When you wish upon a star...Cycle 2, Day 17

No chemo this week, but a trip to the hospital this morning for Steve's CT scan and an X-ray to assess the effectiveness of the treatment to date. Joy of joy! No hitches today - a smooth operation from start to finish.

We arrived early for the CT scan appointment in the hope that Steve could be fitted in for the un-timed X-ray beforehand. It turned out to be a good tactic. He was X-rayed within a few minutes of arrival before the queues built up, and in good time for the CT scan, which happened on schedule.

10-15 minutes over coffee in the cafe before leaving hospital, just to make sure there was no adverse reaction to this morning's procedures, then home. Now we wait for the assessment, fingers crossed that all will be well when we get the results next week.

Steve calculates that this is his 3rd CT scan and 7th X-ray since the first exploratory visit to the hospital back in May. It's a wonder he isn't twinkling like a star!

Which reminds me, watch out for the Perseid shooting stars tonight and make a wish for a positive outcome for Steve, if you are lucky enough to see one....

Today's quote is courtesy of Glyn. It seems very apt. Thanks, Glyn!

"Things turn out best for people who make the best of the way things turn out"

John Wooden

American

b.1910

OBG....OPS.....testing, testing... Cycle 2, Day 16

Today was a test of Steve's stamina...and mine, for that matter.

We walked to the Oxford Botanic Gardens (OBG) this morning fully loaded with all our photographic kit: cameras, lenses, spare batteries and battery pack, monopod, lens cleaning papers and such like and spent a happy couple of hours experimenting with the new telephoto and macro lenses with mixed results, as expected. However, enough good stuff to encourage us to persevere.....

Lunch in town, followed by a bit of shopping for dressing up clothes - things to help us look the part when we go to the Goodwood Revival event in September, trying to dress for the 50s era - then the walk home mid-afternoon, carrying even more than we started out with. But we made it.

Time to catch our breath at home, shower, hair wash, then out again early evening to the private view of the Oxford Photographic Society's (OPS) Annual Exhibition in The Gallery, Oxford Town Hall. Jolly good it was too. Do go if you are down this way - details on this link http://www.oxfordphotosociety.co.uk/home.htm

It's early evening now and we are both whacked. But Steve has done remarkably well for someone in his condition and passed the test with flying colours. Long may it last!

Paranoia ......Cycle 2 , Day 15

The young man greeted us this afternoon with a smile and a firm handshake each as he invited us to sit down to discuss opening a new account. Seconds later, he cupped his hands over his mouth and gave a nasty, chesty cough, an action he repeated several times in the course of the next few minutes.

Steve and I swapped knowing glances, then Steve diplomatically withdrew to a safe distance whilst I explained that his immune system was compromised due to chemotherapy, and he needed to avoid infections. I felt like adding, why on earth don't you use tissue to catch your germs, not your hands? But ended up holding my tongue for fear of sounding like an old fuss-pot....

Nevertheless, rather than take the leaflet the advisor had been handling, I discretely pulled a fresh one from the rack when he left me alone to check something with a colleague. Sadly, efforts to avoid physical contact with this bug-carrier were to no avail; he shook hands enthusiastically with me when saying goodbye and only just stopped himself doing the same to Steve.

If we come down with a dose of the dreaded swine flu or some other nasty illness in the next few days I shall be very, very annoyed. Or have I just developed a severe case of paranoia? Now where did I put the antiseptic hand gel???

Paranoia strikes deep

Into your life it will creep

It starts when your always afraid

You step out of line, the man come and take you away...

Buffalo Springfield

For What Its Worth

Good Day Sunshine... Cycle 2, Day 12

We picked up my new monitor from Surbiton this morning and went on to Ham House by the Thames for lunch and to explore. Green parakeets flitted in the trees, the gardens looked great, and the house was fascinating - a 17th century time warp.

The anti-nausea tablets are working, and Steve enjoyed his lunch in the Orangery cafe.

On the return journey, I couldn't help noticing that a large advertising hoarding outside the entrance to Gunnersbury Park which I had dismissed on appeal, had been removed. Result!

All round, it was good day and the sun shone. Cue a song..........

I need to laugh, and when the sun is out
I've got something I can laugh about
I feel good, in a special way
I'm in love and it's a sunny day

The Beatles 1966

Appearances can be deceptive ....Cycle 2, Day 11

Unlike the mayhem of last Friday, the Oncology Ward at the hospital appeared quiet, calm and orderly when we arrived this morning shortly before 11 am. The receptionist greeted Steve by name - he's now one of the regulars - and before long, we were ensconced in a side room ready for the normal round of observations and taking of blood samples that precedes chemo. A "new" nurse, Charlie, has been assigned to look after Steve now that Alana is on maternity leave, although she is not a stranger to us, having helped out on previous occasions.

As everything seemed under control, Steve tempted fate by declining the invitation to order lunch on the assumption that we would be home a couple of hours later. Perhaps, not the best plan with the benefit of hindsight.....Everything seemed to be going well, until Charlie reappeared to say there was a problem. The ward's blood sample testing machine was misbehaving and would not produce a complete set of test results, and the lab machine was also playing up, so Steve's bloods would have to be sent away for testing. We had no option but to sit and look at the papers, do a crossword, a sudoko or two, read a bit more of our respective books and watch the lunch trolley come and go....

