Showing posts with label steroid high. Show all posts
Showing posts with label steroid high. Show all posts

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Lean on me…


Day 118 

General status update

Fatigue/weakness: I’m too weak to write the general status update today, but the Chemo Demons are all perfectly fine, thank you.


FEC is not going to let me go easily, and today it just came and rugby-tackled me from behind: the nausea, the stomach pains and the quite overwhelming weakness and fatigue.

I am floored, even with the steroids: the Dexys give you an artificial mental high, but they can’t make the rest of your body work when it’s totally, totally FECked. Matron Becky warned me this might happen, going into my last dose of chemo when I was still feeling so very weak, and she was right. Today I didn’t even make it onto the sofa with Chemo Brian, I just spent the day lying on the bed; even getting into the shower and getting dressed seemed more than I could possibly manage.

But I could see it was such a beautiful sunny day outside, and in the end the need for air and light overcame the desire to stay horizontal: it was a monumental effort, but I got myself together and then got myself outside, and walked – OK, tottered - down to the river, which normally takes ten minutes, but today was more like twenty-five. I had to stop and rest on the way. When I got there, I collapsed onto the nearest bench I could find, and made no attempt to walk any further.

But I did get there: Fo -1, FEC - 0.

And I sat in the sun, and felt the breeze on my face, and that was so, so good. 

There’s lots of research saying that fresh air and exercise help a great deal with tolerating the side effects of chemo, and it’s true. Much as I love Chemo Brian, getting outside and moving around every day, even if only for a short while, is so important: and apart from the physical benefits, it stops you feeling like a prisoner.

R, who’d been out taking his little boy to the Science Museum, came and collected me from my bench, gave me a mild scolding for overtaxing myself, and walked me home.

I could have made it on my own, but it was so much better with his arm to hold on to.




Wednesday, March 20, 2013

World Mum


Day 101 

General status update

Chemo Muse: oh boy, did WE have a night – see below

Despair Demon: got a brief look in as I crashed and wept this morning after a night of steroid euphoria, but R gave me a cuddle and so he returned to his nest in the airing cupboard. Actually, I think he’s getting quite comfortable in there now – it’s roomy and VERY warm, and he’s made a comfy nest of towels.

Nausea demon: weakening – he let me lie in until 6am this morning, and then we had anti-emetic meds, tea and toast together.

Chemo Brian: he’s getting very excited about attending the private view of the David Bowie exhibition at the V&A with us on Friday. R and I are going to be having a rare day out together - accompanied by all my invisible friends, obvs.

Matron Becky: she has metamorphosed overnight into a figure of global significance who will Save the World from Patriarchy – see below

PICC line (deceased): I’m being haunted by a phantom PICC line - its ghost is hanging round my arm, and I keep thinking it’s still in place. Can’t get used to the new freedom.

State of mind: Boy, all these drugs are messing with my head – but at this stage of the chemo cycle that is a far, far better thing than have the chemo drugs messing with my stomach.

Anxiety level (1-10): my partially root-canalled tooth twing(e)ing again this morning, so I’ll be popping into the dentist later on - need I say more?

Hair: is hoping to address its long-term self-esteem problems with the help of the Mother Goddess – see below



Very, very late last night on Twitter.....



I am completely manic and off my head on the steroids - it's like I'm POSSESSED. But in a good way. So strange.
2:58 AM - 20 Mar 13 


Can't sleep, and soon either my brain is going to spontaneously combust or I'm going to start talking to God, I reckon.
  


And it'll be very interesting to hear what She thinks of Her new Pope, for a start.
 
  


@carolinefo I'm here! I'm awake. I'm slightly drunk and I feel like an idiot who just stepped onto court with Rafa Nadal. *waves bat*
3:13 AM - 20 Mar 13 



@PaolaOeste Excellent! I'm eating a Gü Key Lime pie, because The Steroids Want It. I may have another one in a minute..
 



@carolinefo The steroids are right. Limes prevented scurvy in generations of British seamen. It is therefore MEDICINE. In whatever form.
 



