Jingle bells

It is almost Christmas – and that means that I am just finishing cycle six. It is funny how your point of view changes with circumstances. Most people are furiously wrapping presents, decorating the house (or office), planning (or recovering from) the office night out or any other of the million things that need to be done at this time of year. I am doing the same sort of things, but all of it is overshadowed and underpinned (a bit of overkill there J) by the fact that in June this year, I didn't know if I was going to be here at all.

As it is I am doing just about as well as I could be. It does change your point of view though – I guess there are some people out there who can identify with this, but it is an odd feeling. This is the traditional time of year both for reflection and forward looking. The last six months has been interesting, strange, unsettling, frightening, tiring and probably lots of other 'ings' that I can't think of at the moment, but looking back at the moment the main impression is 'normal' – and that sounds strange.

This has been a conscious decision though. Just after I came out of hospital, before the chemo started, I was just starting back at work. I came home from work one day to take a phone call from my GP. He had just heard through the grapevine that I had started back at work and he was concerned about me. At that time I had just recovered (or was still recovering) from major surgery and been diagnosed with cancer. This was the point where they were still trying to decide whether it was Stage 4 cancer, with a 5% chance of survival and spreading to my lymph system and liver or Stage 2 which had been totally removed, with an 80% chance of it never returning (it turns out it is the second).

Anyway, the conversation went sort of like this:

GP: I hear that you have started back at work

Me: (cautiously) yes.

GP: Why have you decided to g back to work then? Most people would just take the six months off – and I will happily sign a sick note for you.

Me: Hmmmmm, tempting!

GP: Do you want me to do it then?

Me: No. I want to go back to work.

GP: Why?

Me: Well, there are two main reasons (actually there were three - the reason I didn't give him was that I was starting to get bored watching daytime TV, but that was never going to wash). First, My Company have been very good to me. They have not questioned me and have said that I can do what I want (not quite their words, but that is what they meant). I know that there will be times later (in the chemo) that I will not be quite so willing or able to work, so I don't want to take advantage of them.

GP: Rubbish

Me: Well, the other reason is that I want to make life as normal as possible. My family have just had a big shock and we need to get life back to normal. They are going to return to school soon (it was the beginning of August at this time), and Helen is going to start her new job. When they are all getting up and dressed to go to work/school I don't want to be lying around feeling sorry for myself, I want them to see me getting up and putting on my suit and going to work too. It will give me something to aim for too.

GP: OK. That reason is one that I will accept – in fact I think you are probably right.

So I have been working most days (well mornings). Obviously I have not worked when I have had a chemo day (a day in the hospital on the drip) and there have been days when I have not been able to get out of bed – but not as many as you might think. In fact, being in IT there is a lot of stuff that I can do remotely, and indeed there is some stuff that has to be done out of hours (rebooting servers is not normally done during the working day) so I end up logging on remotely to get this sort of stuff done (you people who just expect email to work don't know what goes on in the background).

Looking forward, life is still tainted by this, and it always will. I read a book by Lance Armstrong, who won the Tour de France winner seven times in a row, after recovering from cancer. He says that you never stop being a cancer survivor and I guess that is true. I will always be in the system now. I will have check-ups for the rest of my life, starting just after I finish the chemo in February.

But life has to go on. We are looking at our options for holidays next year (having missed our holidays for the last two years). They are limited by travel insurance – it goes through the roof for a cancer survivor, so much so that we may just ignore it, or only get insurance for the other five. We fancy going to France, close to where we were due to go earlier this year, or possibly somewhere more exotic, but that starts to get really expensive. We haven't decided – and this is unusual since we normally know where we are going to go by Christmas. If someone wants to give us a holiday (including insurance), all offers will be gratefully received!

I am also looking to the day when I start work full-time again (and so is my boss). I don't know when this will be – presumably sometime after the chemo has finished, but I don't know how long after. I have a pile of projects just waiting to get started and I don't have the time to do them just now.

I think that is enough for now.

If I haven't spoken to you or sent a Christmas card, then I wish you a Happy Christmas and a peaceful New Year.

Graham

Only so many times

Only so many times

 

 

Account    Graham's blog

 

People have been talking!

Whispers in the kitchen at work and conversations behind closed doors!

What has happened to Graham's Blog? Why has he not been updating it? Is he actually going to keep us in the dark, after all he promised?

Well, no I am not, but it gets a bit boring saying the same thing week after week…. I am sorry that it has taken me so long to bring everyone up to date. (Ok I will admit that it is a bit of an exaggeration about the whispered conversations and stuff).

I have just looked back at the last post and seen that it is a warning about spam emails, and that the last cancer update was from the 6^th October. That puts it just over six weeks ago, in the middle of Cycle 3. I am almost in the same part of Cycle 5 at the moment. Looking back over the changes in symptoms over the cycles I guess it has been like this.

Cycle 1 and Cycle 2 were relatively easy (albeit with a minor wobble at the end of Cycle 1). The symptoms were relatively innocuous and not too trying. The pins and needles pretty much disappeared after 36 or 48 hours and did not trouble me after that.

With Cycle 3 and Cycle 4 there was a step change. The symptoms themselves were not particularly worse, but rather they lasted much longer. The pins and needles lasted pretty much a full week, before they disappeared. There was also the insomnia that appeared during the first week along with constipation. I thought that this was brought on by the steroids that I take during that first week of the cycle, but after talking to the nurses and the consultant (more of this later) last week, it looks like this is caused by a different drug – one (one tablet) that I take once a cycle, just before the hospital visit. It seems to have a massive effect on my system – not just these symptoms, but it also affects my moods.

I am noticing that I am more short tempered. I find that I have to bite my tongue when people don't or can't see things my way. This is definitely not anyone else's fault. People are not any more obtuse or stupid that week – it is all me. I try not to take it out on the kids, but I guess that every now and again a bit trickles out.

The other thing that I notice is a bit harder to describe. I seem to be detached from reality at times. I see things as though through a tunnel, or a pair of binoculars. Time seems to slow down and my reactions seem to be much more pointed and precise. No one else has mentioned this so I am assuming that this is just my (heightened, over-active) imagination.

I don't want to make this seem more worrying than it actually is. This tends to affect me during this first week of the cycle and disappears after that. It lasts for about tem or fifteen minutes and probably twice or three times during the week, although it is cumulative over the cycles.

At the beginning of Cycle 5 I had an appointment with my Oncologist. Actually, I only met Dr Phillips for about two minutes before I started the chemo and haven't seen him since. That sounds very stand-offish, but I transferred to his care just before the start of the course – I had been under a different consultant at the Western, before coming under Dr Phillips at SJH.

Anyway, I had an appointment about a week ago. He asked a few questions that did shed a bit of light on the way I have been feeling and reacting. It's Official – the general outlook is good – my symptoms are at the mild end of the spectrum and I am reacting well so far. He asked me if my appetite had changed, and looking back at it I guess that it has. In particular, I think I have developed a sweet tooth (or more of a sweet tooth), but I think the steroids have increased my appetite anyway – again, I know I was not a particular nibbler – more of a grazer I suppose, but I think I am still eating more.

