anxiety I have felt and it was over something and nothing. People on the radio were saying they had taken cannabis to help with the symptoms but the doctor on the show said it was a bad idea as it makes you anxious. I've never smoked and I would worry about cannabis side effects. I knew someone who grew some in the garden once and her rabbit ate it. She couldn't take the rabbit to the vets for fear of the police finding out (I'm going back about 30 years when it wasn't as tolerated as now) so the rabbit spent 2 days rolling around the garden like Dylan from the Magic Roundabout.
Years ago we lived quite close to some Hells Angels. I know, I paint a very idyllic picture! They invited us round to a bonfire party they threw for the local community every year. I looked after elderly people at the time and they told us to take some of them along, which we did. Upon arrival, we were told not to let the older people have the stew. It had cannabis in it. They could have the jacket potatoes and any of the other food available. Unfortunately, the old dears didn't listen to me saying not to have the stew and ladled it into dishes. I don't know how we got them home. Fortunately, it seemed to do them some good as they all said they hadn't had such a good night's sleep in years.
Saturday, 1 April 2017
Wigs
If I ever need a wig I won't have to go very far. I sell wigs and hairpieces for a living and have done so for 15 years. I've tried many on, usually when friends are here and we fall about laughing at how terrible we all look. I can't imagine wearing one but if the need arises I will have to.
My dad died 22 years ago. It was a huge shock. We were told he had cancer one Friday and he died the following Friday. I noticed more of my hair in the brush within weeks of his death but didn't link dad's death to my hair loss. After 3 months, my hair was looking quite fine and flyaway. I got some clip in extensions and managed to bulk out my hair. I've done this off and on ever since because the first sign of any stress sends my hair into free fall again! It's never got so bad I've needed a wig. Needless to say, my own hair loss problems lead me to start up my business.
My hair had recovered sufficiently a few years ago that I didn't need any help with it. That was until my husband was driving to work from our very rural barn and a local farmer shot at the car. My closest neighbour's wife came over to tell me that the car door has been blown off. I tried to ring my husband. The phone just went to answerphone and it continued to do that for the next 2 hours. I couldn't find out if he was alive or dead. I was also ringing my neighbours husband who had clearly drove up and was confronted by what had gone on, but he was cutting my calls off, so to say I was fearing the worst was an understatement. Eventually, my neighbour got her husband on the phone and he put my hubby on the phone to me. The farmer had obviously had some sort of breakdown. He was in the lane with a gun, my hubby had tried to get the gun off him. The farmer eventually killed himself. It was all very shocking. Needless to say, a few weeks later I noticed my hair coming out again and it's never really fully recovered this time. I also got psoriasis which my GP put down the the same event. Incidentally, the door of the car was not blown off. It had bullet holes in it though but hubby wasn't hurt.
Wigs today are fantastic. They are nothing like the ones you see the old ladies wearing in the checkout at Sainsburys! Believe me, I've been behind some people wearing a wig and it looks like a bird has tried to make a nest out of it but this gives wigs a bad name because I can't even tell sometimes if someone is wearing a wig or not.
Usually, people who have never worn a wig and find themselves in need of one will ring up and say they want a human hair wig. Everyone thinks that human hair wigs will be far more realistic and look like their own hair but this really isn't the case. Human hair wigs are notoriously difficult to deal with and once washed, they are a nightmare to get back into style. The wig won't stay on the head to be blow dried and unless customers have a hairdresser they can rely on to do it for them or they are very good with their own hair, I'd avoid them quite honestly.
One of my customers went into hospital for a hysterectomy and decided to wear her wig for the op. She woke up with it on her face! Another customer went in the sea with hers on and watched as a wave washed it clean off her head and took it away into the distance. The good news is that these stories are few and far between The customers are able to laugh about it eventually!
Fortunately, these days there are wigs for everyones taste. They even do some now that are measured to the head and made in such a way they suction on to the scalp which means you CAN go swimming without fear the wig will come off. And if someone really doesn't want to wear wigs (and they are not for everyone) there are some amazing scarves, hats and turbans. You can even get fringes to put under the hats and scarves to give the illusion that there is some hair there.
As you can imagine I've spoken to lots of people having cancer treatment over the years. Some stick in my mind. One was quite early on and the reason I remember it so well was that the customer was a young girl, only 21. I'll call her Sarah. She bought a few wigs off me and we always had a chat or she would email and let me know how she was. Sarah told me once that her dad had called round to her house during her cancer treatment and had lovingly put loads of daffodil bulbs and other spring flowers in the garden for her. He had said "you will be alive in the spring to see them all come through'. That one sentence has made me cry more than most things in my life. I've told other people about it and I've cried every time I've tried to repeat it and I've cried again now typing it. I bet her dad cried with every bulb he planted. The emails from Sarah eventually stopped and she didn't order from me again. I hoped she was well and didn't need any wigs but I often thought about her and wondered if she was OK. I feared the worst. Eventually it all got the better of me and I sent her an email not knowing what to expect. She replied with a photo attached of her on her wedding day looking absolutely stunning. She was a beautiful girl. In the photo she had one of my wigs on but she went on to explain that her own hair had grown now and she was cancer free.
Some thing make your heart sing.
My dad died 22 years ago. It was a huge shock. We were told he had cancer one Friday and he died the following Friday. I noticed more of my hair in the brush within weeks of his death but didn't link dad's death to my hair loss. After 3 months, my hair was looking quite fine and flyaway. I got some clip in extensions and managed to bulk out my hair. I've done this off and on ever since because the first sign of any stress sends my hair into free fall again! It's never got so bad I've needed a wig. Needless to say, my own hair loss problems lead me to start up my business.
My hair had recovered sufficiently a few years ago that I didn't need any help with it. That was until my husband was driving to work from our very rural barn and a local farmer shot at the car. My closest neighbour's wife came over to tell me that the car door has been blown off. I tried to ring my husband. The phone just went to answerphone and it continued to do that for the next 2 hours. I couldn't find out if he was alive or dead. I was also ringing my neighbours husband who had clearly drove up and was confronted by what had gone on, but he was cutting my calls off, so to say I was fearing the worst was an understatement. Eventually, my neighbour got her husband on the phone and he put my hubby on the phone to me. The farmer had obviously had some sort of breakdown. He was in the lane with a gun, my hubby had tried to get the gun off him. The farmer eventually killed himself. It was all very shocking. Needless to say, a few weeks later I noticed my hair coming out again and it's never really fully recovered this time. I also got psoriasis which my GP put down the the same event. Incidentally, the door of the car was not blown off. It had bullet holes in it though but hubby wasn't hurt.
Wigs today are fantastic. They are nothing like the ones you see the old ladies wearing in the checkout at Sainsburys! Believe me, I've been behind some people wearing a wig and it looks like a bird has tried to make a nest out of it but this gives wigs a bad name because I can't even tell sometimes if someone is wearing a wig or not.
Usually, people who have never worn a wig and find themselves in need of one will ring up and say they want a human hair wig. Everyone thinks that human hair wigs will be far more realistic and look like their own hair but this really isn't the case. Human hair wigs are notoriously difficult to deal with and once washed, they are a nightmare to get back into style. The wig won't stay on the head to be blow dried and unless customers have a hairdresser they can rely on to do it for them or they are very good with their own hair, I'd avoid them quite honestly.
One of my customers went into hospital for a hysterectomy and decided to wear her wig for the op. She woke up with it on her face! Another customer went in the sea with hers on and watched as a wave washed it clean off her head and took it away into the distance. The good news is that these stories are few and far between The customers are able to laugh about it eventually!
Fortunately, these days there are wigs for everyones taste. They even do some now that are measured to the head and made in such a way they suction on to the scalp which means you CAN go swimming without fear the wig will come off. And if someone really doesn't want to wear wigs (and they are not for everyone) there are some amazing scarves, hats and turbans. You can even get fringes to put under the hats and scarves to give the illusion that there is some hair there.
As you can imagine I've spoken to lots of people having cancer treatment over the years. Some stick in my mind. One was quite early on and the reason I remember it so well was that the customer was a young girl, only 21. I'll call her Sarah. She bought a few wigs off me and we always had a chat or she would email and let me know how she was. Sarah told me once that her dad had called round to her house during her cancer treatment and had lovingly put loads of daffodil bulbs and other spring flowers in the garden for her. He had said "you will be alive in the spring to see them all come through'. That one sentence has made me cry more than most things in my life. I've told other people about it and I've cried every time I've tried to repeat it and I've cried again now typing it. I bet her dad cried with every bulb he planted. The emails from Sarah eventually stopped and she didn't order from me again. I hoped she was well and didn't need any wigs but I often thought about her and wondered if she was OK. I feared the worst. Eventually it all got the better of me and I sent her an email not knowing what to expect. She replied with a photo attached of her on her wedding day looking absolutely stunning. She was a beautiful girl. In the photo she had one of my wigs on but she went on to explain that her own hair had grown now and she was cancer free.
Some thing make your heart sing.
Friday, 31 March 2017
Another Colonoscopy
I was happily enjoying my '3 month break' from seeing any consultants and not having and scans. At my last appointment in March the oncologist said we needed to 'wait and see' and that he would see me in 3 months. It was already March so 3 months meant it would be June before I would be called back in for a colonoscopy. I was starting to relax and enjoy those few months without having to worry about all the shit that's been going on.
I missed a phone call a few days ago. The call was withheld. When I noticed the missed call, my stomach did a huge, horrible flip because the only calls I get on my mobile that are withheld are from the hospital. What could they want? I tried to tell myself it could be a cold call but needless to say I worried about it all night. I couldn't ring back as I had no idea who had called or what department.