@PaolaOeste V.good point. I'd better have the second one, just to be absolutely sure of preventing the sudden onset of scurvy during the night.
3:37 AM - 20 Mar 13 ·



@PaolaOeste You can't be too careful in the circs - scurvy would delay my last dose of chemo, and my oncologist would be FURIOUS.
3:38 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@carolinefo COMPLETELY. Vit C is *so* important in cell structure  that, frankly, I'm amazed Gü Key Lime pie isn't handed out to all women
  




@PaolaOeste Yeah, I think we should suggest that to the government. Free Gü Key Lime Pie for all women would be BIG vote winner.
3:51 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 

 · 
  
@carolinefo I am so bloody impressed, btw, by how you have actually managed to change stuff through your blog. You're AMAZING.
3:45 AM - 20 Mar 13 ·


@carolinefo Also, Matron Becky (?) she's basically Batman.
3:45 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 


  
@PaolaOeste Yeah, she's FANTASTIC. I 'm hoping she'll adopt me. I'm older than her, but I don't see why that should stand between us.
3:49 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@carolinefo Matron Becky shall be made either New Pope or World Mum. Oh God. Just imagine, 2000 years of silly patriarchy aside, WORLD MUM.
3:56 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@PaolaOeste That idea is just FANTASTIC. Matron Becky perfect for World Mum. World Mum would wipe floor with ANY Pope.
3:59 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@carolinefo I am actually hugging myself with glee. When World Mum comes to Popetown. *rocks*
3:57 AM 4:00 AM - 20 Mar 13 ·



@carolinefo *freaks out at the idea of World Mum* (I'm imagining my mum here) (aargh)
4:00 AM - 20 Mar 13



@PaolaOeste Ah, but Matron Becky will be the ÜberMum - the Mother Goddess. She will not tell you your hair looks bad.
4:01 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@carolinefo *weeps* my crap, fine, unstyleable hair shall be accepted!



@PaolaOeste Mine too! Mine Too! Even the chemo didn't want my hair..
4:06 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@carolinefo I am basically *sucking* my fine hair into my head by willpower so yours will stay. *does lemon face*
  



@PaolaOeste that is very, very supportive of you. Still holding my breath in case it goes after dose 6.
  


  
@carolinefo I'm ready to build idols and make bonfires for World Mum Becky.
4:04 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 


@PaolaOeste Yes!!! She Shall Rule!
4:06 AM - 20 Mar 13 · Details


  
@PaolaOeste Now wondering how to explain disappearance of BOTH Gü Key Lime Pies to R tomorrow. Will say Mother Goddess told me to do it.
4:05 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@carolinefo But the Patriarchy would have had you utterly powerless. World Mum empowered you to nourish yourself. NO FRICKIN CONTEST.
4:07 AM - 20 Mar 13 



I think I might have to lie down now @PaolaOeste going a bit woozy xxx
4:14 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 



@carolinefo Sleep well, darls. World Mum will take care of you. xx
4:15 AM - 20 Mar 13 · 





Tuesday, March 19, 2013

100 Days of Chemo Nights


Day 100 

General status update:
FEC  cycle 5, day 6

Nausea demon: he’s feeling rather emasculated, and deeply depressed - we had an extraordinarily early breakfast together in the breaking light of dawn, as is usual, but he is having to accept that the extra steroids this cycle have made him lose his edge.

Chemo Nano-Rats: you remember the screaming toxic horror of my stomach in the earlier cycles, right? Well, with the Omeprazole and extra steroids combo, the power of the Chemo Nano-Rats has also been reduced, to say 40% of their former strength. This makes the difference between side effects that are head-bangingly, screamingly unbearable, for this worst week of the chemo cycle, and side effects that are unpleasant but tolerable. This makes the difference between me being a howling, tormented lab rat, running around the flat in acute distress, or curled up in a foetal position and weeping uncontrollably, and me being a human being having a moderately unpleasant time, but managing to get on with everyday activities. Please note, other patients who may be experiencing similar problems. Learn from my stupidity.
Get help at an earlier stage of the proceedings.