Cycle 5 is about half way through. Again the pins and needles are back and probably another step change from Cycles 3 / 4, although not as big a step as the one between Cycles 2 and 3. They are still affecting me just now, although almost gone, but this is day 9 / 10. My hands have also been tenderer, and I have had to go and buy slippers, much to my disgust. We have laminate floors and I can feel the pins and needles in my feet in the mornings.

I am grateful to Ian Wallace, who has been taking me to work in the mornings, when it has been cold. This has been really helpful and makes life easier for me, although not necessarily for him, since I have dragged him away from work to take me home in the middle of the day.

Now for a slight change. One of the reasons for writing this was to help other cancer sufferers, particularly ColoRectal cancer. Colorectal cancer is the third most common type of cancer in the UK, after Breast cancer and Lung cancer. Having said that I have not heard, until recently, of anyone else who has been diagnosed with this cancer. As it happens, I heard of a relative of one of Helens' work colleagues who is about to start her treatment. She is older than me (about 60) and lives over in the west. She has had virtually the same operation as I had and is about to start pretty much the same chemo. I don't know if she will ever read this, but I would like to think that other sufferers will and will feel stronger for it.

As part of that I decided to find out other people who have (or had) colorectal cancer. Probably the highest profile person is Sharon Osbourne. I knew she had survived cancer, but it was only recently that I discovered that it was Colon cancer. I don't know any more than that, but there you go.

Other people are Terry Jones (from Monty Python) and Tony Snow (President Bush's press spokesman - no, I hadn't heard of him either, but he is the man who stands up and speaks for Bush) and Farrah Fawcett. Steve McQueen developed cancer from exposure to asbestos, which moved into his colon. He died of heart failure, after an operation to remove this tumour. Another person who has had a scare is Bush himself. It turns out that he had tests recently, but it was not cancer.

Life just goes on as normal. I know that people are interested in me and how I am getting on. I am very humbled by this interest – I am pretty sure that I don't deserve it but it is encouraging all the same. It does get boring saying (or writing) the same thing week after week, but I will try to keep this blog more up to date in the future.

 

Thanks

 

Graham

It should be obvious, but….

I received this today in a blog written by Microsoft employee. Have a look at the points he makes at the end - they are mostly common sense. I suppose it is a bit ironic that he received this, but it should be a timely reminder to everyone……

<snip>

I had this waiting for me on my home PC this morning.

From: Microsoft [mailto:customerservice@microsoft.com]
Sent: 10 October 2008 02:25
To: {My home account}
Subject: Security Update for OS Microsoft Windows

Dear Microsoft Customer,

Please notice that Microsoft company has recently issued a Security Update for OS Microsoft Windows. The update applies to the following OS versions:

Microsoft Windows 98, Microsoft Windows 2000, Microsoft Windows Millenium, Microsoft Windows XP, Microsoft Windows Vista.

Please notice, that present update applies to high-priority updates category. In order to help protect your computer against security threats and performance problems, we strongly recommend you to install this update.

Since public distribution of this Update through the official website http://www.microsoft.com would have result in efficient creation of a malicious software, we made a decision to issue an experimental private version of an update for all Microsoft Windows OS users.

As your computer is set to receive notifications when new updates are available, you have received this notice.

In order to start the update, please follow the step-by-step instruction:

1. Run the file, that you have received along with this message.

2. Carefully follow all the instructions you see on the screen.

If nothing changes after you have run the file, probably in the settings of your OS you have an indication to run all the updates at a background routine. In that case, at this point the upgrade of your OS will be finished.

We apologize for any inconvenience this back order may be causing you.

Thank you,

Steve Lipner

Director of Security Assurance

Microsoft Corp.

-----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE-----

Version: PGP 7.1

Now there are a number of things which jump out and say THIS IS A FAKE , notably the greeting "Dear Customer" [someone who has your email address but not your name is suspicious for starters], the grammatical errors and clumsy English the incorrect names. Also the fact that when you sign up for Windows update, Microsoft don't get your e-mail address.  I give it a plausibility rating of about 3 out 10. But this seems a good time to remind people Never, ever run executables which arrive unexpectedly by mail. Outlook has blocked executables for since about 2002 so I didn't get to see what the file was – although it was named to make it look like a valid patch.

The same rules apply to mails which tell you to go to a web site and enter information. My bank, e-bay and paypal have all said much the same thing. "If we need you to do something on-line we will send you a mail which addresses you by name, and says go to the normal web site, log on normally and then follow these steps. Anything which says dear customer, click this link and enter private information is a fake."

YOU probably know this already. By all means warn people about this specific mail, but far better to remind people you know who might be taken in of these basic rules.

<end snip>

Rights and Responsibilities

This post was supposed to be finished weeks ago and would have a brief symptoms update – I know that there are people on the edge of their seats, just waiting to hear all the gory details. If you are one of these disturbed people, skip on to the end – just don't forget to come back to this bit, to read my rant (sorry about the length by the way).

Ok, back again? This may end up being a bit of a soap box, and if you feel offended, I am sorry, but this is something that I have been turning over in my mind for a while now.

As I mentioned I was watching The Secret Millionaire on C4 – I don't know what it says about me and my TV habits but I do enjoy that show. It got me thinking about people doing good, to help other people. For those who don't lower themselves to watch this show, it involves a multi-millionaire leaving their expensive, comfort filled lifestyle and moving to some far-flung, run-down town, that they have a faint connection with. They typically move into a cheap B & B for ten days or so and then spend their time going round trying to find some worthy person or cause who they volunteer to help for a day or two, all the while getting to know the people who form the backbone of these social enterprises.

This particular episode involved a pensioner who has run a boxing club for the last forty years, a woman who takes homeless people and helps them out while they are in council B & B and also wants to set up a social housing renovation scheme and two men who help out with this scheme. All of these are worthy causes – the boxing club gives the young teenage boys somewhere to go and gives them some discipline, rather than leaving them on the streets in the evening. The social housing scheme is obvious, in a run-down seaside town (as this was) and the two blokes provided a lot of the organisation and muscle to get this off the ground (I think that is how it was anyway).

At the end of the show, they (the millionaire) typically re-visit the new friends they have made, reveal their secret (that they are actually a millionaire) and then write a large cheque for whichever club/volunteer they are visiting.

The premise of the show is that these people have no responsibility for the people they meet, but through their shared experience the millionaire forms a bond with them and helps their new friends – all very nice, and it does make entertaining, heart-warming TV.

But here is my point. My argument or more strictly, question is "Never mind Human Rights, what about Human Responsibilities?"

Society today is very aware of Human Rights. There is never a day goes past (well maybe a week) without some story in the papers or on the news about someone who is suing someone else over their Human Rights. Prisoners in jail, seem to whip out the Human Rights Act like some sort of Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card (sometimes literally) because they don't have energy saving light bulbs in their cell, or they don't have 24 hour-a-day access to a PS3 or hot and cold running women.

Why are there shows like "The Secret Millionaire"? Don't we all (and I know that I am definitely at fault here) have a Human Responsibility to look after others that are less well off than ourselves. I need to stress here that I am not just talking financially here, but inevitably money does come into it. I am talking about more than that.

