Monday, 26 July 2010

"Don't get cocky, kid"

... As Han Solo once reminded Luke Skywaker, after he gleefully took out his first tie-fighter. Han somehow knew that a world of shit still awaited the young Jedi.

Not moments after posting my jubilant post yesterday, my insides felt the familiar vice like pinch on them and its been that way since 1am yesterday, ensuring quite literally no sleep and a day of saying "for fucks sake" a lot.

Eating is hell, drinking not much better. These sodding adhesions are literally, a pain ... Hot baths, lots of useless pills and gritted teeth are back on the main menu, with grumpiness and swearing for pudding.

Bon fucking appetit.
Sent from my BlackBerry® 9700 wireless device

R-Chop 3

Well, as the weekend draws to a slightly sticky-warm ending, I find myself three days into my third R-Chop session.

It's been even more gentle on me than ever. In fact, I've probably taken only half the amount of antiemetics that I normally take. The chemo has, however, managed to cement my insides together and I'm running on a 50:1 input-to-output ratio again. Something must give at some point. If you see me running, do not follow.

I had a rather underwhelming appointment with the surgeon before my R-Chop treatment. It turned out that I just met his assistant - someone I had met before - a nice guy, but still a middle-man. We had a chat about these adhesions, which he seemed to be in agreement about but, as expected, there was little to do now, except take on his worldly advise of "try not to get constipated" and meet again in three months once the chemo sessions are over and we know where we stand. I didn't really expect much could be done at this stage ... at least it is logged and recorded as an ongoing concern. I am still trying to fathom out exactly how not to get constipated. Stop giving me fucking chemo would seem to be the obvious answer.

But apart from that, treatment-wise, it is, as our American friends say, "all good".

In fact, despite the fact that I know I'm looking at a huge drop-off around Wednesday, when the steriods finish, the stomach pain kicks-in and I will return to being a moaning bastard, overall I'm getting optimistically excited as after my next chemo session, we get to 'stop and scan' - meaning we'll take another CT-Scan to see what lies insides.

I know I'm winning this battle. My highs continue to get higher and my fitness, 'looks' and health are returning. I'm able to work longer, rest less and really enjoy my weekends and free-time, finding excitement in life again.

And that's saying something from this miserable bastard.

Whilst I don't *really* expect an end to this R-Chop this time around, I am optimistic that by the end of this year, I will be getting a break from the ongoing poison-recover-poison routine.

As they say in certain rooms that I used to frequent ... "a day at a time - more will be revealed".

Saturday, 24 July 2010

"There Is Always Hope" - video

Hmmm ... this seems to becoming more of a music blog than a KemoKid blog recently ... Still, just know I'm well enough to be creative and rejoice.

A (slightly rushed) video for you ... enjoy.

*tip: change that '360p to 720HD' and then click the full-screen 'X' icon to the right. (You won't break it, Jimbo)

Sunday, 18 July 2010

"There Is Always Hope"

Here is a rather chilled tune I created this weekend ... Plug in some headphones, turn it up and close your eyes. Enjoy ... There Is Always Hope by DeleteAllContacts

Thursday, 15 July 2010

cancer stats

A quick blog.

I recently read a 'cancer survival figures' article on BBC News that some might find interesting, as it has the 10-year survival statistics for a range of cancers, (including my own Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, for the morbid).

I try not to get too hung up on statistics, as they are out of date the moment they are published, but it's certainly interesting to find out what cancers you definitely don't want. Pancreatic, for example. *shivers*

And Lung cancer? ... 5.3% survival rate. Smokers reading this should feel a twinge on guilt right now. Yup, that does means you.

Right ho ... here's the link

Tuesday, 13 July 2010

RIP John Worsfold

Thank you John for being so supportive of my recovery from alcoholism, my battle with cancer and all the ventures I embarked on. And thank you for looking after Mavis for all these years.

You were always a kind, bitingly funny, generous and warm man, who I really enjoyed getting to know better in the last few years. 

I won't forget the holidays you took me on as a child - and how patient you were with this precocious little brat.

My only regret is that we lost contact during my wilderness years, but it was a pleasure and a joy to rediscover you in later life.

You will be sorely missed - I've lost probably the biggest blog fan I will ever have. You even printed out the pictures of my spleen - now that is a true follower. I hope somewhere you get to read this.

Rest in peace now, John. You led a great, great life.

See you soon.


get knotted

A misery blog.

I haven't written one of these for a while.

I'm fed up.

I'm fed up because I'm in pain. And I'm very, very bored of being in pain.

The latest bout of pain comes from my 'guts' - I think it's the small intestine to be precise. It's not really a new thing - it's been on-going since my operation in one guise or other, but seems to getting worse, not better. The symptoms range from a sort of short, very sharp, indigestion 'squeeze' in the ol' tubes, to a feeling like a clamp has been placed around your insides, or someone is treading on them - which can last for about 45 mins. On top of these feelings, I get a referred pain in my shoulder - a nerve pain - exactly like I used to get when my spleen was growing. In fact, it's only the area where my spleen was that I'm getting all this pain - the other side is fine. To be honest, it's almost like I've got the same issue I had before - I can't stand up properly (hunching to protect the area), the pain is 'draining' me so I'm more tired and I can't sleep on one side. It's like the spleen never left me. Perhaps I just miss it and it's all a psychosomatic pain - like when people can feel their arm after it's been removed.

