Chemo and radio? Done.
So here we are - I made it to August. And to the end of my chemo and radiotherapy!
HOOOOOORRRAAAAAAAYY!!
It's surprising how quickly those 28 days went, and how emotional it was to say goodbye to everyone at the radiotherapy centre. (There were tears and hugs, because I am a soppy fool.) Considering I was so worried about leaving the Royal Marsden and having to transfer down to Brighton, I don't think I could have had a nicer bunch of radiographers taking care of me. And all so patient about my erratic bladder! So as a final leaving treat, my bladder was of course not full enough and I had to come off the table. At least we could all laugh about the irony of having had a really successful couple of weeks and ending on a not so great run! It wouldn't be right for things to go smoothly on my last day!
When you see the same group of people day in, day out for nearly 6 weeks, it's strangely sad to say goodbye and know/hope you'll never see them again. Likewise, it was sad to say a final farewell to all the lovely older men I sat with in the waiting room every day. Another lovely lot, who it feels strange to know so well now and yet that's suddenly it. And you don't want to think about how many of us will make it through, but the thought did sneak in at the end.
In the last few days we met the loveliest couple, Shirley and Ed. Ed was there for treatment for prostate cancer, as nearly everyone else was, but chatting with them and hearing how Shirley had been through cancer treatment a few years before, and their son had battled a brain tumour for 10 years before losing his fight, it was amazing that they were so upbeat and positive. I was very sad not to see them on my last day and give them a massive cuddle because they were not only lovely to me but a real inspiration. Life can be really, really shitty but you have to keep on going and find the positives and happiness there is out there.
My final day at chemotherapy wasn't so sad. In fact, I was super excited. Probably annoyingly so for all the other patients! I'd completely failed at/given up looking for motivational T-shirts by this point, but my very clever Dad had me some T-shirts made and they went down a treat.
The lovely Mary Lou was my nurse for my last day, which felt right as she'd been there with me on my first day. It had all come full circle! The chemotherapy itself was nothing exciting, it all went smoothly. The only bit of excitement came a couple of weeks ago when I managed to knock my line and started dripping everywhere (it's really bloody tricky to go to the toilet, which you need to do constantly when they're pumping you full of fluids for hours, with a cannula stuck to the back of your hand! It was inevitable I was going to do something silly at some point!). Luckily it was just a loose connection and they could sort me out, rather than a failed cannula or bad vein which would have meant starting all over again.
Dad and I sat and watched Baxter count down to the last drip of my final bag of cisplatin. I was so excited to be done and get out of there. I do know I've been very lucky with the minimal side effects and the short dosage I've had, but I was so done and so ready to finish that yucky stuff. No more steroids, which had made my face, neck and shoulders swell like a hamster; no more fizzy metallic taste in my mouth after everything I ate; no more headaches and acid reflux - I could go back to feeling a bit more normal.
Sadly, more side effects from the radiotherapy were still to come and are still cracking on. The radiation keeps on working for a couple of weeks even after I've finished my sessions, and of course something had to get me eventually. Very dodgy bowels in my last week of treatment, which thankfully some excellent tablets have sorted out, but now my skin is starting to react. I thought I'd got away with it but sadly not. Imagine a really bad sunburn that has peeled and left the red, sensitive skin underneath exposed. Now imagine it all over your most private and sensitive bits. Grim. It's not too painful but it looks horrific. Like my skin is just melting off my body. I guess I am cooking from the inside out but still. Vom. I am some kind of horror film monster! Plus it means I can't shave or wax so my lady garden is looking meeeeental! Seriously, all these small things you don't even think about but all add up to you feeling incredibly gross and unattractive! Added to the continuing old lady bladder, stingy wees and religiously waking up at half 1 and half 5 every morning...it's not fun. GO FOR YOUR SMEARS!!!
