10 days

Another quick post - a quiet day yesterday, did nothing, but still exhausted. I did kinda lie around all day. Most of the kids disappeared to friends or shopping in the town, so that was just as well really.

Helen was out with friends yesterday evening, so I was fighting to stay awake at the end of the day. She was down in Berwick-upon-Tweed and didn't get back until around 1.30 in the morning - dirty stop-out. It all means that I woke up as tired as I went to sleep.

Probably go for a sleep later this afternoon, but I prefer not to do that, because I am afraid that I won't get to sleep tonight.

more soon

Graham

Friday - 11 days to go

(but I am not counting - honest)!!!

After being awake all night Tue - Wed, the last two nights have been fairly settled, albeit I have been worried that I would not get to sleep. In the end though I managed to get two full nights sleep. I am still waking up in the morning almost as tired as I have been going to bed, but there you go.

I have taken this week off work and I am glad that I have done so. I am not sure how I would be getting through the day. I suppose that it is not so much the during the day bit, but rather how I would feel in the evening and also by this time at the end of the week. I don't know how much I have in the way of energy reserves.

I have one more dose of the steroid to go - sometime this afternoon, For the fist four cycles I was taking it at the same time as the evening chemo dose and I that, I am not sure, was one of the main cause of my sleeplessness at night. When I saw the consultant at the half way point, he suggested that I took the steroid during the day - not quite so convenient, from a remembering point of view, but certainly better that being awake at 4 am. In general, when I have managed to do so, it has made a difference as you can see from above.

I am not looking forward to this weekend, as I come off the steroid. I think there are withdrawal symptoms from this. I am generally very tired for the weekend and into the Monday and it has really been the Tuesday of the next week before I start to feel a bit more human again, but this is the last time (just keep repeating it to yourself, Graham).

that is enough for now,
back soon

God bless

Graham

Windows 7 beta

I have been testing the latest version of Windows recently - Windows 7, which has been released as a beta (test version), available form the Microsoft website here. It should be available for download for another week or two. I have in installed on a laptop and a desktop at the moment and have found it to be mainly stable. I have had one or two problems, mainly to do with drivers for older legacy components.

Other than that, I have found that I like the new interface. It is not ready to test as an upgrade to a working system, but if you are fortunate enough to have an older machine lying around gathering dust then it may be worth having a go with it.

It seems to be reasonably stable, and in line with Microsoft claims, does not seem to use as may resources and Vista. Perhaps this is actually vista as it should have been, as some commentators have been saying.

The laptop has a core duo (not a core 2 duo - this was before they were released) and 2GB ram. The desktop has a P4 processor, although it again has 2GB ram. As with vista the more ram that you can add the better. I think the recommended minimum for Windows 7 is 1GB and a 1GHz processor (so some PIII processors may just scrape in there, but I don't know that I would want to run Windows 7 with a PIII).

A would suggest that a more reasonable minimum would be a P4 processor (preferably a dual core P4D) or above and 2GB ram - about the same spec as my test desktop, which is quite happily streaming music from the laptop and playing it (it is using 14% processor and 36% memory).

If you do decide to take the plunge, leave some feedback.

happy testing

Graham

13 days to go

I have thirteen days of treatment left, assuming I don't miss a day by accident - which sometimes happens at the weekends when our normal routine goes to pot. I have started taking the capecitabene and the steroid drugs- and was awake until 4.30 this morning :-(

We went to see the genetics councillor today, at SHJ - and found out that her son is in Claires' music class - small world.

The main thing to come out of today is that the kids have a slightly increased risk of this, but because there is no family history apart from me, there is not a major problem. They will be offered a colonoscopy in the future - probably in their mid-thirty's so there is no rush.

I am going to get them to check my blood for a particular marker which may indicate something hereditary, but even then the kids won't need to be tested for another ten or fifteen years. I suppose that my brother and sister may be interested, so I will get them the information when it comes to me.

I have started to get the main symptoms now. I have the tingling in my hands and feet when I come into contact with anything cold, like the laminate flooring! obviously I have had problems with sleeping (caused by the steroids). I am hoping that taking the second dose in the middle of the day will mean that I don't spend the entire night awake again. I don't think I have been overly grumpy this time, but is is early days yet - that could arrive any time until the beginning of next week along with the tunnel vision and other side affects.

well, that is enough just now. I will update again tomorrow.

god bless
Graham

The Home Straight

I meant to post this earlier this morning, but ran out of time....

I have been at St John's (SJH) today for the start of my final treatment. Hooray! It doesn't seem like six months since it all started - it seems to have flown by. I hope to post a quick post every day for the next couple of weeks (but don't hold your breath if I don't manage every day).

I guess that I have been looking forward to today for a while (approximately six months in fact!), but as I say it seems to have come round very fast. I suppose that it helps having the time broken up into the convenient three week blocks made the time disappear.

So today was a normal morning at the chemo unit. I was due at 10.00 and left the house just after 9.30, having taken my pre-chemo anti-sickness drugs. These are the ones that disrupt all my normal bodily functions (like sleeping at night and other boring stuff like that!). I got to the hospital and fought for a parking space. It was worse today than it has been - although there was a bonus because the parking charge has been withdrawn as from the end of last year. I did see lots of men in fluorescent jackets checking cars - people seem to just park anywhere and the car park is too small, so they were sticking things on cars on the end of the rows. I don't know if it was a polite reminder or a parking charge (probably the later in fact). Anyway I got lucky (or maybe someone was watching out for me) - I saw someone getting into their car so i just hovered around waiting for them to leave.

10.00 is the first appointment of the day, so I got my favourite seat in the treatment room, and was the first patient hooked up. There are very nice volunteers that bring cups of tea or coffee, so I was set for the morning.

The treatment went as planed and I finished just before 1.00. Normally during the morning, one of the nurses comes round and books the next appointment for three weeks time. It felt good telling them this time that I didn't need to book one.

Having said that, once you are in the system they don't let go (I have an appointment tomorrow with the geneticist to discuss the possibility that my cancer is hereditary. This has implications for my brother and sister (and my parents too I suppose) as well as all my children. I will blog about that tomorrow. Also as I walked out the door, I was handed an appointment to see the oncologist in a couple of weeks time. I will blog about that when I get round to it - this one is 'just to get me into the clinic system'. Like I say, once you are in the system, you can't escape.

To be honest that is unfair. Now that I have been diagnosed I am glad that they are going to keep tabs on me, and I am glad that I don't have to worry about the cost at all. I am so thankful that we have the NHS. If we had been in the US, I would probably had to have sold one of the cars to pay for the treatment. Those NI contributions and income tax don't seems to have been as much of a waste now. I always knew that, but it brings it home.

I can't remember if I have talked about it before, but just as I was starting the treatment and I knew what drugs I would receive, I googled them and worked out how much it would cost. I have two main drugs (I am only talking about the chemo drugs here, not the anti-sickness ones that I get at the same time), and I worked out that the cost of the treatment over the six months would be between 1200 and 14000 (depending on the dose that I received). As I say, thank goodness for the NHS.

That is enough for just now - I may write a sentence or two later, depending on how I feel and I will try to post an update tomorrow.

thank you and God bless

Graham

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