A Pain in the Bum

The patio outside the ward – not bad eh?

Tuesday 29 October

The admission to hospital was quick and straightforward. After I’d changed into my nightclothes the nurse came and recorded my vitals and took some blood. My blood pressure was good. ‘You’re a teenager,’ the nurse said to me. I went for radiotherapy treatment and was given a diet sheet of what I could and could not eat and drink as the radiotherapy could cause diarrhoea due to the area I was being treated. I was then hooked up to the IV for my chemotherapy treatment. The chemo lasted for 23 hours, and the trolley was therefore my constant companion. It turned out to be quite a busy day (for a hospital patient) as student nurses asked if they could take a case history and examine my heart and lungs and had visits from both a junior doctor and the main ward doctor. They ensured that I knew exactly what was going on and advised me to ask for them if I had any issues. As usual, most of the nursing staff spoke very good English, for which I’m extremely grateful. Yes, I know I should probably learn Greek, but I prefer to spend any spare time on writing my novels – poor excuse I know, but there you have it.

I also had a visit from PASYKAF a charity who provide various services including home, palliative and medical care, psychological support, social support, physiotherapy, various clinics, patient transport services and a bereavement support service. The organisation is run purely by volunteers and they are awesome people. An administrator and a doctor visited me and I discussed where I might obtain a cushion for my soon to be tender derriere. They asked me to leave it with them and they would obtain one for me.

I didn’t experience any adverse side-effects from the chemotherapy which wasn’t as aggressive a type as the chemo I received for breast cancer.

2 November

The remaining days in hospital were pretty uneventful and I was discharged from late afternoon and given meds and a list of when to take them. Allan picked me up and it was wonderful to see him and to be going home, even though I’d only been in hospital for five days. We had a long cuddle, and everything was all right with the world again; well, it would be, once I was reunited with Sandy. When we arrived home and Allan opened the door, Sandy went ballistic! There’s nothing quite like a welcome from the dog you love, and I lapped it up. We sat on the settee and had mega cwtches before I unpacked, and Allan insisted on helping me when I needed it.

I also had a lovely surprise waiting for me. Nonnie (Al’s sister) and Norma and Gordie (our niece and her partner) had sent me a lovely pressie to let me know they were thinking of me and rooting for me. It’s a lovely cwtchy dressing gown and I love it!

3 November

The old trouble started early in the morning when I took the ’30 minutes before breakfast tablet.’ There was Armageddon in the bathroom shortly after and I had diarrhoea thirteen times that day. Needless to say, I didn’t take that tablet the following day.

6 November

I had now finished the chemo tablets and had been back to radiotherapy since the beginning of the week. It quickly became apparent that the diet sheet I’d been given wasn’t working very well for me, so I asked to see the doctor the following day.

7 November

I was asked to wait in the changing room following my treatment as the doctor would come to see me. When we discussed my diet and my diarrhoea problems, he advised that I could eat bananas, chicken potatoes (without the skin), white rice and white bread, and carrots and courgettes. No coffee, a maximum of two cups of tea per day and plenty of water. No dairy and no vegetables that would give me wind. No salads or raw vegetables either. He said I could eat fish which was good because I only like smoked salmon. Unfortunately, this was off the menu because the fish had to be cooked. When I told him that this diet would be difficult for me, he said it was only for another five weeks and basically to suck it up, buttercup (my words, not his.)

8 November

Even rice made me go to the loo, so I risked a hard-boiled egg roll and didn’t experience any unwanted consequences. My daily diet consisted of a banana for breakfast before radiotherapy, then a boiled-egg roll for brunch (because it was far too early to call it lunch). Jelly with half-peach slices for an afternoon snack and then chicken, cooked potato and carrots for dinner. Kudos to the doctor as this worked for me and my toilet habits returned to the level of pre-cancer (before my first cancer that is).

The following weeks were uneventful until Maltesergate.

16 November

I was totally bored with my diet and feeling better than I had anticipated (and been warned about) at this stage. I therefore decided that, as it was the weekend and nothing awful had happened recently, I would risk eating some Maltesers that night while we were watching a TV show. I’m not even sure whether my system digested the Maltesers or just said, ‘nah, these are not for us,’ but when I went to bed, all hell let loose. Imodium was my best friend last night and my system settled down the following day. I’d love to say lesson learnt, but…

23 November

I was missing my daily coffee so I decided to experiment by drinking it at the weekend in the hope it wouldn’t do me much harm. I’m glad to say it was nothing like Maltesergate and I now have something different to look forward to at the weekends. I forgot to mention that one plain biscuit was also consumed with no detrimental bowel effects.

24 November

I was beginning to feel that the side-effects of this treatment weren’t going to be as bad as anticipated. Bepanthol, the recommended cream was doing nothing for my skin and two weeks into treatment I’d started to use Flamigel after Googling the hell out of ‘best creams to use on radiotherapy treated skin’. Different creams work for different people, and I soon discovered that this was the one for me. My skin seemed to calm down and, although it was still painful, it wasn’t as bad as before I started using it. I was also doing daily sitz baths with cold camomile tea which also helped.

25 November

The weather had taken a turn for the worse in Cyprus and during that afternoon I suffered a severe Raynaud’s attack – well what I thought was a Raynaud’s attack as I was shaking due to feeling so cold. Allan deployed the hot air heaters, put the central heating on, made me a cup of tea and wrapped me up like an Innuit. Despite this I still didn’t feel too bad overall.

Due to go back into hospital on Tuesday 26 November, I started telling family and friends that things weren’t as bad as expected at this stage and I felt a lot better than I had during breast cancer treatment. I so wish that I hadn’t tempted fate.