Why do we see adverts on the TV for a charity running a Home for Retired Aardvarks in Outer Mongolia, when there are people here in the UK who are stuck at home because they don't have anyone to take them out, even to the supermarket, never mind to the pub for a drink.

Why do we feel it is ok to spend thousands of pounds on a bigger plasma TV or laser eye surgery or breast implants, when we neglect the people in our own streets and towns?

Why, as a society, are we hung up on the rights of a man (person) in jail (of course they do have rights), when they have, at best, completely ignored the rights of their victims and at worst maliciously destroyed the rights of the victims that they have beaten, raped or murdered. Maybe I am being obvious, but surly being murdered would be a breach of your Human Rights.

We are friends with a young man – he is a teenager, and lives in foster care. The boy that he shares a room with, also fostered, is a druggy and either spends his day smoking (sometimes cigarettes) and steeling bikes - he stole a bike to give to our friend as a birthday present- strange sense of loyalty. Our friend has no idea where this bike came from!

Let us call him Jemima to protect his identity. He was abandoned by his father when he was about five. His mother lost the plot (and her marbles) about two years ago and chucked him out of the house. His grandmother also has a history of mental illness. After two years in foster care his grandfather agreed to take him and care for him. This was acceptable both to Jemima and Social Services. Arrangements were made and all was going smoothly. Suddenly his Step-Grandmother backed out on the pretext that both his mother and (real) grandmother were mentally ill and that he may inherit this "condition" and that this may adversely affect her five-year-old (Jemima's step-uncle I suppose).

There is absolutely no reason to think that this is even likely to happen – you would be hard pushed to meet a more normally balanced teenager, considering the rejection this bloke has suffered - but this woman was selfishly thinking of herself. Of course there are two sides to every story and this is only one side of this one, so I shouldn't judge, but still…..

I think we live in a selfish society – I know I see it in myself, and try to fight the signs daily. Everything is about "Me, Me, Me!" We want the newest, biggest, loudest, shiniest thing, and it definitely has to be newer, bigger, louder or shinier than our neighbours' thing. Everything we see in the papers or on the TV says to us that "I am more important than you – so up yours, mate".

We live in an "EastEnders Culture". Everything is a drama, even buying a pint of milk. The day is not complete if you have not fallen out with someone, bad-mouthed them to everyone you meet (including the people you bad-mouthed yesterday) and had a go at them across a crowded pub. Life imitates Art and you can see this in society today.

My daughters fall out with their friends over the most trivial of incidents. This happens and the kids just need to get on with it – they will probably have forgotten about it by bed time. The parents however feel the need to get involved. More than once we have had parents phoning us up because one or other of my daughters has fallen out with their precious Jeanie. When the crime is investigated I guess that my children are at fault about 50% of the time – almost always the other parents don't get the full story from their offspring in the first place, and even fewer of them will accept the full truth when presented with it. If I find that my child is at fault then I will get them to apologise and put it right. If they are right, I encourage them to forgive their friends. But why do the parents have to be involved at all? (EastEnders!)

Here is a thought. Wouldn't life be better if we all though "You, You, You!" instead? I am not suggesting that we all become a pushover and give way to anybody who shouts louder, but there are two sides to every argument, and maybe, just maybe, the other person may be right (or more right than you) or even just less wrong.

Everything seems to have to be someones fault. The cracks in the pavement are the fault of the council, but people don't want to pay the increased council tax that pays for the upkeep. The cups in Starbucks have a warning about the temperature of the drink, in case someone gets scalded and sues the company. There are stories in the paper or on the internet about Outdoor Activity Companies going out of business because they can't afford the indemnity insurance they have to have in case some blond bimbo goes abseiling and chips her nail polish (ok, maybe that is a bit harsh).

People need to be real. If we want shiny new roads, we have to pay for them somehow. If we don't then social services has to be cut, or libraries, or care for the elderly or some other service. If you buy a coffee, it will be hot. If you go abseiling, you may get hurt. Deal with it!

People get bitter and twisted about the tiniest slight against them – all the "no win, no fee" lawyers encouraging people to sue for the smallest injustice. Things happen! Most people are just trying to get on with life, and don't mean you any ill will.

I suppose this is the point. The next time you get into an argument/dispute/discussion with a colleague/neighbour/relative, stop and think about their point of view – they could be right (unlikely, but you never know).

You could take it a step further:

You may be right this time, but why not give them what they want anyway? I would put money on the fact that you will only have been right 50% of the time, so you probably got your way when you were in the wrong at some time in the past, and it never hurts to store up some good will for the future.

The thing about this is that you have to do it gracefully - and I am not talking about Strictly Come Dancing here. Don't make a fuss about it; don't even mention it, Just Do It™.

I am a Christian and so I do take my guidance from Jesus. There is a story about a woman who commits adultery. She is about to be stoned to death for this crime. Jesus steps in and challenges the prospective stoners that they should only throw stones if they have not sinned themselves. One by one the crowd disappears until no-one is left. Maybe this story applies to each one of us too. Are you one of the crowd, about to chuck rocks at someone unfortunate enough to be caught, because don't kid yourself. The only reason that it is the other person and not you is that they were unlucky enough to be caught. Each one of us should have been in the centre of the circle for something or other.

I know this is not very coherent and I know I am not going to change the world with this post – but it would be nice to think that someone is affected by this in some small way. I am not saying that I have everything right. I see many of these things in myself every day, but I like t think that I fight them fairly successfully. Maybe I am just deluded though J

End of Rant

So here are the symptom highlights. It is the end of cycle two. I am not taking any regular medication at the moment, but I am gearing up for the start of the third cycle next week. I am due to have blood tests on Monday morning and I am back in the hospital again on Tuesday for the third Oxalyplatin drip. Last time my appointment was late and I ended up as the last patient in the unit, sitting twiddling my thumbs while the toxic liquid dripped into my veins. This time I am due in just before lunch, so hopefully I will be back home in time for Doctors after the BBC news (only joking – I watch 60 Minute Makeover on ITV, not BBC).

*** Gory bit ***

I have been troubled by the same sort of thing as last time around – my bowl doesn't know when to go and when not to, so I swing between rushing to get there in time and not going for weeks at a time (well days anyway). Apart from that I get tired still. Last Monday after swaying in the breeze as I stood in the shower I decided that work would not agree with me that day and decided to stay at home. I phoned in to work at around 8.00 and was asleep again by 8.05.

*** End gory bit ***

Update

Because of my tardiness in posting this, it is now the middle of cycle three. For more details about the end of cycle two see the intervening post. The thing I have found hardest this time is the length of time it has taken me to get over the symptoms. It has definitely taken longer. During cycle one and two I would say it too thirty six (cycle one) to forty eight hours (cycle two) to get over the pins and needles. This time is too almost a full week before they disappeared completely. I am much more tired than I have been and for longer too. The symptoms are the same; my body is just less able to fight them.

I guess that we knew that it would be this way. The drugs are cumulative, so each dose adds to the cocktail of poisons swirling around in my blood. I guess it means that Christmas will be quiet this year. The only ray of hope is that it all finishes in January. Just hold on to that thought….

Quick update

Hi everybody,

This is not the post that I promised, or rather, hinted at, last time. I am actually in the middle of another post, but have left it for the time being. I will endeavour to finish and post it, but I am aware that there are friends out there who are desperate (?) for continuing updates.

