Well, today is the first anniversary of my cancer treatment
proper, starting. I had
already had a number of ops to confirm the cancer but my radiotherapy and
chemotherapy started this day last year.
I had intended to write a blog of my experiences but, well, those
experiences kind of took over and before you know it a year has passed.
It’s been quite a ride but the good news is that I’m in
remission and slowly recovering from the treatment. I say recovering from the treatment, as rather bizarrely I
had no symptoms from my cancer. No
pain, no discomfort. I had rather
naively approached the prospect of chemotherapy and radiotherapy as the former
making my hair fall out and the latter being a simple, painless process. In the event, the chemotherapy I had –
there are many different types – was not one that makes your hair fall
out. But it does make up for that
in other ways, the main symptom for me being projectile vomiting which, if it
was an Olympic sport would have seen me winning gold regularly, every three
hours. The actual process of
administering the chemo took 14 hours.
Done overnight, it involved various plastic bottles of saline and other
liquids being slowly injected into my system. Ironically, out of the 14-hour process only one hour is for
the actual chemo application. Once
it had finished I felt fine and really did wonder what all the fuss was about
having heard the stories of the effects of chemo and having read the pamphlets
given out on the subject. I went
for my second radiotherapy session straight afterwards and headed home for the
weekend, stopping off on the way to do some grocery shopping. Still nothing. Got home. Had something to eat. Still nothing. Then, without any warning whatsoever
the sickness started. Sickness
like I have never known. Violent
and relentless. Fortunately the
effects only lasted for 72 hours or so, in time for me to get on with my
ongoing radiotherapy sessions, which were to be daily (Monday – Friday) for six
weeks.
The actual process of radiotherapy is totally painless but
as the days and weeks progress the effects begin to make themselves felt. As my cancer was in the neck and throat
region the treatment concentrated in that area. The ability to produce saliva properly disappears fairly
early on. I was told this would
probably happen but didn’t really appreciate the implications of this. Saliva is a wonderful thing that should
never be taken for granted.
Without it, it is very difficult to swallow and chewing food takes
forever, as there is nothing to break it down. Then my sense of taste and smell disappeared. My throat succumbed to the constant
barrage of radiotherapy and eventually eating became all but impossible and my
diet consisted of only milk and milky energy drinks – even without any taste
they weren’t pleasant!
Perhaps it’s a blokey thing but I was constantly fascinated
by the technology used in the radiotherapy treatment. For most cancers I believe patients have dots tattooed on
them at the affected area for the equipment to be aligned correctly. They don’t do this for head and neck
patients but instead a mask is made up that covers your head and shoulders with
holes cut out for eyes and nose. The
equipment is then aligned to marks made on the mask to ensure the same area is
treated each time. When you lie on
the ‘table’ you are effectively bolted down via the mask, unable to move. This may sound like something not for
the faint hearted but not once did I feel constricted or claustrophobic. My treatment took 15-20 minutes each
time and with music always playing in the background I almost dozed off on more
then one occasion.
Four weeks into my radiotherapy treatment I had my second
and final dose of chemotherapy. At
this stage I was coping with the treatment ok – I felt very weak and tired but
was aware of what was going on.
However, after my second dose of chemo my ability to deal with pretty
much anything reduced considerably.
I was staying in London during the week, coming home at weekends. However, starting at week 5, travelling
more than the relatively short distance from the hospital to the flat I was
staying in became impossible, so I stayed in London. The last 2 weeks saw me sleeping most of the time and I
remember very little. I do
remember my last radiotherapy session as I wanted to keep my mask as a souvenir
so made that extra push to stay with it long enough to ask the nurses if I
could. It now sits by my desk as a
reminder. Weird perhaps, but I
don’t want to forget.
Radiotherapy is a cumulative thing insomuch as it continues to
work after the treatment stops. So
much so that you actually feel the worst about 2 weeks after the treatment
actually finishes. So really I
remember very little over a 5 or 6 week period – out for the count completely.
So, since the end of last May I have been slowly
recovering. My taste is slowly
coming back, as is my ability to make saliva. It may never come back fully but it will be another year or
so before I’ll know for sure. Eating
is still a chore and will be a while before I regain the 2 stone I lost. Actually I’m not sure I want to put the
weight back on although I do now have a wardrobe of clothes that don’t
fit. My dental regime has changed
forever as I cannot afford to lose any teeth. As my jaw is effectively dead(!) the hole left by a tooth is
unlikely to heal leading to a significant risk of infection. Worst case would see bone from my leg
being used to plug the hole! So I
have two different toothpastes I have to use twice a day together with
mouthwash after meals. Never a
moment goes by when I’m not minty!
The support I received before my treatment has only
increased and I have been truly humbled by the good wishes from family, friends
and even people I don’t know. I
have seen a side to people that really does restore your faith in the kindness
of people. And that from a cynic
such as me!
To the staff at The Royal Marsden, what can I say? A more professional, friendly bunch I
could not have hoped to meet.
Without exception they made me feel I was their number one priority all the
way through. Something they do
with all their patients of course.
I shall forever be grateful for their care.
Cancer treatment is a very variable thing in the way it
affects people. I was told of a
couple of chaps who had the same radiotherapy treatment as me who breezed
through it with very few symptoms.
Others, I know, suffer in ways different to me. We’re all unique and we react in
different ways, so to anyone about to start treatment my message is simple – it’s
worth it. Believe me, it’s worth
it.
