I arrived at hospital on the Monday morning prepared for a long week of treatment. In fact, the first couple of days went ok and as I'd experienced on other cycles the side effects didn't start kicking in until the third day. Monday was a very long day and I didn't finish my chemotherapy on the Ambulatory care ward until just before 9pm after which I headed to my room.
Just me left on the Ambulatory Care ward on Monday evening:
This was my accommodation for the five nights I was in and all in all they were very comfortable surroundings in a minimalist Travelodge type of way. Much better than being on a proper hospital ward anyway. Again, I'm fortunate to be within so close reach of a leading hospital that offers such facilities.
Following the end of my treatment on Tuesday I even felt up to head into Leeds with Jacki to grab a bit of fresh air and a bite to eat as my appetite wasn't affected at this stage. I did feel a bit clumsy however having to walk around whilst carrying the 3 litres of saline solution in my backpack which I was connected up to.
The frustration of being constantly connected to drugs and/or saline for 24 hours a day really becomes a bind after a while as it greatly limits the freedom you have to move around. And that's not mentioning the incessant beeping from the saline pack during the night every time a kink forms in the line which, of course, seemed to happen each time I turned to my favoured sleeping position. To add to this, the room I was staying in had two skylights to make up for the fact that there were no windows so I was awoken early each morning (at least it wasn't mid-summer!) to rays of light pouring down directly above me. It's safe to say I didn't have the best nights sleep over the five days.
By Thursday the side effects had really started to sneak up on me and I started to feel really tired and lethargic on top me starting to feel down and depressed knowing I still had two more nights before I could head home. Thankfully I'd been able to see Lyla on Wednesday which helped lift my spirits, but it was tough being away from her for so many nights, particularly when you're stuck in hospital surroundings every day. On the first couple of days I'd had the energy to grab breakfast and go for a walk outside before my treatment started, but by Thursday I simply didn't feel up to doing this and just waited in my room before I headed down for treatment.
As usual over the whole week the chemo nurses were absolutely amazing. I really can't speak highly enough about how professional yet personal they all are and how they take the time to really engage with all the patients. The doctors could certainly learn some useful lessons from the nurses in the way they deal with their patients as it's become increasingly evident to me over the weeks that as far as the doctors are concerned I'm simply another case file on the converyer belt. Whilst I'm obviously indebted to their knowledge and experience, it would be nice for them to appreciate a bit more that they're dealing with individuals who are experiencing a life threatening illness and so it's only natural to feel worried and concerned, and with this come a lot of questions and anxiety which I feel the doctors could deal with using more empathy.
I was so relieved to be disconnected from my saline pack before heading home on Saturday morning, although by this point I was feeling very unwell so was in no way able to celebrate. I lost count of the amount of hours I slept over the weekend and didn't have the energy to do anything - sitting outside in the garden for ten minutes like a zombie was about the highlight of what I was able to do. I also struggled with some of the side effects of the countless drugs I was taking including steroids and anti-nausea tablets which, whilst intended to combat the effects of the chemotherapy drugs, also bring their own side-effects, the worst of which for me was severe acid indigestion and involuntary shaking on my left foot and hand caused by the steroid tablets.
By the following Wednesday I'd started to pick up a bit (relatively) which was just as well as I was back in hospital for another Bleomycin top-up which thankfully went without any problems. The doctor also confirmed in my clinical appointment that my tumour markers had remained low (thank goodness) and so I only had the following Wednesday's session to go and I'd be all done - assuming my tumour markers don't take an unexpected spike again as they've done at the same stage of my previous cycles. To say I'm still nervous about next week's results would be an understatement.
I was also a little taken aback by the doctors warning that it would likely take up to six months before my energy levels would return to normal levels again. At this current moment I can believe this as whilst my mind is starting to feel like its getting back to being in the land of the living again - although I'm definitely suffering from what's referred to as chemo brain (very fuzzy head and my short-term memory seems to be terrible) the rest of my body is lagging behind even more. I'd prepared for my recovery to last many weeks after treatment had finished, but the thought of this lasting up to six months is a little concerning.
I'm also starting to come to the realisation now as I'm about to reach the end of my treatment - which I'm extremely happy about - that I'll also be entering the next phase of the unknown where I won't be taking any proactive steps to tackle anything. As unwelcome as the chemotherapy has been, at least I know I'm doing something positive to tackle the problem, whereas all I'll be able to do from next week is wait and hope that my next scan in a few weeks shows that any signs of the cancer have completely cleared. But, as I happened to read in a quote, "What's the point in worrying about the unknown? It's akin to walking around with an umbrella up waiting for it to rain." Very true, but easier said than done!
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