So, (we seem to have been here before), this is the end of week one in cycle three (of a total of eight). The dosage in cycle three is the same as cycle two (which was 20% lower than cycle one).

The symptoms are similar (low level nausea in the morning, pins and needles, insomnia overnight - waking each night several times to wee).

The big difference this time is the time that the symptoms have taken to subside. During cycle one and two the pins and needles disappeared after forty eight hours. This time, however, I can still feel the tail end symptoms even now, one week after the hospital treatment.

I was at the hospital last Tuesday and when I left my arm felt like it had been kicked by a horse. I wandered around the house feeling sorry for my self, clutching my arm.

I am tired most of the time, and force myself to get up and face each day. So far I have managed it, but as the mornings get darker and colder (the central heating clock was wrong this morning, so the heating was off!) it is getting more and more of a struggle.

Enough of all this now though. I will try to finish my other post in the next few days and get it on the net.

Party Animals

Hi, back again, just to let you know that I am still alive. Life goes on, just the same.


This last week has been quiet at work - when I checked I found that I still had nineteen days of holiday to take before the end of the year, so I have been takingt a few days of , I think, well earned rest - except that it wasn't restful over the weekend. Parties are kind of like buses around here - you wait ages for one and then three turn up at once!


Our very good friends Graeme and Ulupi Barnett are abandoning us - Ulupi has been acepted for teacher training in Nottingham (where her family lives) so they are due to leave this weekend. They had an open house for their friends and neighbours. We were not sure if we would be able to make it - obviously we have challanges, not least of which are hair appointments(!?!) and School Bugs. Helen had been coming down with her first cold of the year (teachers get every cold that goes around) which flaired into life on Friday evening.


Helen stayed at home, sleeping on Saturday, but the rest of us spent a lovely afternoon at the Barnetts. Ulupi is a fantastic cook and there was some great food for us. We left around 4.30, just as our replacements were arriving.


We headed back to Livingston and stopped off for some petrol. In the petrol station we met two of our other friends on the way to Natalie for her 40th birthday. I took the kids down there, with our friends following. I went back home to see how Helen was (still not well enough to go out) then joined them. There were loads of kids there this time (as Natalie and Bernard have kids, whereras Graeme and Ulupi are dinkys). More fantastic food, along with the kids having a great time, then back home.


Helen had drunk enough Day Nurse to float a battleship and just about felt up to going out, so Helen and I headed off to our third party. Helen's headmistress was having a 50th at her house, and while it wasn't quite a three line whip, it was the 'right thing' to do. In fact we had a great time again, and I met all Helens colleagues. We did leave early though, because both of us were about to fall over, and not from the drink!


On Sunday we had a lie in and then off to our final social event of the weekend, a christening for Emma McGlynn. Emma was born while I was in hospital and the McGlynns were the first people we went to see after I was released. When we went to see them we did not know how bad I was - or rather, how blessed I was - and I sat on their setee in a bit of a daze, watching Becky and Claire cuddle this new life, wondering if I would see my children hold their own babies.

Now, a couple of months and a great deal of prayer on from that Saturday morning, I have been told that my chances of seeing this are pretty much as good as any one. I guess because of this memory I have a bit of a soft spot for Emma. I haven't told anyone else that and I can't remember if John or Lindsey (her parents) read this, but I suppose someone may tell them.

Anyway, Sunday morning we were at St Peter's Caltholic Church in Livingston, at the Baptism of Emma, followed by a nice reception at the Livingston Inn.

So came the end of our party animal weekend.

Symptoms bit - if you don't want the grusome details finish now....

Still here? Ok lets get on...

I have been on my second cycle of chemo for a week now. The Ox drip was fine and the Cap tablets have been ok. I am on a slightly reduced dose this time, 1600mg instead of 2000mg last time. I have not had any particular symptoms again, in the same way as last time. There was the pins and needles effect again, but this had pretty much gone by the end of Wednesday, slightly more than 24 hours later.

One of the reasons for writing this is to help anyone else going through this in the future. I hope that this does not happen, but given that there are more than 30000 new cases of Colon Cancer in the UK each year, this is probably a bit of a forlorn hope to he honest. That being the case, I am puting in details that people perhaps would not normally talk about at polite dinner parties. Maybe that is one of the things that is wrong with life today...


Last chance to leave...............
You can't say I didn't warn you.

Last chance...

One thing I have noticed is that my bowl movements have changed. I have been waking up every night to go to pee every couple of hours, probably three times a night. At the same time I had not been to the toilet properly (rabbit droppings - enough said).

What I think was happening, was that the drugs syphon off the liquid leaving the pellets. One of the functions of the colon is to do this, and then move on the solid waste using infinitesimal muscle contractions.

One of the anti-sickness drugs (I have never mentioned them, but I have four different types and amounts to take at various time through each cycle) is the main suspect at the moment. I reckon that it is reducing the muscle spasms which cause sickness and at the same time is also reduceing the 'waste management' function.

I am watching the Secret Millionaire at the moment and I am distracted by the programme. I will not write about this at the moment - the subject is not appropriate for this post, but I guess that my next post will be on a different subject, and I want your comments on it.

I think that is enough for now,

cheers

Graham

Cold Turkey

I have been (chemo) drug free now for two days - just as I wrote that I realised how it might come across! so I thought I had better put in the "chemo" - and I thought I had better blog about it.

You will remember that I have one week in three without drugs, and this is it.

At the moment I feel a bit of a fraud - I am supposed to be going though chemo but actually I feel fine. I went to SJH last week for a one-off check up

I gave up on this post for a long time, but now I need to finish it as there is new stuff to tell. If you don't want to know the gruesome details then it is time to leave now.

We pick up the tale as I was at SJH for my check up. The took some more blood from me - they seem to do that at the drop of a hat - and went through a list of possible symptoms. They were pleased and slightly surprised that I did not have many problems. The pins and needles which lasted for two days with me seems to affect people for a couple of weeks normally, so I guess I got off lightly.

The second week of the drugs was fine and on into the drug free week. In fact I felt a bit of a fraud. People kept telling me how horrible these drugs were and I seemed to be sailing through without any particular problems. I was going to work in the morning and coming home in the afternoon and as often as not logging on during the afternoon and evening.

All of that came crashing down over the weekend though :-O

One of the possible symptoms is diarrhoea and there are strict instructions on when to call the hospital. If I have diarrhoea more than four times during the day or once overnight then I have to call the doctor, either the unit at SJH or the Western, depending on the time of day.

Well I went to bed at about 11pm on Friday but only managed to get in to bed at 1am. After that I was up as 2 am, 4 am and 6 am - suddenly I didn't feel such a fraud. I felt rotten. I had been up half the night and felt drained (literally).

I called the Western and they sent me to the Emergency GP at SJH. I was prescribed some Loperamide and told to rest. I kept having to run until about lunchtime, but then I was OK.

There were still rumblings throughout the day and apparently my stomach kept Helen awake during the night, but I was OK most of the night, until around 6.30am and then again at about 8.00. The registrar at the Western called just as I got out the shower and I was called in for observations on Sunday morning.

