Wednesday, 22 September 2010

let's not start sucking each others cocks just yet ...

I think the theme of this blog is 'expectation management' as today I have been greeted by air-punching, high-five giving, whooping and cheering friends, who probably just need a little gentle reality check ... and whilst I certainly don't want to piss on anyone's firework, I may well have to spit on a few sparklers.

(Fuck me, that was a great expression. I should write this stuff down.)

Right. Pay attention. Because I'm bored of correcting you lot and answering the same questions over and over. Read carefully. There may be an exam. There will be bullet-points.

The current situation ...

  • My previous R-chop chemo has failed.
  • It is suspected that I am showing Hodgkins and Non Hodgkins lymphoma at the same time.
  • It is suspected that the Hodgkins cells are the ones that responded to chemo.
  • The non-Hodgkins cells are basically chemo-resistant and will ultimately kill me if not treated.
  • The Pain that I frequently talk about in my side, is not adhesions, but a new tumor growing where my spleen was.
  • I have new cancer lumps in my chest and other parts of the upper body.
The plan ...
  • I will have to undertake two 5 day 'in-house' chemo treatments.
  • The new chemo is called R-ESHAP. You can read more about it here.
  • Each treatment is performed continuously for 5 days. I will live on a ward, but not in isolation.
  • After treatment One there will be a 3 week interval.
  • I will then spend another 5 days in hospital having treatment Two.
  • I will then wait another 3 weeks.
  • Another CT/PET scan will then be taken to compare with the most recent one.
  • Please understand this: R-ESHAP will NOT cure me. It is designed to hopefully put the both types of chemo into remission, so stem-cell treatment can begin. More on that in a moment.
  • I will only have the Two treatments, regardless.
  • There is a "40 to 50 percent chance" that R-ESHAP will reduce all types of cancer and put them into remission. Or a 50-60 chance that it will fail, if you are a glass-half-empty kind of chap.
  • If the scan results fails to show a "significant reduction" in ALL cancer and tumors, then we are at the giving-up place again. There are no more options. I write a Bucket List and a killer funeral playlist.
  • If it manages to put all cancer into remission then (and only then) will I start the hell of the stem-cell bone marrow treatment, which will entail either using my own or donor bone-marrow and a long and difficult procedure at a top London cancer centre - the 'boy in the bubble' treatment that I spoke of before. I have no real details on that yet, but should we get through the R-ESHAP then I will be told more. 


So then, I'm afraid to tell you that we are going to be playing the 'waiting for the results' game again in about 10 weeks or so. The scan results after the two treatments will mean another painful wait for you and me.

Regardless, my path to full remission is a rocky one. Two solid weeks of chemo, a toss of a coin that it works and if I'm lucky then a final 'shit or bust' treatment that will come with it's own set of scary odds (that I don't know yet).

So, dear, dear readers. Feel free to celebrate and feel happy that today I got my life sentence suspended, but know that I'm only on bail and will be appearing in front of the judge again in about 10 or so weeks.

----------------------------

Fuck me, this is one hell of a bog blog,huh? Top British drama, hard-hitting and full of cliffhangers.

I suffer for my art, dear readers, to keep you entertained and engrossed - as your lives are frankly too dull to be writing about.

I hope you're all enjoying the show.

If bored, go and flip some coins ... feeling lucky?

4 comments:

Simon said...

You're just chuffed because you got to use that particular headline - you've been waiting years for an appropriate post.

Nevertheless, it's a fine entry, a veritable 9.9. The only thing that let you down was the "bog" in the last section. Sorry to spit on your sparkler, to quote a good friend, but I couldn't let that particular one slip past the proof-reading process.

I hear what you're saying but I remain hopeful ("blindly, stubbornly" I hear you cry). I can't help but agree with my brother - we ought to be shooting little snippets of video: Spence collapsed on the chemo couch, groaning; Spence shaving his head; Spence dragging himself into the chemo ward again, cursing and swearing; Spence triggering the Geiger counter and, let's not forget the all time number one, Spence curled up in a miserable ball with his arse in the air on my living room floor. Video that we can put them together in a montage, set to the Rocky theme tune, when all this is over and we're all wondering what we were so worried about.

xxx

The Kemo Kid said...

You're the best poof reader, mate. ;)

Jen said...

Thanks for more news - fucking hate it....were all thinking about you here, I've seen seriously sick people survive and lead normal lives - you'll be fine - end of

love you

x

Anonymous said...

Like I said in the beginning, you can have my marrow any time. Ju xxx