That's more like it

When I was first due to get chemo I read lots of accounts from folks who had been through it before to try to prepare myself for the experience. As it happened Chemo1 and 2 were pretty mild in the extent of the side effects and this lulled me into a false sense of security. Chemo 3 is turning into the real McCoy as per the textbook.

To get started I had to inject myself in the stomach with growth factor to get my white blood cells up, that in turn causes deep bone pain (where you grow your white blood cells) so I grump around like an old man occasionally letting slip the odd F word. The painkillers, which just take the edge off so are not appropiatly named at all, make you woosey. Bring on the toothache and the elephant killer antibiotic cocktail which eliminates all normal stomach function, my one unit of alchol allowance and my eassic tea (due to alchol in the tincture) and I am a walking growling sore headed, pharmacy.

All of that ahead of when they stuck the needle in and dump poisions in your bloodstream for four hours to make you better. Understandably my body does not comprehend the long term good this is doing me (ie not dying in two years which would be the average for untreated Hodgkins) and reacts big league to all this violation of normal protocol.

So taking stock on day three after chemo 3 there are good and bad observations. Primary good one is I have not yet lost my hair despite all prior patients going down that path, perhaps its just a matter of time, also good is I can put my mood swings down to the chemo and everyone still has to be nice to me (except they do not all understand that as Holly just said "you be mean!" when I tripped over her boots for the third time after telling her to put them in her room and turned off the TV to finally get them moved). Lee has bore the brunt of my grumpyness, with good humour as usual and continues to have to do the majority share of looking after the kids in these days when I am out for the count.

Bad observations include watching the clock until I am allowed to take my anti nausea pills as for the last few hours beforehand I feel increasingly like I have swallowed a pint of motor oil and its all about to return at speed. My wrist hurts like hell where the drip was and upstream so I think I have some bruising or chemo burn to the vein. Finally I have no energy at all, its pathetic I get up, get dressed, have something to eat or drink and then I wobble to the couch or bed and crash out for 5 hours or more - but I feel like I just put my head down for a moment.

So now its 8pm on sunday night and I feel like I have just got up for breakfast, well not really, having written this I feel like just putting my head down for another moment....Sometimes I feel it would be great if the medics could just knock you out for this bit and wake you up when its all over with a thumbs up or thumbs down, its so frustrating being ill and weak and not getting the things done you want to get done. Anyway enough of that grim stuff, I think I will try to get out for a short walk just to blow away the cobwebs and regain some harmony, a good thing is that there is still some light in the sky even at 8pm, finally after weeks of cold weather it is getting warm, soon the lawnmower will be getting its first outing of the year.

Hopefully by Tuesday I will be back in good shape, till then I will do my best not to play the part of the grumpy old man ! Lees friend Liz is going to take her out for a glass of wine later to give her a well deserved break from dust, decorations, me and the kids. I think that getting away from the intensity of the treatment calander, complications and chemo is important if we are all to remain sane. So far we have not booked anything for the Easter week but if all goes well a few days away in a nice hotel may be the treat we all need. I'll keep you posted on that front.

Cheers

Gerry

Regards

Gerry