We dropped the kids of at church on Sunday and then threaded our way across the city. We parked in the special Chemo car park and were admitted to Ward 4.

More blood was duly taken and temperature and blood pressure, then I was shipped of for an X-ray. I was offered the option of being taken down to the x-ray in a wheelchair, but as I wasn't feeling too bad at that point we elected to walk. Sure enough It was the other side of the hospital. I did manage, but I was actually tired by the time we made it back to the ward.

We were left alone in our en suite luxury room. Helen dozed, trying to catch up on a bit of the sleep she needed. Her plans for this weekend were completely out the window - and her class were in full-time for the first time.

Eventually we needed to go and pick the kids up from church. We went out to the corridor and told the nurses that we had to go and they rushed off to get the doctor. Dr Storrie, the registrar who had seen me was waiting for the blood tests to come back from the lab.

Dr Storrie came out to see us and we explained the situation. She was just waiting for the last of the results to come back up and asked us to hang on for a minute, so we left anyway.

She did phone later that afternoon, to let me know that the results showed that I was dehydrated (which was not a surprise) but other than that I was fine.

She also phoned the next morning, just as we were getting up. I had been fine most of the night, but just at that moment I did feel the need to rush off.

Later than afternoon I got a call from the unit at SJH - news travels fast! They were tentatively allowing me to come in the next day, but the final decision would be made on the morning, by the visiting Western Consultant.

I had taken the day off work and was waiting at home the next day (this was Tuesday 2nd Sept).
Sure enough I had a call from the unit the next morning postponing the second cycle for a week. Since I was too ill to have chemo I decided to go into work.

It was a good call by the doctor, because that night (Tuesday) I was bad again.

I have to say since then there have been one or two incidents, but mostly I have been ok. I went to the GP today for the pre-chemo blood test that I have to have the day before my hospital chemo and I had a call from the SJH unit earlier this afternoon.

I am lined up for my second dose tomorrow, although it is likely to be slightly lower doses, both of the Ox drip and the Cap tablets. I am due at the hospital at 2 pm, for an afternoon session, which is not as convenient. I guess the moral of the story is to book early to avoid disappointment.

I will be taking my scarf and gloves again, so if you hear of any sightings of the Abominable Snowman in Livingston tomorrow, don't worry about it - it will just be me.

I promise not to leave it so long next time - I know there are some readers who find this almost as exciting as East Enders or Corrie (but I can't compete with Neighbours). When I read back this post (yes I do read it before I post) I see that the end does not really have anything much to do with turkeys at all!

keep smiling

Graham

Return of Count Dracula

I guess the headline from this week is that I am still here J

Actually that is not true – the headline from this week is that Dave and Libby (from Kings Church) got married. I just form a sub-plot of that, and that is the way it should be too, but more of that later.

So, anyway, the last time we met I had just survived my first dose of chemo. This was the Oxaliplatin drip, with the tingling fingers. I have to say that for that Tuesday afternoon I felt pretty grotty, and lay about on the settee feeling a bit sorry for myself. The next morning was my first dose of Capecitabine (maybe I did mention it last time). I don't think I had too many symptoms, after all. Obviously for the first couple of days I was taking some pretty powerful anti-sickness pills (although you wouldn't think so from the size of them). I was able to go to work every morning, although I do go home at lunchtime (and then log on remotely!) I have been getting tired in the afternoon and evening and my mouth does taste a bit goppy, kind of metallic – not quite bad enough to need more anti-sickness, but contributing to a general low-level grot (that is twice I have used the word grot or grotty and I will try not to repeat my self anymore).

As I mentioned, the highlight of the weekend was a trip down to Newcastle for the wedding of Dave Hill and Libby Cant. Dave works for Kings Church Edinburgh and is one of the nicest and most genuine blokes I know. Libby is just lovely and they couldn't be better for each other. Libby comes from Newcastle, so we went down there for the wedding. We decided to stay overnight and booked into a Travelodge. It wasn't posh, but then we only slept in the room.

We left at about 9.30 and I drove down the A1, listening to crackly Radio 5 Live and the coverage of the Beijing Olympics and the fantastic Super Saturday golden streak (four gold medals and a clutch of silver and bronze). We checked in to the hotel (six of us sneaking in to one room), switched on the telly and watched the reruns of the golds while we got changed.

The wedding was lovely. The church was nicely decorated and the service was really nice. Matthew Clifton-Brown prayed for the new couple and Dan Hudson spoke during the service.

After the service everyone went to the local Memorial Hall where there was some food – really nice, just as you get there without having to hang around for ages while the photos were taken. The speeches were not too long or boring – in fact they were very good, and I now have a lot to live up to! – but I suppose that I have several chances to get it right.

There was more delicious food as the evening carried on, with a Ceilidh band providing the music. I managed to have one pint, and danced twice – after that I was exhausted. We left at the end and made our way back to the hotel. We all crashed out and apart from Becky (who had to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag) slept till morning. In the morning there were more golds in Beijing and breakfast with Errol and Michelle Minnot in the Little Chef. We left and started northwards. We stopped off at Holy Isle, which is one of my favourite places. It is so peaceful and tranquil. I have always fancied staying there, just to see what it is like when the tide is in and the island is cut off.

We spent an hour or so there before going back over to the mainland. We stopped just in the mainland side of the causeway as the tide was due to come in.

If you have never been there when the tide is coming in, it is worth while doing so. The sea comes in so fast – the sand is very flat and it is easy to get caught out on the sand – Claire and Angie almost managed it, and there were a couple of people further out!

There is also always one car trying to get across at the last minute, driving across the road as the tide comes in. Sure enough, one car came back with its wheels under the water – Errol has pictures. As they drove past the crowds on the road the driver and passengers looked very sheepish. J

The journey back to Edinburgh was uneventful and we got back just at teatime.

The Hospital had asked me to go in for a quick check-up a week after the first treatment. This is the only time they need to see me, just to make sure that I am not having any seriously adverse reaction to the drugs.

I went in on Tuesday, and they immediately stuck a needle in me and proceeded to take pints of blood from me. They went through a list of symptoms and checked that I was ok. They seemed surprised that I only had the pins and needles for 48 hours. Everything seems to be ok and they sent me home with a cup of tea – in fact they offer you a cup of tea as soon as you walk through the door, even before I had seen any of the medical staff – they did the same last week, so I guess that is the way they work down there.

There is a lovely lady called Agnes, who volunteers there every Tuesday. She is a member of East Calder Church and brings in home-made cakes and stuff for patients and staff – this is lovely and just shows how much people care.

So, after a week and a half of drugs, I am doing ok. I get tired in the afternoon, particularly if I push it during the morning. I am ok if I finish by lunch time, but one day this week I stayed on till around 2.30 and I felt it later that day.

This has taken me a long time to write – I stared it much earlier this week, and I apologise for the delay. I am slightly surprised but very pleased that people are reading this to keep up to date – it is quite humbling actually.

I will post another entry soon – about Helens first week at work as a teacher.

Thanks

Graham

First treatment

Yesterday was my first chemo treatment at SJH. Helen and I arrived at about 10.00 yesterday and went down to the chemo unit. Don't remember if I have desctibed the unit - small but perfectly formed.