By 1.30 p.m. we accepted the inevitable - we were in for the long haul. I was dispatched to buy sandwiches and cookies to keep us going. Eventually Charlie reappeared with good news - all blood test results had come back "normal", so cleared to proceed.

Steve was given a form for an X-ray next week as well as the scan which will be used to help assess what effect the treatment is having. However, Charlie was concerned that the results of the tests might not be back in time to be assessed before the next dose of chemo is due, in which event the rest of Steve's treatment would have to be put on hold.

I think she must have seen the look of panic on our faces - we have just started to make plans around the rest of Steve's 21-day treatment cycles, and all my annual leave and "not-available' time off work has been arranged so that I can be there with him for future sessions. Whilst preparations were made to administer the Velcade, Charlie disappeared and eventually came back with a new appointment a day earlier than originally planned. All being well, this should leave enough time for the results to be assessed before Cycle 3 is due to start. Thank you, Charlie!

We eventually arrived home from today's session some five hours after setting out this morning. Good job we had nothing arranged or urgent jobs planned for this afternoon...

After today's session, Steve is a third of the way through his chemo doses. No treatment next week. Nevertheless, we'll be back at hospital again for the CT scan and X-ray. In the meantime there's a long weekend to look forward to, including a trip to Surrey to pick up a new monitor for me and a visit to Ham House on the way back where we will sample another National Trust tea room and try out our new camera lens.

In case you're wondering why there is an image of a flower at the start of today's blog, our niece Heather thinks that our botanical pictures are far prettier than those of Steve. This is especially for you, Heather and Zac. Enjoy!

Getting better; a reunion, a farewell and lost in transit...Cycle 2, Day 8

It seems that whatever was pulling Steve down over the last couple of days has relinquished its grip overnight. After the doom and gloom of the last two days and a good, long sleep, Steve was feeling better when he woke up this morning and has continued to improve as the day has gone on. The anti-nausea tablets are working and he is now eating and drinking. Phew.

Our feeling that things were on the up were given a small boost when a parking space close to the Cancer Care Centre became available just as we arrived at the hospital this morning, avoiding a long trek in the rain from a far-flung car park.

An even nicer surprise was waiting for us on the ward. Steve was allocated one of the single rooms and there, on the wall opposite the bed, was one of my two photographs chosen by the Hospital Trust for the Cancer Care Unit art project. We were tickled pink! And yes, it was positive and uplifting, as per the brief. I hope it has the same effect on others staying in the room for treatment. Perhaps we'll be reunited with the other picture on some future hospital visit.

Today we said our farewells to Alana, the drug trial nurse, who is about to start her maternity leave. Have a happy birth day, Alana. We look forward to news of the new arrival. But before then, there were a few hiccups with treatment.

After a long wait, it transpired that Steve's original blood sample had gone missing in transit somewhere between the ward and the lab, so a second sample had to be taken and cleared before treatment could begin. Whilst waiting, Steve had a saline drip to help boost his rehydration which was below par after the problems of the last two days, so a good use of what would otherwise have been a waste of time.

On the bright side, Steve's blood tests came back normal, so no lasting harm from a couple of days of feeling rough. Those results should have signaled the start of chemo. However, the Velcade was not waiting where it should have been - the driver had forgotten to unload it when he made his delivery, and could not be contacted until he returned to base. And then he had to come all the way back again.....

We eventually arrived home after 2 o'clock - a round trip of some four hours for a treatment which literally takes just a few seconds to administer, once the test results come back clear. Perhaps Friday's visit will run a little more smoothly....

Taking a dip .....Cycle 2, Day 7

Yesterday and today, Steve's taken a dip, not in the sea or a pool, but in himself.

He felt out of sorts on Sunday, so probably not a bad thing that we had to abandon plans for lunch out with friends to avoid the risk of Anne and Colin passing on the swine flu bug which their son has just come down with. Get well soon, Alex!

Things worsened as the day progressed and culminated in a mad dash for the bathroom around 5 am this morning - the emergency bucket has been close at hand since then. By this evening things had improved a little; Steve felt able to eat a small meal, drink some water and keep down the anti-nausea tablets for the first time today, before turning in for a very early night.

Whether its the cumulative impact of the Cisplatin (in which case, it's worrying to think that it won't get any better over the coming months) or a bout of food poisoning (or perhaps too much clotted cream with the strawberries?) we really cannot say. However, the prospect of going to hospital tomorrow for another dose of chemo is not something that either of us is looking forward to...

Perhaps the most difficult thing to deal with in these circumstances is the feeling of helplessness - I simply don't know what to do to make Steve feel comfortable. Steve says he doesn't know what to do either. The pair of us feel more like a couple of lost children than grown-ups in control of our fate (not that we've ever felt that much in control...) Let's hope we can develop some coping mechanisms to hep us get through times like this.

In her e-mail today, Lesley said when you're in a trough it's difficult to see through to the next high. Wise words - it actually helps to think in terms of lows and highs - at least that way, when you're down, you can look forward to coming back up again, rather than sinking even lower. Today was a definite trough. Let's hope it's bottomed out and we can begin to go up again soon.