I didn't have long to wait. The following morning at 9 O clock the withheld call arrived again. It was the hospital wanting to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. I assumed they were ringing early for a June appointment but no, they wanted me to go in on Monday which was only 4 days away. The familiar panic started. Why? Had the oncologist looked at my scans and spotted something else? I explained to the receptionist that I had been told it would be 3 months before I was called in. She got a bit arsy and said she was only doing what the letter from my oncologist had said. I couldn't do Monday. Apart from anything else, I was a bit concerned that the Prep they send in the post wouldn't arrive on time. I explained I'd got pre arranged stuff I couldn't get out of on Sunday. She didn't like that either and in hindsight, I wish I had just taken the appointment. Instead, it was made for the following Monday.
I rang the cancer nurses as soon as I could thinking that a mistake had been made and they wold just take over and say they would cancel the appointment and not to worry. This wasn't the case though. They said they felt the reason I had been called in was because my last colonoscopy was in January meaning the three month appointment was actually April. The oncologist had definitely said 'see you in 3 months' so I couldn't accept this but I didn't say anything.
I'm already worried by it all. I actually think that the worry must get worse with each appointment. My ability to overthink things kicked in from the missed phone call and I've really been overthinking everything ever since. I'm not sure what a colonoscopy 6 weeks after an MRI will show.
My new found freedom didn't last very long.. I'm back on the treadmill.
I missed a phone call a few days ago. The call was withheld. When I noticed the missed call, my stomach did a huge, horrible flip because the only calls I get on my mobile that are withheld are from the hospital. What could they want? I tried to tell myself it could be a cold call but needless to say I worried about it all night. I couldn't ring back as I had no idea who had called or what department.
I didn't have long to wait. The following morning at 9 O clock the withheld call arrived again. It was the hospital wanting to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. I assumed they were ringing early for a June appointment but no, they wanted me to go in on Monday which was only 4 days away. The familiar panic started. Why? Had the oncologist looked at my scans and spotted something else? I explained to the receptionist that I had been told it would be 3 months before I was called in. She got a bit arsy and said she was only doing what the letter from my oncologist had said. I couldn't do Monday. Apart from anything else, I was a bit concerned that the Prep they send in the post wouldn't arrive on time. I explained I'd got pre arranged stuff I couldn't get out of on Sunday. She didn't like that either and in hindsight, I wish I had just taken the appointment. Instead, it was made for the following Monday.
I rang the cancer nurses as soon as I could thinking that a mistake had been made and they wold just take over and say they would cancel the appointment and not to worry. This wasn't the case though. They said they felt the reason I had been called in was because my last colonoscopy was in January meaning the three month appointment was actually April. The oncologist had definitely said 'see you in 3 months' so I couldn't accept this but I didn't say anything.
I'm already worried by it all. I actually think that the worry must get worse with each appointment. My ability to overthink things kicked in from the missed phone call and I've really been overthinking everything ever since. I'm not sure what a colonoscopy 6 weeks after an MRI will show.
My new found freedom didn't last very long.. I'm back on the treadmill.
Tuesday, 28 March 2017
Spring
This lovely weather has brought with it a renewed reason to feel happy to be alive. Like just about everyone in the country, the worst day of the year for me is the day the clocks go back. It's so depressing. I try and enjoy every season regardless of how many hours there are in the day but I think living in the country really brought home to me just how short the days are and how dark the nights can be. When we did our escape to the country we found out very quickly that no one goes anywhere without a torch (or wellies)! Early on after our move we stumbled home from a friends house at 3 in the morning and completely lost our bearings. Yes, drink was involved but having no street lights and it being a moonless night with all the cloud, it was impossible to follow the dirt tracks. The following day we bought torches and didn't go out of the house at night again without them. A friends husband bought her a head torch for Christmas one year (I know!) We were walking down the lane together with said torch and she nearly blinding me every time she turned to talk and the thing kept slipping further into her eyes. It may not seem funny now, but we fell about laughing. Yes drink was involved. Needless to say, we all got a head torch! Brilliant invention! This actually reminds me of another occasion when everyone came back to our house from a night at the pub. It was about midnight I guess. We were missing one of the husbands for about an hour. Eventually he turned up and apologised for being late but explained he had been having an egg and spoon race with some guests who were staying at the pub. Random. :)
We took our VW camper van out for the first time this year yesterday. He's a hansom fella and I love it when people smile and wave. There is no question that sun, sea, sand and camper van are bessie mates.
The sun has also brought with it visitors to our garden., human and animal. If anyone sees you sitting outside, they just come over and sit outside with you. Yes, drink is involved.
We get badgers in the garden. Last year they bought their babies with them. It was quite joyous to watch.
It's not all been sunshine and socialising. One of my online friends didn't email for well over a week and I was a little concerned that all was not well. I DID go through the usual stuff of thinking I'd said something wrong so eventually I sent a little message asking if everything was OK. She wasn't OK. A young girl from a cancer forum they were both on had died. She was 30. I didn't know her at all but my friend did and it had knocked her for six. I lay awake thinking about Lea the girl that died. I don't know why but it bothered me. She was only diagnosed with bowel cancer last October and she died on her birthday last week. Regardless of not knowing her, the story was bleak enough to cause me a sleepless night. Cancer is such a bastard.
We took our VW camper van out for the first time this year yesterday. He's a hansom fella and I love it when people smile and wave. There is no question that sun, sea, sand and camper van are bessie mates.
The sun has also brought with it visitors to our garden., human and animal. If anyone sees you sitting outside, they just come over and sit outside with you. Yes, drink is involved.
We get badgers in the garden. Last year they bought their babies with them. It was quite joyous to watch.
It's not all been sunshine and socialising. One of my online friends didn't email for well over a week and I was a little concerned that all was not well. I DID go through the usual stuff of thinking I'd said something wrong so eventually I sent a little message asking if everything was OK. She wasn't OK. A young girl from a cancer forum they were both on had died. She was 30. I didn't know her at all but my friend did and it had knocked her for six. I lay awake thinking about Lea the girl that died. I don't know why but it bothered me. She was only diagnosed with bowel cancer last October and she died on her birthday last week. Regardless of not knowing her, the story was bleak enough to cause me a sleepless night. Cancer is such a bastard.
Friday, 10 March 2017
Juicing Fights Back
One of the worst things about me (and there are many) is that I have allergies and reactions to just about everything. For instance, dental block doesn't work on me, I have to have enough to knock out an elephant before the gum is properly frozen. As for pills and potions, there's hardly anything that doesn't cause me to have some sort of reaction. 8 years on and my GP is still trying to find a blood pressure pill that a) works on me and b) doesn't make me ill in the process.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find that carrot juicing isn't going too well. It's taken me about a week to realise that the really bad headaches I'm getting are probably related to juicing and also the IBS which flared up about 4 days ago and is getting steadily worse has been brought on by the carrots. This only occurred to me during the night when I was woken up with severe itching on the palms of my hands. I get this with most antibiotics but I don't think anything other than medication has ever caused it before. Whilst wondering what I'd taken to cause the itching it dawned on me that the only thing I have been doing in abundance is juicing. The penny dropped. Of course. It is causing the headaches and the IBS too. I googled it and found that yes indeed carrots can cause many problems including itching, stomach cramps and headaches. I had upped the amount of juice in the past 24 hours and it clearly made things even worse.
I'm not sure where I go from here. I can't even save my own life without issues. Can you imagine just what chemo and surgery is likely to do to me!!! I ended up in hospital after being prescribed my first blood pressure tablet. I was so ill I thought I was having a heart attack. I was admitted to hospital and over the following 24 hours it transpired the blood pressure tablet was causing the problem. As soon as it was out of my system, the problem stopped.
Being inspired by a friend raving about her hot tub, I got one and for a few days loved using it. Within about 3 days my skin had reacted to the chemicals in the water and the tub had to go.
I can't wear anything metal. I get a sticky weeping wound.
Any type of false nail makes my fingers swell up and itch.
I can only wear the best quality make up and face creams. I'm an expensive accessory for my husband.
I can barely take any prescribed medication. Even the glue on the heart monitor pads brings me out in hives. I'm a poor specimen of a human being. My brother suffers the same (not with the false nails) and so did my dad. Having been bitten by a dog as a child, I was taken to hospital and asked if I had an allergy to penicillin. I don't but my dad did. Once told of this, I had to have two injections just in case I had a reaction. As it happened I DID have a reaction..it was from the Tenanus jab. It made my leg swell up like a whole slab of doner kebab meat. I was told never to have the Tetanus jab again. I'm assuming if I get bitten by a dog I'll just have to suffer the lockjaw.
Carrots are currently off the menu.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find that carrot juicing isn't going too well. It's taken me about a week to realise that the really bad headaches I'm getting are probably related to juicing and also the IBS which flared up about 4 days ago and is getting steadily worse has been brought on by the carrots. This only occurred to me during the night when I was woken up with severe itching on the palms of my hands. I get this with most antibiotics but I don't think anything other than medication has ever caused it before. Whilst wondering what I'd taken to cause the itching it dawned on me that the only thing I have been doing in abundance is juicing. The penny dropped. Of course. It is causing the headaches and the IBS too. I googled it and found that yes indeed carrots can cause many problems including itching, stomach cramps and headaches. I had upped the amount of juice in the past 24 hours and it clearly made things even worse.
I'm not sure where I go from here. I can't even save my own life without issues. Can you imagine just what chemo and surgery is likely to do to me!!! I ended up in hospital after being prescribed my first blood pressure tablet. I was so ill I thought I was having a heart attack. I was admitted to hospital and over the following 24 hours it transpired the blood pressure tablet was causing the problem. As soon as it was out of my system, the problem stopped.