Chemo Muse: we’re back on track after yesterday’s little emotional blip, and she has really had me motoring today, in all manner of energetic activity. We are the Dexy Sisters – we rock!

Despair Demon: the Chemo Muse has bundled him back in the airing cupboard again, but given the precarious and temporary nature of steroid-fuelled good spirits and energy, he’s just waiting for another little crash so he can get back to work again.

Super-Senses: my sense of smell has gone ballistic again this cycle – through the open window of my study I can smell every item of food that is being cooked in a four hundred yard radius of Brook Green, W6. But now I know what it is like to be a dog. Except that dogs find the smells attractive.

Chemo Brian: he’s not getting much of a look in at the moment, what with all the lovely steroids. I’ve been going like a maniac again today. Maybe tomorrow, Brian. We’ll get in a bit of serious sofa time soon, I promise.

State of mind: Planning world domination – together with the Dexys and the Chemo Muse, ANYTHING is possible.

Anxiety level (1-10): I’m whizzzzzzzzzzing. You can’t be anxious when you whizzzzzzzzzzzzzzing, can you?

Hair: still hangin’ on in there. Seems to be feeling a bit neglected, what with the now almost total lack of attention after having been the star of the show for so long, but trying to put a brave face on it.



Well, the title of today’s post says it all: this is Chemo Nights, Day 100.

It seems a good time to review progress so far, doesn’t it?

Much to my surprise, I’ve actually managed to write a blog post here on Chemo Nights every day for the last 100 days, starting the evening before my first chemotherapy treatment, when I was ricocheting off the walls with sheer terror; I started writing it to see if that would help me keep sane through what I knew was going to be a truly horrible time – which it has been, and it’s by no means finished yet. The verdict on my current level of sanity is still out, I’d say – but the daily deadline for the blog has certainly kept me occupied and focused at a time when I could have been feeling not just ill and distressed, but also without purpose, so it’s definitely helped a great deal.

I made the blog’s subtitle ‘100 days of chemotherapy’, because it sounded snappy, but six cycles of chemo is actually 18 weeks, or 126 days, and one cycle was delayed for a week, because I had an infection, and so by the time my chemo experience finishes, 21 days after the sixth and final dose on (God willing, inshallah, may there be no more infections to come) Thursday 4th April, it will be the 25th of April, and 134 days of Chemo Nights.

It’s turned out to be a much bigger enterprise than I first thought and I’m pretty tired now, both from the cumulative exhaustion engendered by the chemotherapy drugs, and by the effort of the daily writing, which has sometimes been very hard to keep up (some days I really lost it and it was only R’s encouragement that kept me going – he is an excellent motivatorbut I want to keep it going to the end, partly because I have more things to say on various cancer-related topics apart from the day to day record of living through chemo, and partly because I want it to be a complete documentation of the FEC chemotherapy regimen from the first day to the last, to provide a comprehensive reference tool for other patients coming to it later, who can learn from my mistakes and misunderstandings, which have been manifold. My experience could have been a lot easier in many ways, which I only know in hindsight, and I hope very much that others can use my experience to make their own less difficult.

I’m happy to say that the blog has acquired quite a sizeable following: it has had about 42,000 hits so far, and is read by 500-600 people  a day - the audience mainly came via Twitter in the first instance. It now has a wide readership including many doctors and nurses, and medical anthropologists and sociologists – as well as other cancer patients and all my friends on Twitter and Facebook.  An extract from the blog has just been printed in a Canadian academic journal of Bioethics - they feel that the modality of this kind of direct reportage of the patient experience is a highly useful one for medical education, in giving access that cannot be gained through more conventional academic writing.