The unit is buzzer controlled and leads in to a comfortable waiting area, with a tv, internet, small kitchen and settees. We arrived and were given a seat and a cup of tea while I completed more paperwork. I was also given some anti-sickness pills. After about 10 minutes we were called though to the treatment area, along with about four other patients. The patients get given comfortable seats and the partners (most people had brought partners to wait with them) get normal chairs.

I was hooked up to the drip and the first one they gave me was a glucose drip - not sure why, but there you go. That lasted about 10 minutes and them they hooked up the Ox (see previous posts for full details of Ox). That takes about two hours to drip through and finally they gave me another glucose drip to flush every last drop into my system.

They kept feeding us with cups of tea, so much so that I had to get up and go to the toilet half way though, as my bladder was about to burst. All the drip machines have batteries so it is just a matter of unplugging and wheeling the stand along the corridor.

While I sat with the drip my arm was wrapped up in an electric blanket - for the full two hours, a bit odd really - to keep me warm. As the drip dripped, it felt as if my arm was filling up. By the end of it my arm felt quite odd - stiff, slightly sore and very sensitive to the cold.

After the second glucose drip we were given a large bag of drugs to take home, including the Capecitabine (the other chemo drug) and three different anti sickness drugs.

For those of you who are interested I have Granisetron and Dexamethasone to take on the day I have the Ox drip, more Dexamethasone (different dosage) to take for the three days after the drip and Domperidone to take as and when.

I am on 2000mg of the capecitabine twice a day, four lovely peach coloured tablets (I am not sure that the colour has any effect, but there you go) to be taken just after a meal, twelve hours apart - they are quite strict about that. I have to have this tice a day for fourteen days for 8 cycles. Now that works out as 224 doses and I have had my first (not that I am counting).

We left the unit at about 1.15 and drove home. Helen suggested that I drive as she would not be around for any of the other treatments (she started work today - not a happy bunny), so I drove home very gingerly, but safely. I also was wearing a pair of ski gloves and a scarf, so I was looking a bit of a pillock, standing in the entrance of SJH getting my parking ticket wearing my ski jacket and gloves and a woolly scarf - the reason I was dressed like this is described below. For those of you that I see, I will probably be wearing this sort of get-up for the couple of days after the OX drip, every third week, wednesday to friday, whenever I go outside.

Touching things is odd. One of the main side effects of the Ox is the sensitivity to cold. If I touch almost anything colder than my body, even at ambient air temperature for more than a second or two I get pings and needles in my fingers and hands. The effects appear within about two or three seconds, but dissappear just as quickly after I let go. They say that I should not go into the fridge (I did sneak in for some mik to go in my tea though).

The effects are most noticable if I tough metal, although I have noticed it touching other things too. This, along with tiredness, was the main simptom that I felt yesterday. I am not as tired today and the pins and needles are not as bad today either. The reason for the scarf is that the drug affects the nerves - hence the pins and needles, and can affect the nerves in the throat - leading to the sensation of my throat closing up and wheezing. The fix for this is to keep warm - hence scarf and gloves - drink something warm - hence the three cups of tea at the hospital - and get out of the cold.

I had a dentists appointment today, and braved the outside world, walking down to the surgery. I took my scarf, but didn't need it. I was fine walking, although the weather today is not too bad (the sun is out!)

So that was my first chemo dose. I have to go back for a one-off appointment next week, for them to check that I have not had any drastic side efects, but that should be a five minute job and I am free now for three weeks - appart form the hundreds of pills I am taking every day.

I will try to keep you up to date as I go along.

God bless,

Graham

Twice as good

If one post is good, then obviously two posts is twice as good. The last post was a catchup, after the long silence (four whole days). This post is about tomorrow, the first day of my chemotherapy.

I am due at SJH at 10 am tomorrow for the first dose of Oxaliplatin. The drip generally takes about two hours to be administered, but I guess that we will be there longer. I am assuming that they will want to weigh me (again) and stuff before starting, and probably monitor me after the drip has finished.

The ward/centre/clinic at SJH is really nice. There is an entry area, with settees and internet access. Through into the next area, there are offices and the main treatment area, which is by default, more clinical. There are, however, comfortable seats for the patients. There are areas for relaxation therapy, some of which I might partake, but some I will not be using.

I will blog again tomorrow, and let you know how it all goes. The point of this blog is to document this treatment and reassure everyone about this, both friends as I go through the treatment and hopefully other fellow sufferers, both of colon cancer and possibly other forms of cancer.

Back tomorrow

Silence is golden

I have been away from my computer for four whole days – four days!

With our three older children away at Newday (they had a great time by the way) and one of our wonderful friends taking Katie away for us, we were left completely alone – I can't remember the last time we had three nights on our own – about sixteen and a half years ago I think. Anyway, we took the chance to slip away. We went to the Norton House Hotel, just outside the centre of Edinburgh. We spent the afternoon in the pool at the hotel. They had a very nice pool, along with a sauna and steam room. We had our meal at The Apartment in (doesn't have a website!?!) which was excellent although I thought the portions could be bigger.

I had Sea Bass with Saffron Roast Potatoes, with a rather nice chardonnay, followed by the cheese board. I am finding, as I get older, that I am choosing a sweet much less often and cheese more so. A piece of good cheese along with homemade oatcakes is much more satisfying.

We spent the next day in the pool again. It was good to swim again, although I suspect that I may have pulled a couple of muscles in my stomach. We had just left the pool and ordered lunch when we received a text from Becky saying that they would be back in twenty minutes – we were not expecting them to get back until that evening. We rushed our lunch (Helen burnt her mouth) and raced round the bypass to meet them, only to find that they were not due back for another hour – grrrrr – then they turned up two minutes later :-O

So now our house is full again, with the kids back from their various holiday excursions, and we are all – including Helen – are getting ready for school next week.

More soon….

I'm back

This post has details of the nasty side effects of the drugs I am due to get - if you are squeamish go here.....

Well we went along to St John's Hospital (which I will now shorten to SJH) Chemotherapy department this afternoon, for a meet and greet.


This was another session where they went through all the side effects of the two drugs I am due to get from next week - it is all starting to seem a bit scary........


I have just had a scan through my previous posts to see if I mentioned which drugs I get and I can see them (although maybe I just missed that bit). Anyway, here goes.

I am due to get a regime called Cap/Ox - short for Capecitebine and Oxaliplatin

I start off with Oxaliplatin, once every three weeks, at the chemo department at SJH where they put me on a drip for a couple of hours. They give you a hand leaflet detailing all the side effects. If you don't want to know the score, LOOK AWAY NOW (sorry)

The first one mentioned is diarrhoea - a bit ironic really. Next up Stomatitis or mouth sores and ulcers. Next, the ever popular Nausea and Vomiting (although they give me even more drugs to stop this one). There are dire warnings about infections and how I will be more susceptible to them - reduced blood count and all that. After this, the perennial Tiredness (it is not an excuse to get out of the hoovering, honest).