Being inspired by a friend raving about her hot tub, I got one and for a few days loved using it. Within about 3 days my skin had reacted to the chemicals in the water and the tub had to go.
I can't wear anything metal. I get a sticky weeping wound.
Any type of false nail makes my fingers swell up and itch.
I can only wear the best quality make up and face creams. I'm an expensive accessory for my husband.
I can barely take any prescribed medication. Even the glue on the heart monitor pads brings me out in hives. I'm a poor specimen of a human being. My brother suffers the same (not with the false nails) and so did my dad. Having been bitten by a dog as a child, I was taken to hospital and asked if I had an allergy to penicillin. I don't but my dad did. Once told of this, I had to have two injections just in case I had a reaction. As it happened I DID have a reaction..it was from the Tenanus jab. It made my leg swell up like a whole slab of doner kebab meat. I was told never to have the Tetanus jab again. I'm assuming if I get bitten by a dog I'll just have to suffer the lockjaw.
Carrots are currently off the menu.
Thursday, 9 March 2017
Under Surveillance
I'm going under surveillance. I'm not sure if this involves me wearing a cream mac and a trilby and following unscrupulous people around or if someone is going to follow me home and park up outside my house watching everything I do. If it's the latter they will be very bored.
I spoke to one of the cancer nurses yesterday and so my very worst fears had been put on the back burner and I wasn't feeling quite so anxious about my appointment with the oncologist today. I'm not out of the woods but I do not need immediate surgery or chemo. Regardless of being told this, I still had the worst nights sleep and tortured myself that the nurse could have mixed up my scan results. If any author is looking for some wild ideas for plot lines, I'm your woman. The things I can make up are alarmingly shocking!
The oncologist threw me a curve ball I wasn't expecting today. He said he had two options. One was to crack me open and remove my bowel leaving me with a Bag For Life or he could leave it for 3 months, send me for another colonoscopy (can't wait) and review it all then. I hope the delay of 3 months doesn't mean that after that time I will need the surgery anyway. The good news is that the site where the cancerous polyp was removed appears cancer free. There COULD be a tiny amount left but if so it is so small it is undetectable at the moment. I have 3 nodes. They too are small and need watching. If I had been told this would be the outcome last week I would have grabbed it with both hands but today I'm worrying what three months will bring, of course I am, I worry about what to cook for dinner so I'm hardly going to let this pass by without some sort of drama.
So I'm relying on the carrots to do their best at shrinking these nodes.
I'll keep you posted.
I spoke to one of the cancer nurses yesterday and so my very worst fears had been put on the back burner and I wasn't feeling quite so anxious about my appointment with the oncologist today. I'm not out of the woods but I do not need immediate surgery or chemo. Regardless of being told this, I still had the worst nights sleep and tortured myself that the nurse could have mixed up my scan results. If any author is looking for some wild ideas for plot lines, I'm your woman. The things I can make up are alarmingly shocking!
The oncologist threw me a curve ball I wasn't expecting today. He said he had two options. One was to crack me open and remove my bowel leaving me with a Bag For Life or he could leave it for 3 months, send me for another colonoscopy (can't wait) and review it all then. I hope the delay of 3 months doesn't mean that after that time I will need the surgery anyway. The good news is that the site where the cancerous polyp was removed appears cancer free. There COULD be a tiny amount left but if so it is so small it is undetectable at the moment. I have 3 nodes. They too are small and need watching. If I had been told this would be the outcome last week I would have grabbed it with both hands but today I'm worrying what three months will bring, of course I am, I worry about what to cook for dinner so I'm hardly going to let this pass by without some sort of drama.
So I'm relying on the carrots to do their best at shrinking these nodes.
I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, 8 March 2017
Worrying
I've never stopped worrying since I first saw blood in my poo. Admittedly, some worry is far worse than other worry but worrying goes with the territory of either thinking you could have cancer or being told you have cancer. It's hard to deal with. Waiting causes severe worry and then when you are no longer waiting, you worry again.
I finally got the phone call today from my oncologist's secretary. She's always very to the point. He wants to see me at 9AM tomorrow. She won't answer any other questions, 'I'm only his secretary, I can't answer medical questions'.
So what does this mean. Well for me, it means that, as I've never had a phone call from them as early as 11.30AM before, I am thinking that mine must be the most serious case and the consultant wants to see me first. Nothing anyone says will make me think differently. They fact that I'm first in the following morning has sent me into a huge panic.
Is the waiting now over I wonder. Will I go in tomorrow and be told I have to have surgery the following week or will they say they will let me know and I end up hanging around again. I really don't know what will happen but that won't stop me thinking what might happen. I don't know what to expect tomorrow. I don't know how good or bad things will be but I'm braced for the worst with my glass half empty as always.
It's been 3 weeks since the MRI scan. It seems like months. I wonder if they know jus how terrible it all is for the patients who have to endure waiting to hear. They actually tell you the waiting is the worst but I'm sure they have absolutely no concept what so ever of what that wait is actually like.
I'll know my fate tomorrow. I'm glad to get to this point but I still don't want to hear the news.
I finally got the phone call today from my oncologist's secretary. She's always very to the point. He wants to see me at 9AM tomorrow. She won't answer any other questions, 'I'm only his secretary, I can't answer medical questions'.
So what does this mean. Well for me, it means that, as I've never had a phone call from them as early as 11.30AM before, I am thinking that mine must be the most serious case and the consultant wants to see me first. Nothing anyone says will make me think differently. They fact that I'm first in the following morning has sent me into a huge panic.
Is the waiting now over I wonder. Will I go in tomorrow and be told I have to have surgery the following week or will they say they will let me know and I end up hanging around again. I really don't know what will happen but that won't stop me thinking what might happen. I don't know what to expect tomorrow. I don't know how good or bad things will be but I'm braced for the worst with my glass half empty as always.
It's been 3 weeks since the MRI scan. It seems like months. I wonder if they know jus how terrible it all is for the patients who have to endure waiting to hear. They actually tell you the waiting is the worst but I'm sure they have absolutely no concept what so ever of what that wait is actually like.
I'll know my fate tomorrow. I'm glad to get to this point but I still don't want to hear the news.
Saturday, 4 March 2017
Carrot Juicing - The Facts
I've been juicing carrots as mentioned before. I've no idea how anyone can actually have the 5 - 6 pounds of carrot juice a day! It's quite difficult to get down but I guess if you think it might be a matter of living or dying it becomes much easier to drink!
I bought a juicer - it was around £100 but I think this is quite cheap for a juicer looking at some of the others. They can be over £300 and some are over £1000 - well sod that!
The £100 juicer started quite well other than there was an enormous amount of pulp floating on top of the juice. This was a bit unpleasant but I still drank it. I googled the *pulp* and read that this can happen with cheaper juicers. There is far less pulp when using one of the more expensive juicers. I decided I'd stick with my *cheap* £100 one and started sieving off the pulp which worked well.
The machine I bought is compact but still too big for our smallish kitchen. Some of them look like a small village. The jug collecting the juice on my juicer is small and after juicing half a dozen or so carrots I have to stop to tip the juice into another container. When I've completed all the carrot juicing I end up with a couple of jars of juice.. three sometimes, but this is only ever around 4 pounds of carrots at most. I put the jars in the fridge and drink it throughout the day. It's better cold from the fridge although it has given me brain freeze a few times!
There are two types of juicer, cold press and centrifugal. I struggle to know the difference, but the gist of it is that the cold press are the expensive ones and have a better way of extracting the juice with less pulp and as there is no heat generated, it ends up with more nutrients. The centrifugal ones use fast spinning metal blades, produce a bit of hear which can kill off some of the goodness in the carrots and from what I can gather are not fit for heavy daily use! I say this because yesterday after trying to juice 5 - 6 pounds of carrots for the first time, I got to around 4 pounds when the cutters started to go slower, the machine spluttered and smoke started pouring out of it. I'd had the machine 10 days :(
I'm going to get another machine and I'm going to have to shell out more money for it or no doubt the same thing will happen. I've considered just not bothering but if I don't I will just worry that I could have been doing myself some good but spoilt it by not continuing!
What a merry-go-round this whole new cancer world is!
I bought a juicer - it was around £100 but I think this is quite cheap for a juicer looking at some of the others. They can be over £300 and some are over £1000 - well sod that!
The £100 juicer started quite well other than there was an enormous amount of pulp floating on top of the juice. This was a bit unpleasant but I still drank it. I googled the *pulp* and read that this can happen with cheaper juicers. There is far less pulp when using one of the more expensive juicers. I decided I'd stick with my *cheap* £100 one and started sieving off the pulp which worked well.
The machine I bought is compact but still too big for our smallish kitchen. Some of them look like a small village. The jug collecting the juice on my juicer is small and after juicing half a dozen or so carrots I have to stop to tip the juice into another container. When I've completed all the carrot juicing I end up with a couple of jars of juice.. three sometimes, but this is only ever around 4 pounds of carrots at most. I put the jars in the fridge and drink it throughout the day. It's better cold from the fridge although it has given me brain freeze a few times!
There are two types of juicer, cold press and centrifugal. I struggle to know the difference, but the gist of it is that the cold press are the expensive ones and have a better way of extracting the juice with less pulp and as there is no heat generated, it ends up with more nutrients. The centrifugal ones use fast spinning metal blades, produce a bit of hear which can kill off some of the goodness in the carrots and from what I can gather are not fit for heavy daily use! I say this because yesterday after trying to juice 5 - 6 pounds of carrots for the first time, I got to around 4 pounds when the cutters started to go slower, the machine spluttered and smoke started pouring out of it. I'd had the machine 10 days :(
I'm going to get another machine and I'm going to have to shell out more money for it or no doubt the same thing will happen. I've considered just not bothering but if I don't I will just worry that I could have been doing myself some good but spoilt it by not continuing!
