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Showing posts from November, 2015

Floored by fatigue

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“I was so exhausted I had to lie down for 20 minutes after thinking about brushing my teeth.”

Chemo patients often have war stories about their battles with fatigue – played out in the style of the Four Yorkshiremen – and that’s my contribution.

The first round of chemo left me largely unscathed, but this past week the second round has hit me hard. The all-encompassing body-and-mind fatigue that has left me whiling away that hours in bed has been more debilitating than anything I have experienced before.

The complete lack of physical energy makes it difficult to perform even the most basic tasks, and the absence of mental energy makes creative thought difficult to achieve. Sleep provides little relief, but nothing else does either.

The numbing fatigue turns small achievements into major victories. After a quarter hour psyching myself up to empty the dishwasher, I rewarded this act of domestic heroism with a half-hour rest.

The medical advice to us chemo patients is to stay active, eve…

The path to my heart

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The second round of chemotherapy drugs have just been infused, and so far the side-effects have been tolerable. As I was going through the round of treatment it struck me that the whole process could be explained well with a series of haiku poems. Enjoy.

The path to my heart Runs directly through my groin. At least it does now.
With a jab and poke The surgeon has created An express route north.
And through the passage, For five days in twenty-one, Flows liquid saviour.
Like those that follow, The day begins with a 'roid – Breakfast of champions.
Appetite whetted, I head from home to ward, where Professionals loom.
Friendly smiles greet Those who pass the saloon’s doors; Hope mixed with pity.
Atop an arm chair I get myself comfortable. Position assumed.
EPOCH’s my order With a side of R for some Sweetness, extra tang.
A chemo barman Can turn this toxic combo Into sweet nectar.
(But before we start A little pill for nausea Lest lunch go to waste.)
First, Rituximab Zero-ing in on B…

The new normal

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Tony is usually a man of few words. An old-school barber with an earthy beard and some weathered tatts on his neck, he is damn good at getting the job done with calm confidence and maximum discretion. So when I came in for my two-monthly cut on Tuesday and told him I wanted it off, all off, he was unfazed. “You see, um, it’s like this,” I half-spoke, half-whispered awkwardly. “I’ve been diagnosed with, um, cancer and the chemo means it’s all coming out. I figured I might as well get in early.”

Ever the cool professional, Tony sat me in the chair and draped me theatrically in a black smock. He reached for the clippers – this would be a number 1 cut – and got to work. Within minutes the salt-and-pepper (mostly pepper) locks from my head had gathered on my lap in the smock and my head’s full roundness was on display, with only a thin layer of hair remaining on top. When it came to shaving, I warned of the dangers of a blade given the blood-thinner I’d been taking, so instead Tony gave me…

Seeking to battle the dragon

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Super Mario Bros aficionados of the original Nintendo era will remember a certain comforting rhythm to the game. The objective was to slay the dragon each fourth level, and in doing so seek to liberate a princess. But to gain the chance to take on the dragon you needed to confront various minor villains along the way, from Goomba toadstools to Koopa Troopa turtles to weapon-wielding Hammer Brothers, all while navigating rough terrain and preserving health and wealth. But should these challenges prove too demanding a player would never even reach a dragon and the princess would forever remain captive.

Right now the chances for me to battle my dragon are proving rather elusive. Desperate as I am to unsheathe my sword and deliver a strong first blow, instead I find myself in close combat with more pesky minor enemies along the way.


A biopsy on the lump in my mediastinum a few weeks back appears to have caused some complications relating to my lungs. This has left me with a pneumothorax, …

Reasons to be grateful

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I'm writing on the sixth day of an unscheduled hospital stay, so clearly treatment has got off to a rocky start. I'll write more about that another time, but for this post I want to focus on some of the positive things that have captured my imagination since the diagnosis.
If you ever doubt that you're part of a community, tell the world you have cancer and see what response you get.
Since I shared my news I've been filled with gratitude for the people, institutions and science that have given me such hope for the future. It is hard not to appreciate the privilege of which you benefit when you experience so many things fall into place so effortlessly to support a person suddenly in need.
When I was diagnosed a few weeks ago I wasn't sent home to die in dignity. Instead I was given the expertise of world-class professionals, access to state-of-the-art medical science, fantastic offers of support from family, friends and colleagues and an overwhelming confidence that Th…