My hospital, the Charing Cross Hospital in Hammersmith, has also taken note of the blog, and I was recently contacted by the Head of Cancer Nursing at the Imperial College Healthcare Trust, of which it forms part, to request my permission to use material from the blog relating to both good and bad experiences of patient care at the hospital as part of their on-going training programmes for medical staff in improving the patient experience. This has already been implemented for the first time at a session a couple of weeks ago. There has also now been one change to hospital procedure after problems I have highlighted in the blog; I’m very happy to say that Charing Cross has taken a very positive attitude to the blog and responded very well to my criticisms.

Simultaneously, I have been raising money for the Haven Breast Cancer Care Centres by asking people to sponsor my chemotherapy treatment, the rationale for which was set out in this blog post back in December

The basic idea is that if you're fed up with being asked  for sponsorship to fund the gap year projects of spoiled teenagers who should be getting a job to pay for their travels, or sponsoring people to do things that they'd rather like to do anyway (abseiling down the Amazon, etc.), why not instead sponsor someone to do something that is the last thing in the world they want to do - endure the hell that is chemotherapy treatment -  and, in so doing , raise money for the truly excellent cause of The Haven Breast Cancer Care Centres, which provide such amazing support to those going through breast cancer. This is, as far as I know, the world’s first ever sponsored chemo: the Haven certainly hadn’t come across one before!

It’s also quite certainly the first ever hamster-sponsored chemo: I discovered belatedly this morning that a certain ‘Jason’, who sponsored me some weeks ago, was actually the pet hamster of my friend @aliceturner on Twitter, who in December won the Chemo Nights award for  'Best Rodent In Snood'. OK, it should perhaps have been a clue that Jason's message was 'I very much admire your elegant snood'. I am rather slow sometimes.

As of today, after 100 days of chemotherapy treatment, I’ve raised £1250.75 so far for the Haven, which makes me very happy indeed - as I have written elsewhere , the Haven has helped me enormously, right from the early days after my diagnosis of cancer back in September of last year.

A thousand quid isn’t bad, but I’d really like to do more, so I’m going to try and get a bit more publicity for the blog, and hopefully attract some new readers and more sponsorship for the chemo – so if there’s anyone out there who has been meaning to sponsor me, but never got round to it, it’s not too late!

This is the link to my Virgin Giving Fundraising page:

And, while I’m at it, I’d just like to thank all those who have very generously donated so far – I am very behind with my thank you emails, but you will all get one in the end. It has truly helped me in enduring the horror of the chemo to know that something good is coming of it  - I will never know if the chemo has helped me or not, because that’s not how it works at this stage of the technology, although if the cancer comes back I’ll know that it didn’t work – and I am so grateful to you all not only for donating, but for giving me this psychological boost as well, when morale has been at times so very low. 

To end this 100 day review I’d also like to thank all those people have responded to the blog – which is many times more than those appearing in the comments section,  because most people prefer to respond by email, or on Twitter or Facebook. I’ve ‘met’ so many interesting people, and received so much support and encouragement, and have been delighted to know from other people dealing with cancer, either as patients or as the relatives of patients, that the blog has proved useful and comforting to others in a situation where you often feel so terribly helpless and alone.

I’ve also been receiving wonderful support from my family and friends, both in the UK and in my former home of Ayvalik, on the north Aegean coast of Turkey, and all my amazing Twitter friends, who have helped keep me going by sending me photos and messages and jokes and presents, so that even on the darkest days there has always been something there to cheer me and make me smile. I am a very lucky woman indeed.

I can’t thank you all enough, and it makes me cry just to think about it.

I wouldn't be surviving this at all, of course, without R – he is the light of my life, my greatest support, my love and my best friend. In the last six months of cancer hell, in a relatively new relationship, we have been sorely tried, and it has been unbelievably hard for him, but he has always been there for me, and kept me going, as I have tried to keep him going. There are simply no words adequate to express how I feel about R.

We’re not out of the woods yet, by a long chalk, but at least the end of the chemo is in sight, and things are looking a lot brighter this week than they have for a very long time –  there are another 34 days of  chemo to go, and I hope you’ll keep reading Chemo Nights to the very end.