Finally (for this drug) the interesting one. Neuropathy. This drug affects the nerves (don't sneak up behind me) and this shows itself as numbness or tingling in the fingers and toes. this can be triggered by exposure to coldness and they recommend that I stay away from cold areas, chilled foods and cold drinks, to the extent that opening the fridge to get something out can trigger it. They suggest getting an oven glove to get things out of the fridge(!) and wearing a scarf and coat to avoid sudden gusts of wind, even next week!

It can also affect the nerves in the throat, causing a feeling of breathlessness and anxiety at not being able to breath properly. In fact, it does not affect the breathing in the slightest, but apparently it can feel that way. Scraping the car in winter may be fun and as for frozen peas (that was pea not pee, disgusting boy)..... This lasts for a few days after the treatment ends (so that will be a two or three days every three weeks).

So much for Ox.

Capecitebine is given as tablets every day for two weeks. based on my height/weight I will probably be on 4 - 5 tablets in the morning and the same in the evening - if you shake me I will probably rattle. So how does this one affect me?

Well there is diarrhoea, stomatitis, nausea and vomiting, higher risk of infections, tiredness (sound familiar?) The different one for this drug is Palmer/Planter Erythema, or red and sore patches n the palms and soles of the feet.

Oh yes, and I shouldn't become pregnant as there could be complications !?!

After that I get a week off before it all starts again. Apparently the effects are in the shape of a cosine graph (start at the top, go down in a graceful curve until about day ten when I start to fight off the symptoms and the curve starts to climb again) over the three week period (convenient really). I am not sure however that the graph ever gets as high as at the start.

The risk of infection is stressed a few times. If I get any sort of infection then it is a drop everything and run situation. I have programmed the numbers of the SJH department and the Western department into my phone in case of dire emergencies, so if I am with any of you and I start going blue and drooling at the mouth, grab my phone and call the hospital at once (OK, I am unlikely to turn blue and start drooling, but you get the idea - watch out for me :-) )

So that is it for the chemo drugs,, but they give me three, yes, three different anti-nausea drugs "just in case". And if none of them work I can call them and they will give me another one that they keep in reserve for stubborn patients.

OK that is enough for now. I am off to watch my symptoms DVD (oh yes, they gave me a DVD too).

Someone tell the others they can look back now.

visiting rights

Today is going to be an interesting day. I will blog again later probably, but I am visiting St John's Hospital to see the oncology department where I start my treatment next week. Today is an admin day, where they weigh and measure me to calculate the dosage exactly, along with all the admin surrounding it.

Today is also exam result day for Claire. The Scottish exams are much earlier than the English ones and consequently the results also come much earlier. We recieved a text at eight o'clock today with Claires results - she did fantastic (of course we always new she would :-)) This will open up loads of doors that actually seemed to be closing.

well done Clairie

Newday

The house is quiet at the moment as Claire, Beck and Andrew have all left for Newday 08 this morning. They have been looking forward to this since the day they got back from Newday 07, this time last year.

There are about 8 of the Kings Church Edinburgh Youth going along , with about the same number of students, either going with them or meeting them on site. They are joinging about six thousand other seenagers and students to spend a week worshiping and learning about God, along with gigs in the evening and loads of other cool stuff.

They traveled down in a rickety old minibus to Utoxeter race course where Newday is held every year. they left at about 9.00 this morning so they should be there by now, puting up their tents and living on potnoodles for the rest of the week.

Several years ago the ground where they were was flooded out and the weather foreast is looking a bit damp for the rest of this week, but I am sure it will not put them off and they will all have a great time.

cheers

Graham

Chemo dates

This is a quick post. I have got the dates for my chemo - I am starting on 12th August, in Livingston, rather than the Western in Edinburgh.

This is good news as we was a bit worried how I would get to and from the hospital - not actually the going to the hospital, but rather the getting home from the hospital after I have been pumped full of drugs.

St John's in Livingston is five minutes from home and if the worst comes to the worst I could get a taxi there and back (Helen was suggesting that I cycled, hmmmm).

One of the consultants at the Western has a clinic at St Johns every week, so this is the best of both worlds - same treatment as at the western, with full access to the specialist nursing team and oncologists, but five minutes from home.

The treatments will last for 8 cycles of 3 weeks each, back to back, giving a total of 24 weeks (23 actually). Each cycle starts with a day in hospital - a tuesday as it happens. This is followed by tablets for two weeks and then a week off, before starting again. So, eight 3 week cycles less the last week makes 23 weeks. That means, according to my calendar that the last treatment will be on 19th January, which is a bot earlier than I was expecting, so that is a bonus too.

that is enough from me now though so

bye

Google, whacking and cuilness

Google have just announced that they think the internet has 1 trillion unique URL's (Universal Resource locator) – that is 1,000,000,000,000 (1 million, million) web addresses. A URL is the bit that you type in the address bar in Internet Explorer like www.bbc.co.uk or www.microsoft.com.

So that is the number of 'websites' but how unique pages are there?

In 1998, in the first Google index there were 26,000,000 pages. By the year 2000 they were up to 1 billion pages. Today, the answer is that even Google don't know! And in fact the number of new pages every day runs into several billion, so even if they started counting new pages are appearing faster than they can reasonably be counted.

In theory the internet is infinite. If you take the example of a web calendar, then each 'day' page will have a link that leads to the next day and of course that would go on foreverJ. Pages like these are not meaningful to most people, so Google just ignores them.

Google has an Index of all (ok then, most) of the pages on the internet. They start from certain pages, each of which has loads of links to other pages. They have a 'spider', sometimes called a 'crawler' or a 'bot' that follows these links and when it finds unique content then it indexes it, reading the content and creating the search index of keywords that allows you to search for anything. Then it follows the links to all the pages linked from the newly indexed page and starts all over again. Eventually, after removing all the broken links and duplicate pages it has an index to everything – their stated goal is to "index all the world's data".

Google updates their index continually, updating information and re-processing the web-link graph several times every day. This graph consists of the 1 trillion URLs and Google likens this to exploring every junction of every road in the US – except 50,000 times bigger, and all this so that you can search for the latest gossip/pictures of Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie/Big Brother housemates (take your pick).

So, now that we know the size if the internet, the next thing to do is to try to find a "Googlewhack" – a search for two words that returns a single result – i.e. the only page on the entire internet that contains your two chosen search objects. There is a website dedicated to these, along with the official rules and a page to allow you to post any Googlewhack you find (yes, I have found one and no, I can't remember what it was – it was about four years ago!). Of course, finding and posting a Googlewhack is self-defeating (as Google indexes the new page recording it as a Googlewhack).

The comedian Dave Gorman created a stage show that toured the UK, France, Australia, Canada and the US and has written a spin-off Sunday Times Best Selling book about googlewhacking and googlewhackers.

Finally, just when you thought it was safe (and/or impossible), a new search engine has popped up with the intention of knocking Google of their perch. Cuil claim to index 121,617,892,992 web pages and also that this is three times more than Google (who no longer tell how many pages they index). Their index method is (allegedly) better/stronger/faster than Google , their page is nicer and they are generally all-round nice guys, who will make you a cup of tea if you call in at their offices in California (ok I made that up about the tea). Have a look at www.cuil.com (from the Gaelic for knowledge or hazel and pronounced coolJ). As a comparison, if you search for "Googlewhack Adventure" (Dave Gorman's book title), Cuil returns 23,098 pages, while Google returns "about 26,600". I will leave you to decide which is better…..