What a merry-go-round this whole new cancer world is!
Thursday, 2 March 2017
Fed Up
I'm really fed up. Since having the MRI scan a couple of weeks ago I've heard nothing at all. On the day of the MRI, I rang one of the cancer nurses and left a message for her as she had asked that I let her know that I had managed to go through with the scan this time. Later that day one of the other nurses called back to say that she would look out for the scans arriving (probably the following Monday) and would make sure my case was down to be discussed by the team the following Wednesday. It's difficult a few days before these meeting trying to keep things together as it's too easy to imagine awful things. Usually what happens after the meeting is I get a phone call asking me to see the consultant the following morning. This didn't happen. I rang the nurses but was told that the MRI scans hadn't arrived and so it would be the following week before my case was discussed. This is all very difficult to deal with when it has already been 11 months since I first saw signs of blood in my poo. This in itself is dreadfully shocking and it's impossible not to continue looking for blood on a daily basis. This will be with me forever as I will never stop looking.
Frustratingly, no one seems to be in any rush for answers but me.
Knowing that my case was going to be discussed yesterday, I had another few bad days worrying about the outcome. Dreams are vivid and range from upsetting to weird to joyful. But no phone call came. Against my better judgement and knowing I was making a nuisance of myself, I rang the nurses again only to be told that my case wasn't down to be discussed as the MRI scans still hadn't come back. Apparently, the scans are sent out to third party companies to be assessed and returned and mine hadn't yet been returned. No one seemed to know who had the scans or how long they might take to come back. To say I'm fed up is an understatement. To say I'm angry is closer, annoyed, very much so and pissed off.. yes, so very very pissed off.
I was told I would get a phone call today. I won't be holding my breath and even if I do I know that it will be next week before anyone sees me. I can't help thinking that if I had been seen quicker last year whether all of this would be over now.
I feel sorry for myself for the first time. I don't like to feel this way and I don't like to admit it. I feel let down by just about everything and everybody. My husband doesn't want to discuss anything about cancer or the possible consequences. He has a positive outlook on everything and so just thinks I'm being a drama queen. He took early retirement last March. The plan was to spend more time together as 'none of us know how long we have got left'. He does a bit of consultancy work here and there and he's booked something this month which takes him away from home so I'm left wondering if I could be in hospital during this time. Am I being selfish worrying I'll be on my own? What if I'm having chemo then. It's all what if's I know but I'm the only one with any of these thoughts it seems. Everyone else seems to think I'll get the all clear when the MRI results are finally revealed but I can't be positive. The pain in my left side is still there, worse if anything. Would it still be there if there was nothing wrong I wonder.
Today, I feel let down by absolutely everyone. I'll feel bad even saying this tomorrow but the cold facts are I'm pretty much on my own with this.
Frustratingly, no one seems to be in any rush for answers but me.
Knowing that my case was going to be discussed yesterday, I had another few bad days worrying about the outcome. Dreams are vivid and range from upsetting to weird to joyful. But no phone call came. Against my better judgement and knowing I was making a nuisance of myself, I rang the nurses again only to be told that my case wasn't down to be discussed as the MRI scans still hadn't come back. Apparently, the scans are sent out to third party companies to be assessed and returned and mine hadn't yet been returned. No one seemed to know who had the scans or how long they might take to come back. To say I'm fed up is an understatement. To say I'm angry is closer, annoyed, very much so and pissed off.. yes, so very very pissed off.
I was told I would get a phone call today. I won't be holding my breath and even if I do I know that it will be next week before anyone sees me. I can't help thinking that if I had been seen quicker last year whether all of this would be over now.
I feel sorry for myself for the first time. I don't like to feel this way and I don't like to admit it. I feel let down by just about everything and everybody. My husband doesn't want to discuss anything about cancer or the possible consequences. He has a positive outlook on everything and so just thinks I'm being a drama queen. He took early retirement last March. The plan was to spend more time together as 'none of us know how long we have got left'. He does a bit of consultancy work here and there and he's booked something this month which takes him away from home so I'm left wondering if I could be in hospital during this time. Am I being selfish worrying I'll be on my own? What if I'm having chemo then. It's all what if's I know but I'm the only one with any of these thoughts it seems. Everyone else seems to think I'll get the all clear when the MRI results are finally revealed but I can't be positive. The pain in my left side is still there, worse if anything. Would it still be there if there was nothing wrong I wonder.
Today, I feel let down by absolutely everyone. I'll feel bad even saying this tomorrow but the cold facts are I'm pretty much on my own with this.
Sunday, 26 February 2017
10 Pieces of Fruit or Veg A Day
I was really interested to read the new guidelines recommending 10 pieces of fruit or veg a day for optimum health and to keep cancer and heart disease at bay. It looks like the carrot diet I mentioned previously could actually be a good idea after all. The article said that having MORE than 10 pieces of fruit or veg could be even more beneficial health wise.
I'm not sure I could ever eat 10 pieces of fruit or veg a day. I have bladder problems which are exacerbated by fruit in particular. The acid in it doesn't seem to agree with me at all. Oranges are the worst (and I love them). I can manage bananas and less acidic fruit such as melon, papaya and some types of plum but other fruit can be an issue for me.
My juicer arrived this week and I immediately juiced grapes, blueberries and orange and an apple. I was up 5 times in the night to pee after that!
I've also been juicing carrots. It makes a right old mess of everything. The juicer has taken on an orange tint that I feel sure will always be there. I've not managed to drink as much as is recommended to fight cancer though. It's very hard to drink litres of juice. It reminds me of drinking the Prep for a colonoscopy. Not great. So far, it's sent me to the loo a lot. I also put it in the fridge and now when trying to drink it, it gives me brain freeze! I'm trying to build the amount of juice up per day but it's not easy. I'm thinking it might be a lot more palatable with gin or vodka in it!!
There is a bigger issue though with eating more fruit and veg. The calories! 5lb of carrots juiced is about 600 calories! That's quite a lot if you are already trying to cut down and 10 pieces of fruit depending on type could be anything from about 600 to 900 calories. Yes doctor I've gained weight on the fruit and veg diet! Added to that, the cost of my fruit and veg this week has been around £30, it won't be easy for families on low incomes or benefits to buy it.
Back to the carrot juicing. I emailed the guy who champions the carrot diet, Ralph Cole. He emailed back - he's such a lovely person. He is 100% convinced his cancer was cured by carrots. It all sounds a bit quacky I know, but what if he's right?!!! It's very risky isn't it and as I have mentioned before I wouldn't turn down conventional cancer treatments in favour of it, but along side it, I'm giving it a go. Ralph doesn't try and sell anything and doesn't charge for his information. He just wants to share it with others in the hope that they too can fight cancer.
There is another piece here from Ann Cameron, who also did the carrot juicing to fight her own cancer. I'm quite intrigued by it all at the moment.
http://www.chrisbeatcancer.com/ann-cameron-cured-her-cancer-with-carrot-juice/
I'm not sure I could ever eat 10 pieces of fruit or veg a day. I have bladder problems which are exacerbated by fruit in particular. The acid in it doesn't seem to agree with me at all. Oranges are the worst (and I love them). I can manage bananas and less acidic fruit such as melon, papaya and some types of plum but other fruit can be an issue for me.
My juicer arrived this week and I immediately juiced grapes, blueberries and orange and an apple. I was up 5 times in the night to pee after that!
I've also been juicing carrots. It makes a right old mess of everything. The juicer has taken on an orange tint that I feel sure will always be there. I've not managed to drink as much as is recommended to fight cancer though. It's very hard to drink litres of juice. It reminds me of drinking the Prep for a colonoscopy. Not great. So far, it's sent me to the loo a lot. I also put it in the fridge and now when trying to drink it, it gives me brain freeze! I'm trying to build the amount of juice up per day but it's not easy. I'm thinking it might be a lot more palatable with gin or vodka in it!!
There is a bigger issue though with eating more fruit and veg. The calories! 5lb of carrots juiced is about 600 calories! That's quite a lot if you are already trying to cut down and 10 pieces of fruit depending on type could be anything from about 600 to 900 calories. Yes doctor I've gained weight on the fruit and veg diet! Added to that, the cost of my fruit and veg this week has been around £30, it won't be easy for families on low incomes or benefits to buy it.
Back to the carrot juicing. I emailed the guy who champions the carrot diet, Ralph Cole. He emailed back - he's such a lovely person. He is 100% convinced his cancer was cured by carrots. It all sounds a bit quacky I know, but what if he's right?!!! It's very risky isn't it and as I have mentioned before I wouldn't turn down conventional cancer treatments in favour of it, but along side it, I'm giving it a go. Ralph doesn't try and sell anything and doesn't charge for his information. He just wants to share it with others in the hope that they too can fight cancer.
There is another piece here from Ann Cameron, who also did the carrot juicing to fight her own cancer. I'm quite intrigued by it all at the moment.
http://www.chrisbeatcancer.com/ann-cameron-cured-her-cancer-with-carrot-juice/
Wednesday, 22 February 2017
No News Is Terrible
I've been waiting for the dreaded call this afternoon inviting me to see my consultant in the morning. The call never came. Read into this what you will because I have. Today has been one of the hardest days for me. I was told last week that my case would be discussed today (the usual thing - it's always Wednesday morning) and that I would get a call later on in the day to make an appointment to see the oncologist. What am I to make of this? Has the call not come because the meeting was cancelled? Maybe I didn't get a call because the MRI has thrown up a worse situation and they need to speak to other consultants before seeing me? Are they trying to find me an urgent bed? Has nothing further been found and there is no immediate urgency to see me? Did the MRI not work properly as I went in on my tummy? As usual I prefer to think that something major has occurred and so I expect the worst. I cried today. I am a cryer by nature. I can cry for anyone's child in a nativity play. I'm embarrassed by my ability to cry at the most menial of things. I always feel I need to man up. Anyway I don't want to cry about cancer. I really don't. I don't feel sorry for myself and I don't think 'why me" I think 'why not me" - it happens to babies and teenagers, why should I be exempt? So crying today annoyed me and I soon told myself off and stopped fairly sharpish.
