Final scan...

Tick tock, tick tock. I suppose I should be used to waiting by now! 5 more weeks until I can have my PET scan - 28th July. That seems so far away, but hay, I'm going to be so well and fit by then!

Fingers crossed

So today was the day that seemed so far away only six months ago, this
was the last scheduled chemo session. I'll shortly be sjeduled in for
a PET scan at the end of the month to confirm that the tumor has left
the building.

Wow, that feels good!

This last couple of sessions has just been so tiring but we've made
it. I had a new nurse today who couldn't believe that I still had my
hair, something about 11years nursing and not having seen anything
like it. It's good to be a freek!

Well we now have the usual two weeks of ups and downs and back up then
we're off into uncharted territory. Wait for the scan results and wait
for the energy to return, then back to the real world, bring it on!

The last chemo!

Here we go. Smiling all the way and wearing a loud shirt.

Chemo 10

Well I'm done with Chemo number 10, only 2 to go. Now that feels great. Number 10 was the worst yet, very nasty but if it is making me feel that bad it should be giving the cancer hell. That was a week ago and the immediate affects passed as usual after 24 hours once the steroids worked their magic, the usual crash followed and three day later I'm back on my feet. Now I'm starting to wonder, what comes next?? How do I get fit enough to last more than an hour on my feet? When will I get an indication of not having to have any more poison poured through my veins? When can I usefully get back to work? All I know at the moments is that the treatment is getting progressively more debilitating, but only two more to go.

So what have we been up to since last updating? Straight after Chemo 9 we ran off down the M4 on our annual pilgrimage to Badminton Horse Trials. 5 days of camping and watching the best equestrian event in the world. If the weather is good camping is great, but May in England is unpredictable at best.... cold wet and windy, but the company was great and the steroids kept me going until the sun came out on the last day. Such fun!

I also had a CT scan at the beginning of the month and as yet I'm still awaiting the full results, but the verbal report from the radiologist was that the tumor was responding as predicted. Hopefully I'll get the full report next week when I see the consultant. Watch this space.....

Off to Badminton

Not to ride..... just to camp and watch all the shinanigans.

After the scan on Saturday I was hoping that as well as having chemo yesterday, I would also have got feedback from the scan. But alas, the UK bank holiday got in the way and the info had not made it from the radiologist's desk onto the computer system. The preliminary feedback was that the cancer is responding well to the treatment, but my consultant has yet to see the reports.

8 out of 12, wear sunscreen

So Chemo no. 8 has been and gone, and I have a scan at the end of this week. The scan is routine and will hopefully just confirm that I have 4 more hits to go then I'm free! Watch this space.

The Docs are still impressed with the fact that my hair is mostly intact, I've even had to have another haircut. The one thing that I I have been warned about is the evil effects of the sun, so loads of sunscreen and big hats. So I can look at the fine spring weather but I'm not allowed to touch! All the talk of sunscreen reminded me of the the 1997 monologue:

Advice, Like Youth, Probably Just Wasted On The Young

By Mary Schmich

[ Reprinted without permission from the Chicago Tribune. Originally published: Sunday, June 1, 1997. Initially attributed as written by Kurt Vonnegut for the 1997 MIT graduation ceremony. ]

Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.

I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt.

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

• Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
• Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
• Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.
• Do one thing every day that scares you.
• Sing.
• Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
• Floss.
• Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.
• Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
• Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
• Stretch.
• Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
• Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.
• Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.
• Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
• Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
• Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
• Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
• Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
• Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
• Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.
• Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
• Travel.
• Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
• Respect your elders.
• Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
• Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.
• Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

...... But trust me on the sunscreen.

What a way to relax

This is the way to relax after a good hit of chemo...  A spot of jumping then a cool dip in the river, the prefect end to the day.

Chemo 6 has now been and gone, so we are half way through the full set.  I should be having a scan after No. 8 but all the sign are that the cancer is responding to the treatment and that my body is holding up surprisingly well.  Lots of happy doctors, always a good sign.  The treatment is hitting harder and harder each time but I appear to be built out of stronger stuff and just keep on going.  We even managed a spot of competing last weekend, a rosette for 4th place, even if we were beaten by Boo and Hugo!  It makes it all worthwhile.