The Drugs Squad

Today was my first meeting with the oncology team that are looking after me. It was a nerveracking meeting. For the period before and just after my operation the news just seemed to get worse every time we spoke to someone.

We started off with the diagnosis of IBS, quickly moving on to this tumour, briefly visiting a twisted bowl along the way. Then we were told that it looked thike there was "lymph node involvement" - an odd turn of phrase, but one I ahve read in other places. Then there was the liver, which also seemed to look as it was infected.

This was the situation when I left hospital, about three weeks ago. Then, about two weeks ago the MDT meeting took place (see the last post for more details) and the news got better. Now while this was great - no liver problems and no lymph node involvement - the thing that stuck in the back of my mind, and Helen as well, was that if the diagnosis could change once, then it could change again....

So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that we turned up this morning at the Edinburgh Cancer Centre, part of the Western Infirmery. We got there in plenty of time, and sat in the waiting area. This was not too bad, although Helen did compare it to an old peoples home - certainly, we were the youngest there by a good twenty years.

After a while one of the nurses came and introduced himself to us and decided that I needed to be weighed. I have lost about a stone in the last month, but if pressed I would not recommend this as a weight loss plan.

After an hour and a half, getting more and more fidgety all the time, we were called though to see the registrar. She was very nice and almost imediatly put us as ease by confirming what he had been told earlier - after that I dont think we heard anything else!

It is not actually true about not listening, but it was a massive relief.

So, this is how it is. The medical staff are as confident that the cancer has been removed as they will ever say - they will never commit 100%, but as close as. Their recommendation is that I have chemo to wipe out any remaining rebels.

They want to do a full colonoscopy, but probably not until after the chemo - it is too soon just now, on account of being cut up the middle - and it is probably not a good idea to do it during the chemo. Having said that they are sure that there is nothing left. If there had been any more tumours or infection there would be some polyps, but there was no sign of anything.

We were given a bit more information aboout the drugs as well. The set of drugs I will have is given to most colon cancer patients up to the age of about eighty. It is (apparently) one of the mildest chemo diets, so I recon that if an eighty year old can survive this, then I as a fit(ish) forty-something should be able to cope. Maybe that is a bit optimistic - maybe it is just plain hopeful. I guess this is a journey that I am just starting - you are welcome to tag along via this blog.

Thanks you for all the comments to the first post - it is encouraging and humbling that so many prople are praying for myself and Helen. If you wouldn't mind praying that helen has peace about her new job that she starts in a few weeks - what with having to look after me all day, she needs a bit of TLC for herself.

I will post again when I have more to say (you may no think that is a good thing, but there you go)

god bless
Graham

(p.s. the title was inspired by Becky)

Beginnings

Hello and welcome to my blog. This is the first blog I have done (other than a boring internal work blog - but that is not really worth mentioning ;-) )

The reason behind this blog is to update friends and family (and anyone else interested) on my treatment for Colon Cancer.

Since this is the first post it will probably be longer than most of the others. Also, I should probably include a synopsis of how we got here, so here goes...

Early in 2008 I started suffering from stomach cramps and what I think I will call 'blockage' (I am trying to be polite here). After several visits to my GP and tests in hospital I was diagnosed with Irritable Bowl Syndrome or IBS.

Towards the end of June 2008 this suddenly got worse and I was rushed in to the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. After several tests the surgeon told me I had a twisted bowel.

"OK", I thought, "that doesn't sound too bad", although it did involve keyhole surgery to sort it, but I should still be out in time to go on holiday.

During the surgery, the surgical team realised that it was not in fact a twisted bowl, got out the big knife and split me up the middle. They removed a tumour about the size of a satsuma, along with several inches of colon on either side and then proceeded to staple me back together.

This obviously knocked the holiday plans on the head and I have spent the time since recovering from the large and impressive scar up my stomach.

The day after the surgery, the consultant who performed the operation told me of his findings and sent me for a CT scan. The scan seemed to indicate some possible infection of the nearby lymph nodes - bad news.

After that I was sent home to recover (and kind of left hanging with this diagnosis).

After a week or so there was a (scheduled) Multi-disciplinary Team or MDT meeting of the medical staff (but not me!) with the surgeon, radiologist, oncologist and pathologist puting in their tuppance. During the meeting on further inspection of the pathology and scans they decided that the lymph nodes were not actually affected/infected - good news.

I have to say, at the time of this post this diagnosis is still second-hand from one of the specialist nurseing team and I have a consultation with the oncologist later this week - no doubt I will blog about that meeting later.

So much for the physical side of this.

I am a committed Christian and an active member of Kings Church Edinburgh. One of the first people we told - in fact we turned to him when I was admitted to the hospital in the first place - is the lead elder and our good friend, Matthew Clifton-Brown. He and the church have been an amazing strength for myself and family.

I want to thanks Errol and Raph, Errol for looking after us and Raph for organising the prayer and fasting rota.

This has been a roller coaster ride for both myself and Helen (my wife). I have gone from being sick (physically) to mainly relieved that it wasn't serious (twisted bowl) to very unhappy (tumour) to very, very unhappy (spreading) to overjoyed (not spreading) to slightly anxious (just about now, waiting for the consult on Thursday).

I will admit that I have had some dark thoughts at times. The first trip I made after escaping from hospital was to see some friends who had just had a baby (girl, if you are interested). I sat on their settee (exhausted) and watched my children cooing and cuddling this new life. Both of my older daughters (15 and 16) decided that they wanted one.

As I watched them I had the dreadful thought that I may not (indeed possibly/probably) would not see them holding their own children. This was horrible and I have not admitted this to my wife yet (I guess she knows now though). I sat on the chair not saying anything and feeling (just a bit) sorry for myself.

As the days have gone on, particularly after we got the news from the MDT meeting, my spirits and my faith have been rising. I have had several pictures given to me. The most encouraging one from my friend Errol (from above) who felt he had a picture of me playing with my grandchildren. Others have given me similar pictures and prophecies about complete healing from God (possibly using the work of the medical teams, I am not so super-spiritual that I don't admit they work miracles too).

Matthew and the church also have faith for complete healing. I guess if I was honest (and I suppose I should be or there is no point to this) I hope that they are right, but I don't have that level of faith myself. I am getting there, but I am not quite there yet.

I will confirm this later this week, after the consult, but I am expecting to be told that I will have to have chemo. In fact I have even been told which drugs they will use and how long it will last (the drugs have really long names that I can't remember and it will last 6 months).

I guess this is the current situation and that these are the salient points of this sorry tale so far.

I will try to keep this blog up to date as the chemo progresses, but I am not naive enough to think that I will be able to do this all the way though. If it gets to the point that I can't write I suggest that you check out Helen's Facebook site as I am sure she will update that as we go on.

There will be loads of people who help me though this, and I will try to mention them as I go along. I have mentioned some of them earlier (Matthew, Errol, Raph) but the most important person is my wife, Helen. She will face the worst of me and will have to mop up the bits (literally as well as metaphorically). She deserves your prayers as much as I do - in fact probably more.

thank you and god bless

Graham