It’s just news

Unexpectedly I’m done with chemo. It was taking me 9 weeks for my bloods to recover and then, having them being ok on Monday, they droppedagain before I had my planned treatment yesterday evening.......  yet again everything changes in 24 hours........ My sister and I headed up the road yesterday, all prepped for the start of cycle 3. Halfway point. As per our routine, my bloods had been taken on Monday and I’d had confirmation of take off. We had a great day in Belfast...... doing an important message and visiting work friends. 

By the time we got to the main event I was a bit tired, but happy, and ready....... My day was completely made by the sight of my gorgeous son popping in to say hi before his next lecture.

They took bloods again........ apparently they always do this (I can’t remember but confirmed by my sis!) I knew. I swear I knew. I even jokingly said to the nurse “If these have dropped and I don’t get treatment, I’m holding you personally responsible!”  A joke, no more than that. But deep down I knew. We sat. We waited. I practised deep breathing exercises, because I knew. 

Sure enough....... called in to the doctor to be told my neutrophils had dropped from 1.5  to 0.8. Just like that. Overnight. I’m not sure when I’ll ever really accept that your world can change so quickly. My own consultant and nurse it seems we’re busy somewhere else...... so, despite issuing the instruction, weren’t there to properly explain (in fairness, the clinic was packed and I’m sure they’d worse news to deliver)...... I wasn’t having any more chemo. No delay. No reduced dose. No extended regime. No more. Treatment over.  The doctor who told me was very good and answered every question thrown at her, but it was undoubtedly a massive bit of news. 

I have absolutely no doubt you have read that and translated it in exactly the same way I initially did..... “Go home, there’s no more we can do for you.” In a way that’s completely true, however........... and I’ve learnt there is always a ‘however’.......... the facts remain. 

Let’s look at them  (there’s a tv show nagging but I can’t quite get it.... “Let’s look at the facts”...... Crimewatch? ?);

We knew from the start my tumour was incurable. The agreement by all concerned was that we would throw everything available at it and see how much we could shift. The next step is to have a scan and find that out. We already know a lot was removed through the surgeries. My last scan was while I having chemo, so it was difficult to measure the effects of radio and chemo. The aim of treatment was always to get it to a manageable, non aggressive state....... the same as it’s been for years...... The scan helps us see if this has happened. Two bouts of a chemo that appears to have a very strong impact on my good cells, may have had significant impact on the bad ones too. Especially when it followed surgeries and radio. Chemo was always the final blast of RoundUp for the roots. Let’s see what the roots are doing, before we jump ahead into despair.  Maybe the weed has stopped growing. Regardless, I feel relieved of the checks in place to ensure you aren’t given more chemo than your body can take. 

This has been a horribly hard year for my whole family. And yet, let’s not forget, my husband is thoroughly enjoying a new job, my son has gone to a great university, and  I have shown myself what I’m capable of and made fantastic friends. Like every other year, there have been fantastic bits and awful bits....... the dips have just been a little more pronounced than anyone would like. 

 Now, for the first time since 20 January, I get to be out of treatment and not worrying about the next one. My body can finally have a proper break. Plus I can see properly “how I feel”, without wondering if it’s a side effect of chemo etc. Now I can see what life might actually look like. What will I need help with? What can I reasonably do? There’s a lot more in the second category than in the first..... I know that already.  Now I can properly assess all that and see how my new life is going to look.

I’m not trying to play down something and pretend I haven’t shed tears. It’s scary, but it’s always been scary. The truth is nothing has hugely changed. We’re all terminal from the moment we’re born......I’ve no more of a deadline than you have. 

As my very wise son said , “”It’s just news. It’s not inherently good or bad.”  He’s absolutely right. Let’s not catastrophise!!,,,,,, let’s enjoy not having chemo anymore!! And being alive! We’ve done as much as the science told us to do.  Now let’s see what’s next. Bearing in mind it’s been in there for years! My aim is to just get back to the way I was before this thing started stinging. (Although a calmer, hippier version!) xxx