The Muse Returns

The muse is back and it’s time to write again. I have been spurred on by an email I received from a teacher saying how grateful he was because, having read my blog, he was able to help a young student who’s mother was going through chemo.

My phone line has been down for a few days and so I’ve been offline. It’s been quite nice to have a break from phone calls and the addictive pull of the computer. I get about ten phone calls a day from friends wanting up-to-date bulletins, and although I love to hear from people, it has, in fact, been quite peaceful and I actually managed to read a book which I haven’t had time to do for a while!

Note to friends of chemo patients – If you are not immediate family or very closely involved, one call a week is plenty and very much appreciated!

I’m now half way through my 2nd Chemo cycle and, in many ways, it has been an easier ride than the first one. Due to several factors, I believe.

1. Change of medication for nausea

Having told the doctors at the Marsden about the 3 day high I got on dexymethasone causing insomnia and upset stomach etc followed by an exhausted crash on the fifth day, they have changed the prescription for the three days of nausea. This new drug does not have the stimulant effect and is much easier on the stomach.

2. I have been taking the Medicinal Herbs

Two lots of 4 tablets and capsules twice a day and a pot of herb tea which were made up specially to suit my FEC chemo by the Haven’s Alex Haig who assured me that these healing and detoxifying herbs would help my body heal and get rid of the chemicals and I believe that has happened as my tongue is now nice and pink again after a week on them this time.

This has resulted in a different but better sequence of events in that without the previous chemical “high” I felt pretty ghastly on days two and three after the injections this time. Sort of like a ton of grey concrete has been poured into you. Pinning you to the bed with its weight causing nausea and coating your mouth with unpleasant saliva and great thirst. I also slept and slept and slept as there was no stimulant effect. But by day four, was well enough to totter out to lunch with my friend Diana and have a jolly time with 6 others. I was also able on day 1 to go out with the family to celebrate my birthday and eat well at our favourite Thai restaurant, the Blue Elephant at Fulham Broadway before the chemo cloud descended.

Since then I have had a very enjoyable few days feeling pretty well.

In addition to the change of medication and the continuing love & support of my family and friends, His Naughtiness has poured some loving midnight oil on my wounds via phone calls from the hospital. His total acceptance of me in this condition is so very healing and helpful.

The ongoing outpouring of love from just about everyone I know, continues to amaze me. I was trying to explain this to my friend Sue before the Carol concert in the beautiful chapel at the newly renovated Fulham Palace last night. She couldn’t understand why I was so surprised. I guess, as usual, the misconception that I am unlovable unless I am healthy; looking attractive and being successful originated in childhood.

My parents, God bless them both, did the very best they could and were as loving as they were able to be, however, the damage incurred by two albeit glamorous and charismatic alcoholic parents vis a vis lack of support, trust, being there emotionally and the total absorption in each others’s “bad” behaviour does not instill confidence and self worth in children, and has taken a lifetime to shift. I don’t ever remember witnessing much care for other’s welfare. I don’t remember my parents ever visiting someone ill in hospital; People were rarely invited for supper at my house – only to grand parties once in a while . If I complained of feeling nervous or anxious, I was immediately medicated. I was given valium to take my driving test! And speed to keep me awake at the theatre. Brandy was the favourite for shock. We didn’t talk about or explore our feelings, and my mother’s mental illnesses were kept behind closed doors and hidden. Acceptable, to me meant you had to be viewed as beautiful or talented – preferably both – and rich and successful to boot. But the fact is that even though I was born to beautiful, rich, successful parents who managed to christen me in Westminster Abbey, and who lived a life that most people would envy alongside the likes of Ian Fleming and movie stars of the day, never gave me an iota of self worth, in fact the opposite applied because I could not seem to live up to the ideal

The paradox and gift that I am receiving now, is that even minus one boob, not working and with hair that is half its normal volume (which is leaving the scene as we speak), I have never felt so loved, accepted and needed by the people around me and this is treasure indeed! Gifts and cards continue to arrive on a daily basis from friends who have just heard and messages come from people like Florence, my dentists’ lovely receptionist and the girls at the beauty shop in Munster Road. Today I was taken to my 12th step meeting by Mary and then to lunch at the Baker and Oven off Walton Street with Mary and Deborah, and yet again, was firmly not allowed to pay!

I did pull out the cancer card last night. There were drinks and nibbles in the new great hall at Fulham Palace for an hour before the concert and not a chair in sight. “Would it be possible to have a chair please – I’m not very well and can’t stand for long?” I said to the lady organiser who was whizzing about in a stressed sort of way. “We don’t really have any extra chairs” she started to say “Only I’m on chemotherapy” I continued. A chair was produced in 30 seconds flat!!

I have to be very careful not to get an infection for the next four days as my white blood cells are being zapped and I would not be able to fight it, so if I do go out, I try not to touch door handles and rails and, as Connie keeps banging on “Please don’t touch your nose mouth or eyes, honey, promise me” as that and the breath are the germ vehicles. It’s a good idea to carry antiseptic wipes with you and I also put some Lavender aromatherapy oil on a hanky and hold it to my nose it I think someone looks a bit fluey.

Had a lovely conversation with my gynaecologist Mr Lyndsay McMillan this morning, who was responsible for the almost immaculate conception, although of course Robin is unmistakably the father, of the triplets born to his wife Jenny after many years of infertility. Lyndsay said that I must remember that all cases of breast cancer – at whatever stage; whether early or advanced; with or without lymph node invasion, carry an 86% chance of being healthy and well after five years.

I asked him what he thought my chances were and he said that they will probably have to take a contract out on me at 95!!! Seriously, my chances then start at 86% and rise because of no lymph node invasion. I also asked him if, because of my condition, and because I have a fibroid in my womb, whether they was an increased chance of this turning nasty and he mentioned something about Rocking Horse manure and we had a really good laugh.

Went to a beautiful carol service tonight at the Wetlands animal centre. Outdoors with candles and sheep and Mia’s school choir which she is in, singing two carols on the balcony. Feel very Christmassy this year. More so than usual, and so grateful for everything and everyone.