I AM annoyed though. I'm angry. I shouldn't be because obviously several people have had similar phone calls today and they may well be in a worse situation that me and they deserve those phone calls. Everyone tells you that the waiting is the worst and it really is. It is difficult to even understand what that might be like until you find yourself in a situation where you are waiting. I didn't sleep well and I have been expecting the worst but not getting the phone call has exceeded all my usual feelings of anxiety.. I thought that by tomorrow morning I would know my fate. Part of me doesn't want to know but the sensible part tells me that once I know what's got to be done I can knuckle down and get on with it.
Now I am left in limbo not knowing what on earth has gone on and I certainly won't be seeing my oncologist tomorrow. I have phoned the cancer nurses. They always ring to make the appointment anyway. I wasn't going to call but I just couldn't help myself, I didn't want another restless night. But there was no reply, the call just went to answerphone. So here I am, waiting again. It's been over a month since they found cancer in my colon and I am still waiting to find out exactly what's going on. It's complete and utter torture.
I AM annoyed though. I'm angry. I shouldn't be because obviously several people have had similar phone calls today and they may well be in a worse situation that me and they deserve those phone calls. Everyone tells you that the waiting is the worst and it really is. It is difficult to even understand what that might be like until you find yourself in a situation where you are waiting. I didn't sleep well and I have been expecting the worst but not getting the phone call has exceeded all my usual feelings of anxiety.. I thought that by tomorrow morning I would know my fate. Part of me doesn't want to know but the sensible part tells me that once I know what's got to be done I can knuckle down and get on with it.
Now I am left in limbo not knowing what on earth has gone on and I certainly won't be seeing my oncologist tomorrow. I have phoned the cancer nurses. They always ring to make the appointment anyway. I wasn't going to call but I just couldn't help myself, I didn't want another restless night. But there was no reply, the call just went to answerphone. So here I am, waiting again. It's been over a month since they found cancer in my colon and I am still waiting to find out exactly what's going on. It's complete and utter torture.
Saturday, 18 February 2017
Don't Believe The Hype
I've never believed the hype surrounding miracle cures for combatting cancer. Whilst the conventional treatments of chemo and radiation can be harmful to the body, I would always put my trust in my oncologist. If I had read an article about someone beating cancer with carrots 6 months ago I would have just thought they had lost the plot and were likely to kill themselves in the process. It's funny how, once you are told you have cancer, you are willing to read and try anything that might help. Carrots against chemo - carrots win hands down for the ease of administration surely!
I read about Ann Cameron beating her stage 4 cancer by juicing carrots. She had read it online herself and decided to go with it. After all, what harm can it do? In fact, I've read of several success stories. I haven't read any stories where it hasn't succeeded as I guess those people aren't here to tell us it didn't work! I'm not knocking it at all. If it has worked and saved only one life, I'm all for it. Ann is no fool. She's a children's author and clearly a very intelligent woman. I immediately downloaded her book!
The article I found online is posted below:
http://naturalsociety.com/man-woman-carrot-juice-stage-4-cancer/
Apparently, 5 pounds of carrots a day are needed to kill the cancer. I'm sure this is quite an ordeal, not only drinking it but juicing it too. Ann initially tried 3 pounds and it didn't work. The carrots also make you turn a nice shade of David Dickinson. This bothers me, I'm not sure why because in the whole scheme of things I'd rather have a teak finish on my skin than be in a teak box in the ground! Ann changed nothing else in her diet. She only added the carrot juice.
I had a look at the Cancer Research UK website where there are several discussions regarding carrot juicing. Some are very positive but, rightly so, the Research Team DO post asking people not to promote *cures* that are not scientifically tested. One man on the forum has been carrot juicing for several months. When he went back for a CT scan in September last year, he was unhappy as the results were not good but he carried on juicing daily anyway. 2 months later in November, he had another CT scan which showed that the tumour on his lung had disappeared and the largest tumour on his liver had shrunk! He hasn't updated since because I think the comments by the moderators have put him off but I really hope he is well! I've sent him a PM in the hope of getting an update.
I'm rambling here of course as I have no idea if this alternative therapy (or any of the others) work and no doubt most of them don't but anything positive for anyone is surely a good thing. Positive thinking is something I don't possess much of but reading success stories lifts my heart for the people concerned.
I've sent for a juicer :)
I read about Ann Cameron beating her stage 4 cancer by juicing carrots. She had read it online herself and decided to go with it. After all, what harm can it do? In fact, I've read of several success stories. I haven't read any stories where it hasn't succeeded as I guess those people aren't here to tell us it didn't work! I'm not knocking it at all. If it has worked and saved only one life, I'm all for it. Ann is no fool. She's a children's author and clearly a very intelligent woman. I immediately downloaded her book!
The article I found online is posted below:
http://naturalsociety.com/man-woman-carrot-juice-stage-4-cancer/
Apparently, 5 pounds of carrots a day are needed to kill the cancer. I'm sure this is quite an ordeal, not only drinking it but juicing it too. Ann initially tried 3 pounds and it didn't work. The carrots also make you turn a nice shade of David Dickinson. This bothers me, I'm not sure why because in the whole scheme of things I'd rather have a teak finish on my skin than be in a teak box in the ground! Ann changed nothing else in her diet. She only added the carrot juice.
I had a look at the Cancer Research UK website where there are several discussions regarding carrot juicing. Some are very positive but, rightly so, the Research Team DO post asking people not to promote *cures* that are not scientifically tested. One man on the forum has been carrot juicing for several months. When he went back for a CT scan in September last year, he was unhappy as the results were not good but he carried on juicing daily anyway. 2 months later in November, he had another CT scan which showed that the tumour on his lung had disappeared and the largest tumour on his liver had shrunk! He hasn't updated since because I think the comments by the moderators have put him off but I really hope he is well! I've sent him a PM in the hope of getting an update.
I'm rambling here of course as I have no idea if this alternative therapy (or any of the others) work and no doubt most of them don't but anything positive for anyone is surely a good thing. Positive thinking is something I don't possess much of but reading success stories lifts my heart for the people concerned.
I've sent for a juicer :)
Wednesday, 15 February 2017
Night Terrors - MRI Scan
It's been a tough few days with the MRI scan looming large. I didn't sleep well last night and I've been a grumpy sod for a couple of days. It's difficult to put these things to the back of your mind. I found myself lying in bed with the quilt over my head trying to mimic being in the MRI machine. I did the same in the bath pretending it was the machine and trying to imagine I couldn't move. It didn't help. I can't sleep with the window shut and I have never been able to wear one of those masks for painting and decorating such is my claustrophobia. I never said I was normal!!!
I needn't have worried though because this time, it wasn't half so bad and I don't know how I managed it, but I stuck it out regardless of being terrified!
Things didn't start well. I arrived 25 minutes early only be to be told they were running quite late. A woman waiting for her husband informed me that his appointment was at 2.45pm and he hadn't gone in until 4.30pm. Oh brilliant. I've got hours to sit here and panic about everything going on. I could hear the machine clunking away in the next room for what seemed like an eternity.
When the husband of my companion in the waiting room came out, he looked very red faced as if he'd been in a sauna. 'I used to go out with a radiographer, but she saw straight through me' he said. It wasn't funny so I struggled to laugh. Sensing he hadn't won me over with his joke he added 'I then went out with a doctor but she lost her patience'. Worse, I thought. I forced a laugh. He continued in the same vein with another couple of Christmas cracker jokes and then as they bid me farewell, I found myself sat on my own in the waiting room with the Antiques Road Trip on TV for company. Even though there was only the TV and me, I didn't watch it, I couldn't put my mind to anything but how I was going to make myself stay in the tube! No one had given me a Plan B so I had to get through Plan A.
After about 15 minutes I was escorted into the changing room and asked if I had anything metal and removable on my body, such as teeth, hearing aid, belly button piercing? No. I was told to put my belongings in a locker in the changing room a bit like when you go to the baths, or certainly what I did in my childhood when I went to the baths. Has all that changed? I haven't been for about 30 years!
I was asked if I knew I was to go through the machine on my tummy, I did - and thank you Mr Consultant for suggesting this because it was absolutely nowhere near as bad as going through on my back. I could see daylight and this helped massively. Every time I felt a bit panicked, I glanced into the open, airy room and and felt OK again. I won't say it was easy because it wasn't. 20 minutes felt like a lifetime and how I managed to stay still for that time amazes me. My knees were killing me, my neck hurt and I felt I needed to cough on several occasions. Worrying about coughing actually made the time go by as I tried my hardest to control it fearing that if I DID cough, it would nul and void the part of the MRI I had already done. The noises made by the machine were varied. I counted them, I don't know why. I have a tendency to count everything, steps, stairs, people walking on the beach, paving slabs and sometimes, how many steps it will take me to get to the car or get home. I think it's called 'being a prat syndrome'.
If you have ended up reading this page because you are worried about having an MRI scan then please don't. Honestly, if I can do it then anyone can. The machine wasn't even switched on for my first attempt before I was back in the car and heading home. It was something that I just felt wasn't going to happen so please suggest lying on your tummy if you DO have difficulty. Not seeing the tunnel above you really is a huge help.
So another step completed and now I have more sleepless nights worrying about the outcome. It's been a long few weeks and no doubt it will be a long few months.