Thank you.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Crash and burn (reprise)


Day 99 

General status update

Nausea demon: we saw in the dawn again together this morning, but the extra steroids and the Omeprazole are definitely helping – this cycle the various stomach side effects are not nearly as acute as in previous cycles. Physical and mental distress significantly decreased. Thank you again, Roma and Becky.

Despair Demon: he escaped from the airing cupboard and accompanied me to the hospital today – it didn’t go well.

Chemo Muse: she rather overdid it yesterday; even she admits that.

Fatigue/exhaustion: acute. It’s getting worse every cycle, and hitting earlier in each cycle.

Chemo Brian: I’ll be joining him on the sofa very shortly – even with the extra steroids day 5 of FEC is bad bad BAD

State of mind: unimpressive

Anxiety level (1-10): ramping up again, on all fronts.

Hair: whatever

  
Had I only retained the sense I was born with, as MamaFo has so very often been heard to say (inscrutable north Yorkshire sayings, no 79), I would have postponed my radiotherapy planning meeting at the hospital today: even with the help of extra steroids, Day 5 of the chemo cycle is not a good one on which to interact with people, especially in a hospital environment with highly skilled medical professionals intent upon performing on you yet more physically intrusive procedures with unpleasant side effects.

I thought the meeting was just to talk about the radiotherapy, which will irradiate my right breast, from where the cancer tumour was removed, in order to prevent a local reoccurrence of the cancer in the same breast –

If you had a lumpectomy without radiotherapy afterwards, there would be a 40 -50% chance of breast cancer returning in the breast; with radiotherapy, the probability of a local reoccurrence is only about 4 - 5%. So the lumpectomy allows you to save your breast, but you can’t really have it without radiotherapy as well – that’s the price you pay for not having a mastectomy and losing your whole breast. The radiotherapy, locally targeted, is thus  quite separate from the chemotherapy treatment, which is systemic and aimed at picking up any circulating tumour cells that may have already drifted into your blood system before the tumour was removed.

- but it turned out that they needed to do a scan of my breast, and draw markers on it, and make calculations as to where exactly in my breast to target the radiation, and as the very pleasant and helpful radiotherapist talked me through all this I could feel my upper lip beginning to tremble, and inside my head I was shouting No! I don’t want ANYONE DOING ANY MORE STUFF TO ME! Just leave me and my body alone now!

I managed not to cry until she went out of the room for a couple of minutes to check something, but then I completely lost it and sat there, tears streaming down my face, thinking I really can’t do any more of this, why can’t they just leave me alone for a bit now, I’m full of poison from the chemo and as soon as that stops, they’re going to nuke me and burn me with the radiation.

Yeah, I think we can say I crashed a little today, Dexys or no Dexys.

As it happened, we had to the postpone the scan, anyway, because I need to go away in early May, back to my former home on the north Aegean  coast of Turkey – an important, long pre-planned engagement involving other people, coming from the USA, organised before my cancer diagnosis. I asked the radiotherapist if the treatment could be postponed for two weeks until late May, and she said that the scan would also then need to be postponed, as 2 months ahead is too long in advance to do it. She is going to confer with my oncology consultant about the delay, and get back to me.

I hope the oncologist is going to be OK with this – until a couple of days ago, I had thought I was just going to have to cancel the whole thing, that I wouldn’t be strong enough to do a big trip so soon after chemo, but then this weekend I thought ‘Sod it – I’ve had six months of hell, of my life totally taken over by the cancer, of belonging to the hospital – surely I can have just this two weeks back for myself?’

I know I’m not thinking very straight at the moment – a weekend of steroid mania, now a big emotional collapse – but I just quite desperately need a break now, after the chemo finishes, and since this trip had been planned long before the cancer struck, it seems right to go ahead with it if I possibly can.




