About this Blog

This blog started as an online diary and place for me to rant about annoyances in my family.

However since July it has become a place for me to catalogue and express my views and opinions on the treatment I have recieved following the diagnosis of a potentially cancerous tumor in my bowel.

On 3rd August 2011 I was told that it was cancerous. In April 2012 I was given the all clear.

October 15th 2013 I was diagnosed with peritoneal disease and liver metastases. The cancer was back and this time it is inoperable.

It is a little bit out of date as the NHS doesn't tend to have a WiFi connection in hospital and I can only post when I get home and posts take a while to write.

It is NOT about individuals or the nursing profession. It is about some of the inadequacies in the system and the way the NHS is failing some people.

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Wednesday, 14 March 2012

Goodbye and thanks for all...

The crap that you have inflicted on me over the last 6 months. 


If you are wondering what on earth I am talking about today is a day for celebrating. 


This morning I took my last handful of chemotherapy tablets which looked like this


and was looking forward to a morning 'bragging' about the fact that I no longer had to take chemotherapy. However things didn't quite go according to plan. As we were leaving the house to take Isaac to preschool he vomited all over the garden path so instead of having some adult conversation and lots of pats on the back I spent today watching this Thomas the Tank Engine film, which I can almost recite word for word and am planning on going on Mastermind with it as one of my specialist subjects and also a lot of cbeebies. 


The thing with Isaac and being sick is he seems to have 6 hour bugs. After the vomit he had a sleep any by 1pm was back to normal, demanding to do cooking, play on my iPad and building the Island of Sodor all over my living room floor. 


However this enforced sojourn at home gave me some time to reflect on my chemotherapy experience. 


The overwhelming feeling I have at the moment is a strange one. I feel like a bit of a failure and have been beating myself up over the fact that I couldn't tolerate more Oxaliplatin. I know I managed 4 sessions, but I was supposed to have 8. Ultimately I had to think of my children and the impact that the chemotherapy was having on them but I can't help thinking that if (or when, depending on what mood I am in) cancer comes back I will be thinking if I had continued the 'poxy oxi' would it have been better? 


Overall I have been very lucky and have not lost any of my hair, but there are worse side effects than that. 


I am still suffering some of the oxaliplatin side effects.Tonight I took a bag of chips out of the freezer and dropped them because my fingers went all tingly and numb. On top of that my hands and feet are raw and cracked and no amount of cocoa butter and cotton gloves and socks can sort out. Since January I have gone through 3 tubes of Norwegian Formula handcream and still I have splits all over my thumbs and fingers, but I still have to get on with it. Add into that the fact that walking feels like walking on glass unless I have insoles in my boots. 


And don't even get me started on the unpredictability of my bowels and the fact that this could be post surgery 'settling down' or a capcetibine side effect or some other thing that I hadn't even contemplated. 


I think my potty trained daughter sums it up best. Whenever she sits on the potty or the toilet do do a poo she tells me




'Big, Big  Scary  POO  mummy'