I needn't have worried though because this time, it wasn't half so bad and I don't know how I managed it, but I stuck it out regardless of being terrified!
Things didn't start well. I arrived 25 minutes early only be to be told they were running quite late. A woman waiting for her husband informed me that his appointment was at 2.45pm and he hadn't gone in until 4.30pm. Oh brilliant. I've got hours to sit here and panic about everything going on. I could hear the machine clunking away in the next room for what seemed like an eternity.
When the husband of my companion in the waiting room came out, he looked very red faced as if he'd been in a sauna. 'I used to go out with a radiographer, but she saw straight through me' he said. It wasn't funny so I struggled to laugh. Sensing he hadn't won me over with his joke he added 'I then went out with a doctor but she lost her patience'. Worse, I thought. I forced a laugh. He continued in the same vein with another couple of Christmas cracker jokes and then as they bid me farewell, I found myself sat on my own in the waiting room with the Antiques Road Trip on TV for company. Even though there was only the TV and me, I didn't watch it, I couldn't put my mind to anything but how I was going to make myself stay in the tube! No one had given me a Plan B so I had to get through Plan A.
After about 15 minutes I was escorted into the changing room and asked if I had anything metal and removable on my body, such as teeth, hearing aid, belly button piercing? No. I was told to put my belongings in a locker in the changing room a bit like when you go to the baths, or certainly what I did in my childhood when I went to the baths. Has all that changed? I haven't been for about 30 years!
I was asked if I knew I was to go through the machine on my tummy, I did - and thank you Mr Consultant for suggesting this because it was absolutely nowhere near as bad as going through on my back. I could see daylight and this helped massively. Every time I felt a bit panicked, I glanced into the open, airy room and and felt OK again. I won't say it was easy because it wasn't. 20 minutes felt like a lifetime and how I managed to stay still for that time amazes me. My knees were killing me, my neck hurt and I felt I needed to cough on several occasions. Worrying about coughing actually made the time go by as I tried my hardest to control it fearing that if I DID cough, it would nul and void the part of the MRI I had already done. The noises made by the machine were varied. I counted them, I don't know why. I have a tendency to count everything, steps, stairs, people walking on the beach, paving slabs and sometimes, how many steps it will take me to get to the car or get home. I think it's called 'being a prat syndrome'.
If you have ended up reading this page because you are worried about having an MRI scan then please don't. Honestly, if I can do it then anyone can. The machine wasn't even switched on for my first attempt before I was back in the car and heading home. It was something that I just felt wasn't going to happen so please suggest lying on your tummy if you DO have difficulty. Not seeing the tunnel above you really is a huge help.
So another step completed and now I have more sleepless nights worrying about the outcome. It's been a long few weeks and no doubt it will be a long few months.
Monday, 13 February 2017
Doing A Bit Of Research....
...well, googling colon cancer to be honest. How many people tell you not to do it?! The truth is that whilst some will avoid it for fear of what they might find, the majority of people are going to google it whatever. There are top class scientists on the internet having researched just about everything known to man as well as the best consultants in the world. Why wouldn't you want to find out as much as you can? That part is fine. It's when you happen across other stuff telling you not to have chemo because it will 'kill you' and to cure cancer with food, or supplements. Added to that there is a section of society that tells you that praying will save you. Apparently, googling cancer is worse for you than cancer itself! Yet we continue to torture ourselves doing it! It's a bit like having one of those medical books back in the 70's. My dad threw ours out in the end due to the fact that he'd diagnosed himself as having most of the illnesses from A - Z! Doctors hate it if you say you've googled your symptoms and give you quite a dressing down for it but then when you tell them your symptoms, they proceed to google it themselves! I know they are looking at reputable websites but even so, they don't know what's wrong with you half the time either! I've even had doctor's print out reading matter off the internet for me to take home, a type of homework for the sick!
Apparently googling your symptoms makes you a 'cybercondriac'!
What about books? I've bought a few lately. I was really taken with the pH theory that cancer cannot live in a high pH environment and that by eating the right foods and taking the right supplements, the cancer will have no alternative but to die! I wrote a list of foods to buy and set about sorting out recipes. I also googled 'High pH diet doesn't work' and sure enough, there were as many websites saying it was rubbish as those that said it was a miracle cure! It appears in loads of top 10 myths about cancer. Eating healthier can only be good for us, but if at some point in my life I find I have a terminal illness, I'm going out for a McDonald's and as much Cadburys chocolate as I can stuff my face with!
Cancer blogs are another thing. There are thousands. I read one yesterday that finished in 2012. I can only imagine that the blogger died and that's why it came to an abrupt end, or that they got the all clear and took themselves off to some far flung place to have the most wonderful time. I hope it's the latter.
Apparently googling your symptoms makes you a 'cybercondriac'!
What about books? I've bought a few lately. I was really taken with the pH theory that cancer cannot live in a high pH environment and that by eating the right foods and taking the right supplements, the cancer will have no alternative but to die! I wrote a list of foods to buy and set about sorting out recipes. I also googled 'High pH diet doesn't work' and sure enough, there were as many websites saying it was rubbish as those that said it was a miracle cure! It appears in loads of top 10 myths about cancer. Eating healthier can only be good for us, but if at some point in my life I find I have a terminal illness, I'm going out for a McDonald's and as much Cadburys chocolate as I can stuff my face with!
Cancer blogs are another thing. There are thousands. I read one yesterday that finished in 2012. I can only imagine that the blogger died and that's why it came to an abrupt end, or that they got the all clear and took themselves off to some far flung place to have the most wonderful time. I hope it's the latter.
Sunday, 12 February 2017
Saturday, 11 February 2017
It's The Weekend
The dreaded MRI appointment has finally come through. Its for Wednesday at 5PM. I assume I am last in because I made a bit of a scene last time. Embarrassing. I've now got 5 days to worry about just how I'm going to get through that bloody scanner! What happens if I can't go through with it again? How will they ever find out where the cancer is and what my options are? It's such an important thing to have done so I have to do my best, I know this but the fear is still at the back of my mind.
Met up with some friends last night. Drank champagne and had a laugh. It's lovely to be in the company of people that make me forget about my cancer woes. I walked home in my slippers carrying my Ugg boots. A few steps down the lane and it all came flooding back to me. It's always there waiting to pop back to the front of my thoughts. I try not to think about it but it's so difficult. Sitting in the car overlooking the sea every day, I can't help asking myself if I will be looking at this view this time next year. Will I be paddling in the summer like last year? Why do I torture myself so much. I can't do that 'take one step at a time' crap at all, I have to make myself think the worst and frighten the bejasus out of myself!
One of my friends is a staff nurse and works at the hospital I will have to go to if I need surgery. She keeps telling me she will call in on me often and get the other nurses to look after me. I guess I should feel happy and comforted by this but I actually feel really upset about it. I don't want her calling in on me seeing me at my worst! I don't really want my family to see me like it! It feels such a huge thing in my life and I woke up worrying about it this morning. In the whole scheme of things, does it really matter if she sees me with no make up, my hair a mess and possibly having lost a bridged tooth? It really does matter to me right now!!! In fact, the thought of this has actually put the much larger issue that I have cancer into second place at the moment! I mean, a gap in my teeth?!! Horrific!
Met up with some friends last night. Drank champagne and had a laugh. It's lovely to be in the company of people that make me forget about my cancer woes. I walked home in my slippers carrying my Ugg boots. A few steps down the lane and it all came flooding back to me. It's always there waiting to pop back to the front of my thoughts. I try not to think about it but it's so difficult. Sitting in the car overlooking the sea every day, I can't help asking myself if I will be looking at this view this time next year. Will I be paddling in the summer like last year? Why do I torture myself so much. I can't do that 'take one step at a time' crap at all, I have to make myself think the worst and frighten the bejasus out of myself!
One of my friends is a staff nurse and works at the hospital I will have to go to if I need surgery. She keeps telling me she will call in on me often and get the other nurses to look after me. I guess I should feel happy and comforted by this but I actually feel really upset about it. I don't want her calling in on me seeing me at my worst! I don't really want my family to see me like it! It feels such a huge thing in my life and I woke up worrying about it this morning. In the whole scheme of things, does it really matter if she sees me with no make up, my hair a mess and possibly having lost a bridged tooth? It really does matter to me right now!!! In fact, the thought of this has actually put the much larger issue that I have cancer into second place at the moment! I mean, a gap in my teeth?!! Horrific!
Friday, 10 February 2017
Waiting Around
There's an awful lot of waiting around. As everyone in a similar position will tell you, the waiting is the worst. I'm feeling angry that I waited around for 6 months after first seeing my GP before I could get anyone to take me seriously. This is causing me some angst at the moment and I'm fighting the urge to go marching into the surgery to tell her exactly what I think of her. I won't of course, it just keeps me going thinking that I might!! If I had been sent to see a consultant immediately, would I still be in the same boat? I'll never know.
Waiting for results of scans is equally frustrating. It seems to take forever to hear anything and then when you do and there is some urgency about it, you wish you'd never heard anything in the first place. My head is a mess waiting to hear because it gives me time to imagine what is going on inside my body. Is it spreading every day? Is it contained, has it actually already been removed? It makes me wonder about my own mortality and just how long I have to live. Waiting for the postman for appointments on a daily basis becomes part of the daily routine. When nothing arrives, you start to think the letter has been lost in the post or delivered to someone else by mistake. It's amazing the scenario's it's possible to make up in your head in one day!
Then there is the waiting around at the hospital to see the consultant. You look around the waiting room wondering just how many of those sat there have been called in the same as you have. They all look happy enough and laughing with their partners or friends. It must just be me with bad news then.