Anyway, as I was trying to describe the intensity of the pain at its worst to someone, I felt I nailed it when I said "if I was a 10 year year old kid, I would be screaming and crying". ie. it's pretty bad. It will stop me driving for a while, whilst I sit in car repeating the mantra 'fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck fuckofffuckofffuckofffuckoff fuckfuckfuck', whilst wearing down the leather on my steering wheel. The police have yet to be called.

The operation was a long time ago now. I haven't had a period of being able to painlessly eat and, er, poo since. I've had better times than others, but there has always been something 'up' and after this weekend's new found gear of pain, I'm officially fed-up.

I took some positive action though, I took a trip to the GP. I actually have an appointment to see the surgeon who performed the operation next week - in a kind of 'follow up' meeting, but I though I better see a GP to see if there was anything he suggested in the meantime.

The GP was great to be honest - he read my notes and listened and explained in a very clear way that it's quite possible that I have adhesions - and reading the Wiki's about them, this sounds right. They are, apparently, 'fibrous bands' that form after operations and can catch, hook and hinder the (in my case) bowel, intestines etc. Apparently women can suffer from these after a hysterectomy. The GP wrote a letter for my surgeon with his diagnosis.

So what can be done? Well, guess what. Yup, they can open you up and cut them. Which of course, means another operation, which could then mean ... you get the idea. My doctor said that the medical profession general turn people away a few times, hoping it will get better, then eventually when the pain is too much ... they operate.

All of this is conjecture at the moment really - I will have to wait until next week to speak to my surgeon. But I shall be letting him that I am, literally, not happy and that I am, in fact, very fucking fed-up.

In the meantime, I have been given some anti-spasm drugs that can stop the bowel et al from, well, spasming - I had these when I was in the AAU unit. More drugs. Lovely.

One of my favourite phrases at the moment seems to be "but if it wasn't for that, I'd feel fine" and this situation is a shining example. This is a non-chemo/cancer related incident and "if it wasn't for" the bloody pain in my guts/shoulder, then "i'd feel fine". To the point where if I had a proper functioning internal system, I would be down the gym, trying some light exercise and weights. The rest of me is in good form.

So that's the end of my latest misery blog. I'm fed up mostly because one of the few pleasures that a sober, drug-free, vegetarian, celibate, cancer battler has left on planet - eating - is being ruined by a dysfunctional internal system. Balls.

It would appear, I was born to suffer.

I will stay up on this cross for you a while longer yet.

Saturday, 10 July 2010

79p well spent: "Traps" on iTunes / Amazon

You can now buy my little song, 'Traps' on iTunes and Amazon. The video is somewhere below.

Just search for 'Delete All Contacts' either site and you should find it, or follow the links below.

iTunes link

Amazon MP3 link

I'd appreciate some reviews too (on iTunes/Amazon). Just think of it as a 79p subscription to this blog ... surely a years worth of my bad news and whinging is worth 79p? "The Times Online" charges a pound a day for their bad news and whinging nowadays, so consider this a bargain.

Enjoy the song. Or not. To be honest, I don't really care.

Just buy it.

Wednesday, 7 July 2010

as a coot

Well, as you may have heard, my hair finally fell out. I started off by having a very short 0.5 graded 'buzz cut', but that soon started to look patchy and, well, cancer-like.

So yesterday I took the plunge and did the proper thing ... it all came off.

I'm now looking somewhere between Shootings Star's 'George Doors', poisoned Russian spy Alexander Litvinenko, Tim Roth in 'Made in Britain' and a coot. Which are apparently very bald.

I guess this is no time for vanity but after looking through photos from last Summers' diving trip - where I was tanned, healthy and with hair - I cannot help but think 'Jesus Christ, what the hell happened here?'.

However, I am grateful that I'm not a female - that must truely be devastating. I can laugh at myself and get away with looking like this quite easily around these parts, but it seriously must be heart-breaking for women to lose their hair in this way.

Apart from the hair-loss, I'm feeling 'OK' although I've just had a very rough night with 'tummy issues', which I won't go into here. The new R-Chop regime is easier on me overall, but still comes with its up's and down's ... but overall, I'm pleased with the progress and compared to how I was with AVDB treatment and to how rough I felt when I was recovering from my operation, I cannot complain.

I'm writing shite today - I'm tired and nothing is flowing very well, so will sign off now, with a self-taken snapshot via a bathroom mirror.

Slaphead x

Sunday, 4 July 2010

more traps

Here's a simple video I made this morning for my "Traps" single, which should be appearing for download from iTunes, Amazon and others in the coming weeks. I'll keep you posted and you can all reward me for my obvious endless talents.

Don't forget you can change the setting to '720p' once you've hit 'play', which gives better quality. And then hit the 'Full Screen' icon.

A simple video full of stolen, cheesy images from The Internets, but hey, fuck it ... what did you do this morning at 8am, huh?

Enjoy ...

Friday, 2 July 2010

some sad news

Sad news.

My lovely grandma's husband (who I consider to be a 'grandad') is very ill in hospital. It's quite serious.

They are both readers of my blog and have been so, so, so supportive of everything I've been through, from the recovery of my drink/drug issue and through my current little adventure.

My thoughts and prayers are with him.

Sad days.

Thursday, 1 July 2010

R-Chop 2

Well, that's over.

Long day.

Back home.

I feel slighly fed-up, slightly sick ... but I'm OK.

Bed soon.