Today I went for a follow up appointment with my oncologist in Worthing. It's really far too early for a check up and even though I knew it would be a pretty straight forward appointment, Steve still shuffled work around at the last minute to make sure he could come with me. Happy National Girlfriend day to me - the boy is bloody marvellous and stayed completely cool and calm despite the 40 minute delay at the hospital and only just getting to his next meeting by the skin of his teeth. Who needs fancy or expensive gifts when you have a man who has spent your entire relationship selflessly taking care of a sickly you? (Although I will also accept fancy and expensive gifts...) Rather loved up at the moment <3
As I thought, it was a bit of a nothingy appointment, just checking I wasn't suffering too many horrible side effects (all of the above are pretty normal so she wasn't worried) and booking me in for an MRI in 3 months time to check this has all worked. I bloody hope so!
There had previously been discussion of also having internal radiotherapy, called brachetherapy. This would have meant me being in hospital overnight with a probe lodged up my froo froo and giving radiation directly to my cervix and uterus. But seeing as Bob was nowhere to be seen around that area on any of my scans from the Royal Marsden, or on the MRI they did in Worthing, they don't think there would be much benefit. Especially as it would also be giving a high dose directly to my bladder and bowel too, and I'm pretty sure they don't need any more action! My poor body, I can't imagine much of my lower region will be recognisable when all this is done. Oh wait, I AM done!
So there we go. No more treatment for now, just waiting on my scan in 3 months time and then fingers crossed it will just be regular check ups for the next few years and no more Bob!
It has been a crazy few months and I know I said it in an earlier blog post but I really can't believe that this is my life. Everything has happened so quickly and was so ridiculously extreme that it doesn't feel real. 2 surgeries in 2 weeks, IVF treatment and then 6 weeks of chemo and radio. All back to back without time to breath. I have felt moments of complete joy (15 eggies on ice!) and moments of complete despair. I have cried, laughed, felt overwhelming sadness and self pity, cried some more, met some wonderful and remarkable people, been contacted by complete strangers who have been so kind and supportive as well as been shown such amazing love from my family and friends (so many lovely gifts ,including my very own 'Kicking Bob's Arse' cape from the amazing girls at work(!!), texts and messages of love, as well as offers of financial support and even surrogacy - I have the most fabulous people in my life.)
But I really need to thank those people who were there for me day in, day out and got me through it - my Mum and Dad, who have been my daily chauffeurs and have put up with my good and bad days, who cancelled a holiday to be there for me and listened to every grizzly detail (I think Dad knows my reproductive system better than I do!); Steve, who moved across 2 counties to be with me despite knowing what was to come, who lets me sleep and be boring whenever I need to be and who has taken care of me and my disgusting side effects without a grumble (although please note that I did let him add Sky Sports, which definitely softened the blow of living with me!); and to my amazing best girlies Kayleigh and Kaidee- both of whom have ridiculously busy lives and their own things to deal with but still text me constantly to check I was OK, forgave my rubbish forgetful chemo brain and came to see me whenever time allowed/I felt up to it. I absolutely couldn't have done it without you all, so thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you all like a fat girl loves cake... and you know I bloody love a cake!
I'm already starting to feel a little better and much more like me again. As of today I am back on the healthy eating regime (to shift the stone I've put on in the last 6 weeks...and the rest I really should have lost already!) Hopefully in another week or two I can get back to work, start to exercise a bit more regularly and just start to get back to some normality. The last 5 months have been all about cancer, and while I think it was right for me to put everything else on the back burner and really focus on my health this time around, I'm so bored of my life being all about Bob and everything he has stopped me doing. From now on, it's all about me and what I can achieve. I have big charity fundraising plans, starting with a big Macmillan coffee morning and training to run a 5k (maybe even a 10k!) around Disneyland Paris next year for The Royal Marsden. But I also have me plans - to go back to tap dancing classes, to get back into singing somehow and to go on lots of amazing trips before I force Steve into the awkward baby conversations!
I think there'll always be the feeling of 'when' rather 'if' in regards to Bob coming back, because he's already made a reappearance. So just in case he ever does, I don't want to have any regrets or wish I'd done the things I'd previously put off, thinking I was invincible and had 60 years ahead of me. No one knows what the future holds, and I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, or choke on a bit of cake I'm secretly scoffing in the dark so Steve doesn't find out. So let's live it. Let's go and do crazy things and embarrass ourselves being ridiculous. Who's with me?!