The consultant smiles, shakes my hand and tells me it's nice to see me again. I wonder what makes me sit there while the bad news starts to sink in and manage somehow to keep nodding and looking composed. It's not the news I want of course but after 10 months it is at least news of some sort.
Now I wait again. I've chased up the MRI appointment. I left it a week and when I hadn't heard anything I rang the hospital. The delay is because I couldn't go through with it last time. It is something to do with me having to go through the machine at a different angle. Why I wonder? I was told to try to go through on my belly. How can this delay the scan? No one but me seems in any hurry to find the full facts out. It's frustrating to say the least.
So I wait around again.....
Waiting for results of scans is equally frustrating. It seems to take forever to hear anything and then when you do and there is some urgency about it, you wish you'd never heard anything in the first place. My head is a mess waiting to hear because it gives me time to imagine what is going on inside my body. Is it spreading every day? Is it contained, has it actually already been removed? It makes me wonder about my own mortality and just how long I have to live. Waiting for the postman for appointments on a daily basis becomes part of the daily routine. When nothing arrives, you start to think the letter has been lost in the post or delivered to someone else by mistake. It's amazing the scenario's it's possible to make up in your head in one day!
Then there is the waiting around at the hospital to see the consultant. You look around the waiting room wondering just how many of those sat there have been called in the same as you have. They all look happy enough and laughing with their partners or friends. It must just be me with bad news then.
The consultant smiles, shakes my hand and tells me it's nice to see me again. I wonder what makes me sit there while the bad news starts to sink in and manage somehow to keep nodding and looking composed. It's not the news I want of course but after 10 months it is at least news of some sort.
Now I wait again. I've chased up the MRI appointment. I left it a week and when I hadn't heard anything I rang the hospital. The delay is because I couldn't go through with it last time. It is something to do with me having to go through the machine at a different angle. Why I wonder? I was told to try to go through on my belly. How can this delay the scan? No one but me seems in any hurry to find the full facts out. It's frustrating to say the least.
So I wait around again.....
Thursday, 9 February 2017
Friends?
People have started to ignore me. This brings out two different sides of me. The one side feels a bit sorry for them because they clearly do not know what to say but the other brings out this feeling of annoyance that they just can't be normal with me. I'm still me. I'm still that great girl who has the most fantastic sense of humour (and a high opinion of herself!). It's the people who I do not expect to ignore me that angers me the most. Those that I have always been there for. The ones that have phoned me or texted most days for years. The ones I've sent flowers to when they have been ill, called or texted daily when things have been tough. Those are the worst 'friends'.
Then there are those that have been friends for years but do not keep in contact that much. These old friends seem to be the ones who really care and text early morning to see if I have been OK, drop little messages here and there throughout the day to say they are thinking about me. These absent friends have been supportive and understanding.
My true friends reacted in the only way I would expect. They said 'come round, we'll open a couple of bottles of wine' and we did. Champagne in fact and cancer wasn't mentioned once.
We've only lived in the area we live now for 16 months. We've got to know a few people and some have become very close friends. I've been surprised at the amount of people who have called round with flowers. It's not that I want a fuss. I'd rather no one know if I'm honest, but that's just never going to work because if you tell one, it spreads like wild fire. This is Wales, they love a gossip!
I'll never mention any of this on Facebook. I already shout at the PC at what some people put on there. Why do they feel the need to live out their whole life on Facebook? Every last thing is added. 'Going to town" selfie. 'Going to collect kids from school' selfie. 'Row with other half' - sad selfie. 'Kids are so ill' selfie of sick kids in bed. Well this ain't going to happen on my timeline. If I die then my hubby can put on, "Lynne's gone kicking and screaming to the other side". This may well take some time as he's never used Facebook or any other social media platform in his life, so at least it will keep him occupied for a while and stop him thinking about his huge loss and just how on earth he will manage to live without me.
'Going to the other side".. now that's another kettle of fish!!
Then there are those that have been friends for years but do not keep in contact that much. These old friends seem to be the ones who really care and text early morning to see if I have been OK, drop little messages here and there throughout the day to say they are thinking about me. These absent friends have been supportive and understanding.
My true friends reacted in the only way I would expect. They said 'come round, we'll open a couple of bottles of wine' and we did. Champagne in fact and cancer wasn't mentioned once.
We've only lived in the area we live now for 16 months. We've got to know a few people and some have become very close friends. I've been surprised at the amount of people who have called round with flowers. It's not that I want a fuss. I'd rather no one know if I'm honest, but that's just never going to work because if you tell one, it spreads like wild fire. This is Wales, they love a gossip!
I'll never mention any of this on Facebook. I already shout at the PC at what some people put on there. Why do they feel the need to live out their whole life on Facebook? Every last thing is added. 'Going to town" selfie. 'Going to collect kids from school' selfie. 'Row with other half' - sad selfie. 'Kids are so ill' selfie of sick kids in bed. Well this ain't going to happen on my timeline. If I die then my hubby can put on, "Lynne's gone kicking and screaming to the other side". This may well take some time as he's never used Facebook or any other social media platform in his life, so at least it will keep him occupied for a while and stop him thinking about his huge loss and just how on earth he will manage to live without me.
'Going to the other side".. now that's another kettle of fish!!
Wednesday, 8 February 2017
So... It Finally Got Me
Was I expecting it? Yes. Cancer took my dad, it's trying to take my brother and now it has come for me. Was I shocked? Well yes simply because 3 months earlier I was given the all clear. I'm 59. My brother was 59 when he was diagnosed and my dad was 65 when he died.
It's taken 10 months to get a diagnosis. I went along to see my GP in quite a panic after I saw blood in my poo. I was quick with this, saw it one day, went to see the GP the next. Unfortunately, my GP wasn't in so much of a panic. She said that she felt it was nothing to worry about and sent me home. A few days later I had a letter through the post from her. It said that, upon reflection, she felt that the symptoms I presented at my appointment needed checking so she referred me to see a specialist, but only as a routine appointment.
3 months went by. I didn't hear anything. I went back to see my GP with another issue. I'd had really strange sensations in my arms and kept having hot flushes. I put it down to the menopause. I was sent for a blood test and it came back that I had a folic acid deficiency. I mentioned that no appointment had come through regarding the rectal bleeding. I wasn't too concerned at this point as I hadn't been seeing blood but the GP said it had only been 3 months and not to worry, the appointment would be through soon.
6 months later, still no appointment. The bleeding was worse. I phone the surgery and was told to ring the hospital to chase up the appointment. This wasn't an easy task. I didn't know which hospital I had been referred to or who the consultant was. I rang round a few places and finally got to speak to someone who knew I was in the queue! I was told the appointment would take up to 12 months.
Naturally enough I went back to see my GP and at this point, she did seem more concerned this time and referred me as an emergency. Things happened quickly. I was seeing a consultant within a week and was told I would need a colonoscopy. This was duly booked and the dreaded Prep was given for me to start the day before my colonoscopy. This was really unpleasant. Not only was I starving (can't eat for 24 hours) but the visits to the loo, the sore bottom and the fear of not making it to the loo in time were just a few of the issues involved! Pushing my husband out of the way shouting "quick, I'm going to follow through" wasn't my finest moment.
The following day I went along for my colonoscopy. I wish I could say it went well, but in reality, it was bloody painful. So painful in fact, I was screaming out in agony and although some sedative was eventually given to me, the main part of the colonoscopy had to be aborted. The sedative kicked in when I got home about an hour later! However, a large polyp was found in the lower part of my bowel and samples were taken for biopsies. The doctor doing the colonoscopy was clearly annoyed with me. He started off very nice and chatty but got more annoyed as it became clear I wasn't going to be able to proceed due to the pain I was suffering.
If I'd made a fool of myself with the colonoscopy then bear with me as things were about to get even more embarrassing. I then had to go for an MRI. This didn't go at all well. Once in the tube I had a complete panic attack and that too had to be aborted. I mean, it just didn't matter how much I told myself that that this could be a matter of life or death, my head was having none of it and out of the tube I popped having wasted some more of the NHS precious time time and money. When I first saw the scanner, I thought I would be fine. It was a big hole, it didn't look too intimidating. Once on the bed though, it was raised really high and my large boobs were almost touching the top of the tube. I felt squashed. My arms were pressing against the sides. Another lift of the bed meant my nose was centimetres away from the top of the scanner and it was then that I realised there was no way this was going to happen. The claustrophobia was horrific.
I also went for a CT scan that same day. I have to be honest, none of these procedures are great but the CT scan is the easiest of all and I was relieved to go through with it. At some point after the aborted MRI procedure, I was sent for a colonography, another CT scan but different images. For this one I had another Prep and then a tube was inserted into my bum and I had to keep turning over from back to front, side to side with the tube still firmly in place.
The following week I had a phone call from the hospital. The consultant wanted to see me the following day. Well this was unexpected. The following day? That was quick and seemed urgent. I had the worst night worrying that I probably had stage 4 cancer and I would be dead by the end of the month! Sitting in the queue the following morning at the hospital, my mind was awash with all sorts of scenarios, they were unnecessary. The consultant told me that nothing had showed up on the CT scan. I was cancer free and the only thing that needed doing was the polyp taken away. The biopsies had shown the polyp not to be cancerous. As there was no rush for this, I would get a letter in due course to get the procedure done. He said that there was a very tiny chance that, once the polyp was removed, there could be a very small amount of cancer underneath it which wasn't picked up on the CT scan but if this was the case it would be operable and I wasn't to worry as he was almost certain this wouldn't happen anyway.
When I got back to the car, my husband was sat waiting for me and I cried when I told him I was cancer free. We both did. It was November. It was almost Christmas. We could have a lovely time with our family and friends without having to worry about the cancer word again.
