Monday morning Barbara and I walked to the hospital and talked
with Dr Lisa Horvath, my oncologist. I
then had a blood test, which delayed the start of the chemotherapy from 9.30 to
12.30. We went to the café until 10.30
but I became uncomfortable sitting upright in the waiting room. At noon I approached reception and was taken
to a bed. It was a relief to lie down.
The chemotherapy now takes place on the first floor of the
Chris O’Brien Lifehouse building, a magnificent new state of the art building. However, I think the new procedures are
inferior and unfriendly compared with the old approach. You check in with one of the clerks. Previously you did this but you also went and
let the nurses know you had arrived. You
cannot do this now as there is an electronic door barring the way. You are given no indication as to when you
will be attended to – very annoying.
You can ask the clerk when you will be attended to. The clerk then goes through the
electronically locked doors and comes back with an impersonal answer. And it is a very noisy process! We are lined up on seats in a waiting are
watching television. When the clerk goes
to find out when you will be seen, doors slam!
First, the door to the clerks’ area slams ‘bang’ and then the electronic
door slams ‘bang’ on entry and ‘bang’ again on return. Lastly, the door to the clerks area ‘bangs’
again. Noise, noise, noise, which is
burdensome when you feel unwell.
It was wonderful to be in the bed in a quiet area. The nurse looked after me well and Barbara
and I arrived home around 3.30 pm. I returned
home with the two-day bottle chemotherapy inserted.
During the two days I felt some nausea and took tablets to
relieve it. Indeed, I am taking more
tablets to make me feel comfortable than I ever have in my life. I am taking one or two Endones a day. It is not something I like doing but I am
finding it necessary.
Wednesday, middle of the day, I walked to the Lifehouse by
myself to have the finished chemo bottle removed. I had to wait over an hour, put up with
banging doors again and then had a trainee remove the bottle under
supervision. Again I felt sorry for
myself. I found it hard to walk home and
took another anti nausea tablet, which provided some relief.
Late afternoon, I ran into unexpected trouble with my colostomy
bag for the first time and felt very angry and upset. Barbara helped this poor, self-pitying,
bleating man. I need to shift how I feel
about things. Back in 2011 I felt more
up but this time I have been beaten down by the debilitation that has taken
place before starting the chemotherapy.
Today, Thursday March 13 I have been working quite a bit on the
computer, mainly handling BezCan Project
matters. I am glad to have this outward
focus where my concentration is on assisting in the education of children in two
primary schools in Kamuli, Uganda. I
have felt queasy still, which is like back in 2011 when I felt queasiest on the
day after the chemo. Barbara and I went
out for lunch and I had a nap when we returned.
My life is now in the hands of the chemotherapy
effectiveness. The liver is not working
properly. Our hope is that the chemo
reduces the cancer in the liver and enables it to operate properly again. If this occurs, then, statistically, I could
have up to three more years of life.
What I want is quality of life like I had in 2012 and 2013. I do not want to simply exist day to
day. So, I am hoping things will be
significantly improved within a few months.
David, very sorry to hear you are back on the Chemo. I was just talking to some of our employees about a another matter and they asked if I'd seen your blog. I don't pretend to know what you are going through but I have heard some wonderful turnaround cancer stories of late and sincerely hope that you too become one of those stories. Best wishes from myself and the Anitua Group management team.
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