One Year On...

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.