In Ayvalik, where May is warm and sunny, I will be able to sit in the courtyard at the Camel Barn, with a cat dozing on my lap, and get something of myself back. This image has been in my mind again and again over the last few months as I have tried to escape mentally from what has been happening to me by visualising happier places: my old Lloyd loom chair  under the olive tree, the sun, the cat, the soft pink Sarimsakli stone of the the old stone walls of the barn.

picture not posed by a model - that is my actual cat, Ollie, currently being very well cared for by a friend

The Aegean spring is the thing I miss most about my old life - it is incomparable.  A walk through the olive groves filled with wild flowers would do me more good right now than all the chemotherapy and radiotherapy in the world....




I do hope they’ll let me go. 



Friday, March 15, 2013

Rollercoaster


Day 96 

General status update

Despair Demon: the Dexy-fuelled Chemo Muse ambushed him early this morning, tied him up, and imprisoned him in the airing cupboard. At least it’s nice and warm in there.

Nausea demon: On the floor at the moment, bludgeoned by the IV Fosapprepitant, the steroids (which do combat the nausea, as well as making me high, remember), and the Ondansetron, Domperidone and Cyclizine anti-emetic drugs I have taken orally this morning. He’s just biding his time though, until Sunday, when the steroids wear off.

Chemo Muse: When we get steroided up on the Dexys after each dose of chemo, she expands like a genie coming out a bottle, and fills the room in a shimmering, swirling cloud of mist threaded with iridescent rainbow lights gleaming from the long, writhing snakes of her hair. (what can I say; I’m on drugs, alright? There have to be SOME good bits in the chemo nightmare). She is very, very powerful this morning, as a result of which I wrote 500 words before 8am.

Chemo Brian: gazing in awe at the newly-psychedelic Chemo Muse, and muttering about how she reminds him of a particularly wild mescaline trip he took with Aldous Huxley in the Sonoma Desert back in the day. Jesus, HOW OLD is Chemo Brian? I thought he was just an old hippy – he was at Woodstock, after all – but if he was hanging with Aldous he must be an old proto-hippy. Ah, good point – Chemo Demons aren’t mortal, are they? Chemo Brian is the Stoner for All Ages.

PICC line: in disgrace after it refused to function in the Chemo Ward yesterday, even for Matron Becky, after behaving perfectly 3 times over the last 10 days and gushing blood like a geyser in Yellowstone Park. We both looked at it, completely aghast. thinking ‘I JUST DO NOT BELIEVE THIS’. It’s claiming to be suffering from intolerable levels of stress and performance anxiety because of the increasingly high expectations heaped upon it. ‘Yeah, but you can hardly say that this HASN’T HAPPENED BEFORE, CAN YOU’ muttered Becky, darkly, as she prepared yet another injection of saline solution to flush it with. Actually, given that it had two assertive and increasingly pissed off women staring at it with increasing fury every time it failed to perform yesterday, maybe it’s not surprising it couldn’t get it up…

State of mind: only one more FEC to go, only one more FEC to go, only one more FEC to go!!!! Sorry, did you say something?

Hair: Dozing gently, as per post-Cold cap protocol, in snood and Smurf hat. It loves this bit of the cycle.



I wrote all of the above very early this morning in a mad burst of steroid-fuelled energy and then paused, intending to write the actual blog post this afternoon. I had to go off to the hospital first for another of those very expensive Pegfilgrastim injections to boost the production of neutrophils in my bone marrow, to strengthen my immune system and keep me infection-free during this chemo cycle. Because I’ve had two infections during the first four chemo cycles, the oncologist is very concerned to prevent any more from taking hold.

At the hospital two very good things happened – it was probably my best hospital visit ever, but unfortunately I can’t write about it now because my energy has crashed completely.

I’ve become so weak all of a sudden that I just have to go and lie down.

This is the Way of Chemo: sometimes the fatigue hits you so hard that your body tells you ‘Lie down – NOW’ and you simply cannot do anything else.

Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the good things that happened – at least those regular readers who have suffered with me every inch of the way through the last 14 weeks will know, for once, that tomorrow there is a cheerful post to look forward to.

Unless something bad happens during the night, that is, a possibility which can’t be entirely ruled out, given the run of luck I’ve had so far.

See you tomorrow, my friends.