I paid it little thought to be honest. Very occasionally I would spring into my mind and I would have a niggling doubt about the polyp but generally, I forgot about it.
The appointment for the polyp to be removed came through and I again went through the Prep and told myself this was the final hurdle, the Prep and then the procedure and then, my life back.
The procedure was easier than the first colonoscopy. The polyp was taken away while Trump's inauguration was on TV. The polyp was easier to deal with! The pain was again awful, like childbirth. The doctor said if I could fart (yes he said fart) it would help get rid of the cramping. I told him I didn't want to fart in front of a doctor and 4 nurses but he was very keen for me to do it so I pushed as hard as I could and farted for about 10 seconds. It was quite satisfying. Not as satisfying as one of the nurses saying "are you a posh bird"? I'm not, but if I can give the illusion I am with a tube up my arse and farting for 10 seconds then my work here is done!
When the phone call came from the hospital 10 days later asking me to go in to see the consultant the following morning again I was more than a bit taken aback and I won't lie, I had the worst night ever. I knew it must be serious. Why would they want me the next day?
I can't remember the consultants words. They were something along the lines of 'well we have a lot of thinking to do about how we go forward with your treatment from here". "That doesn't sound very good" I said. He continued to tell me that the polyp was in fact cancerous after all and that whilst they hoped the cancer had been removed with the polyp, it could have spread. Nothing had shown up on the CT scans and I needed an MRI. His mouth was moving but I can't say I heard half of what he said because all I could do was sit there and keep saying in my head "I have cancer. I have cancer". It was a shock. Was I angry? Yes I was. Angry with the GP for not referring me sooner, angry at the consultant for telling me 3 months ago I was cancer free, angry that the polyp biopsy said no cancer, angry that no cancer showed in either CT scan, angry that I didn't manage the MRI which could have thrown this information up months ago. Yes I was angry about a lot of things. At my previous appointment where the consultant told me I was cancer free, he was so lovely and reassuring, but this time, no matter what I asked, he didn't seem able to put my mind at ease and I didn't find him as approachable. No doubt he was, but in my head, he was the bearer of bad news and I didn't like him much. He said that the options, if the cancer has spread, were chemo or major surgery. He pointed out that I wasn't exactly the right shape for major surgery and that any treatment had risks. So not only did he tell me I had cancer, he said I was a fat cow too.
So here beginneth my *journey*. I do hate that word. I'm not on any sort of journey I want to be on. I didn't ask for this journey and I want to get off at the next stop. I await an appointment to have another MRI. That should be fun. I asked about the open MRI machine I know is available at another hospital but was told they are not so good. I just felt that surely one not so good MRI is better than not having one at all.
I have lost faith in anything anyone tells me. The polyp wasn't cancerous, then it was. I was cancer free, now I'm not. How do I go forward with trust?
It's taken 10 months to get a diagnosis. I went along to see my GP in quite a panic after I saw blood in my poo. I was quick with this, saw it one day, went to see the GP the next. Unfortunately, my GP wasn't in so much of a panic. She said that she felt it was nothing to worry about and sent me home. A few days later I had a letter through the post from her. It said that, upon reflection, she felt that the symptoms I presented at my appointment needed checking so she referred me to see a specialist, but only as a routine appointment.
3 months went by. I didn't hear anything. I went back to see my GP with another issue. I'd had really strange sensations in my arms and kept having hot flushes. I put it down to the menopause. I was sent for a blood test and it came back that I had a folic acid deficiency. I mentioned that no appointment had come through regarding the rectal bleeding. I wasn't too concerned at this point as I hadn't been seeing blood but the GP said it had only been 3 months and not to worry, the appointment would be through soon.
6 months later, still no appointment. The bleeding was worse. I phone the surgery and was told to ring the hospital to chase up the appointment. This wasn't an easy task. I didn't know which hospital I had been referred to or who the consultant was. I rang round a few places and finally got to speak to someone who knew I was in the queue! I was told the appointment would take up to 12 months.
Naturally enough I went back to see my GP and at this point, she did seem more concerned this time and referred me as an emergency. Things happened quickly. I was seeing a consultant within a week and was told I would need a colonoscopy. This was duly booked and the dreaded Prep was given for me to start the day before my colonoscopy. This was really unpleasant. Not only was I starving (can't eat for 24 hours) but the visits to the loo, the sore bottom and the fear of not making it to the loo in time were just a few of the issues involved! Pushing my husband out of the way shouting "quick, I'm going to follow through" wasn't my finest moment.
The following day I went along for my colonoscopy. I wish I could say it went well, but in reality, it was bloody painful. So painful in fact, I was screaming out in agony and although some sedative was eventually given to me, the main part of the colonoscopy had to be aborted. The sedative kicked in when I got home about an hour later! However, a large polyp was found in the lower part of my bowel and samples were taken for biopsies. The doctor doing the colonoscopy was clearly annoyed with me. He started off very nice and chatty but got more annoyed as it became clear I wasn't going to be able to proceed due to the pain I was suffering.
If I'd made a fool of myself with the colonoscopy then bear with me as things were about to get even more embarrassing. I then had to go for an MRI. This didn't go at all well. Once in the tube I had a complete panic attack and that too had to be aborted. I mean, it just didn't matter how much I told myself that that this could be a matter of life or death, my head was having none of it and out of the tube I popped having wasted some more of the NHS precious time time and money. When I first saw the scanner, I thought I would be fine. It was a big hole, it didn't look too intimidating. Once on the bed though, it was raised really high and my large boobs were almost touching the top of the tube. I felt squashed. My arms were pressing against the sides. Another lift of the bed meant my nose was centimetres away from the top of the scanner and it was then that I realised there was no way this was going to happen. The claustrophobia was horrific.
I also went for a CT scan that same day. I have to be honest, none of these procedures are great but the CT scan is the easiest of all and I was relieved to go through with it. At some point after the aborted MRI procedure, I was sent for a colonography, another CT scan but different images. For this one I had another Prep and then a tube was inserted into my bum and I had to keep turning over from back to front, side to side with the tube still firmly in place.
The following week I had a phone call from the hospital. The consultant wanted to see me the following day. Well this was unexpected. The following day? That was quick and seemed urgent. I had the worst night worrying that I probably had stage 4 cancer and I would be dead by the end of the month! Sitting in the queue the following morning at the hospital, my mind was awash with all sorts of scenarios, they were unnecessary. The consultant told me that nothing had showed up on the CT scan. I was cancer free and the only thing that needed doing was the polyp taken away. The biopsies had shown the polyp not to be cancerous. As there was no rush for this, I would get a letter in due course to get the procedure done. He said that there was a very tiny chance that, once the polyp was removed, there could be a very small amount of cancer underneath it which wasn't picked up on the CT scan but if this was the case it would be operable and I wasn't to worry as he was almost certain this wouldn't happen anyway.
When I got back to the car, my husband was sat waiting for me and I cried when I told him I was cancer free. We both did. It was November. It was almost Christmas. We could have a lovely time with our family and friends without having to worry about the cancer word again.
I paid it little thought to be honest. Very occasionally I would spring into my mind and I would have a niggling doubt about the polyp but generally, I forgot about it.
The appointment for the polyp to be removed came through and I again went through the Prep and told myself this was the final hurdle, the Prep and then the procedure and then, my life back.
The procedure was easier than the first colonoscopy. The polyp was taken away while Trump's inauguration was on TV. The polyp was easier to deal with! The pain was again awful, like childbirth. The doctor said if I could fart (yes he said fart) it would help get rid of the cramping. I told him I didn't want to fart in front of a doctor and 4 nurses but he was very keen for me to do it so I pushed as hard as I could and farted for about 10 seconds. It was quite satisfying. Not as satisfying as one of the nurses saying "are you a posh bird"? I'm not, but if I can give the illusion I am with a tube up my arse and farting for 10 seconds then my work here is done!
When the phone call came from the hospital 10 days later asking me to go in to see the consultant the following morning again I was more than a bit taken aback and I won't lie, I had the worst night ever. I knew it must be serious. Why would they want me the next day?
I can't remember the consultants words. They were something along the lines of 'well we have a lot of thinking to do about how we go forward with your treatment from here". "That doesn't sound very good" I said. He continued to tell me that the polyp was in fact cancerous after all and that whilst they hoped the cancer had been removed with the polyp, it could have spread. Nothing had shown up on the CT scans and I needed an MRI. His mouth was moving but I can't say I heard half of what he said because all I could do was sit there and keep saying in my head "I have cancer. I have cancer". It was a shock. Was I angry? Yes I was. Angry with the GP for not referring me sooner, angry at the consultant for telling me 3 months ago I was cancer free, angry that the polyp biopsy said no cancer, angry that no cancer showed in either CT scan, angry that I didn't manage the MRI which could have thrown this information up months ago. Yes I was angry about a lot of things. At my previous appointment where the consultant told me I was cancer free, he was so lovely and reassuring, but this time, no matter what I asked, he didn't seem able to put my mind at ease and I didn't find him as approachable. No doubt he was, but in my head, he was the bearer of bad news and I didn't like him much. He said that the options, if the cancer has spread, were chemo or major surgery. He pointed out that I wasn't exactly the right shape for major surgery and that any treatment had risks. So not only did he tell me I had cancer, he said I was a fat cow too.
So here beginneth my *journey*. I do hate that word. I'm not on any sort of journey I want to be on. I didn't ask for this journey and I want to get off at the next stop. I await an appointment to have another MRI. That should be fun. I asked about the open MRI machine I know is available at another hospital but was told they are not so good. I just felt that surely one not so good MRI is better than not having one at all.
I have lost faith in anything anyone tells me. The polyp wasn't cancerous, then it was. I was cancer free, now I'm not. How do I go forward with trust?
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