Thursday, its Christmas and I go through my morning rituals end up with breakfast with my meds and my pre chemo steroids. After I am fuelled along with the rest if the family there are Happy Christmas messages to read and send. Then comes presents! Wow so many lovely things from techno picture frames and hand casting kits to lovely warm jackets and hoodies. I am sure some of you will get to see them soon. My best and greatest surprise and joy was my partners gift. She has bought me a Montblanc fountain pen with my name on it. I used to have one long ago but it disappeared somewhere in the prison service days, I suspected larceny! I never thought I would have another Montblanc so I am delighted. I also got Montblanc ink which I had never had before. Of course I fill the new pan and write a “here is my new pen” paragraph. It was magical, as smooth as I remembered and so easy to write with. I have been very tardy in my letter writing recently but now I shall return to my writing ways just for the sheer joy using my new pen and friendship of course.
The rest of the day was huge amounts of food, with which I had a glass of red wine, my one unit for the year. There was the King and TV and more many sweet things, including a flaming Christmas pudding and brandy butter and the hanging of the new tree decoration which reflects my partners new gardening interests.
The evening ends with my meds and steroids as I clamber into bed ready for tomorrow.
FIRST CHEMO DAY
Friday boxing day first Chemo day. I am up and making warm drinks before taking my vitals. All good there after some deep breathing. I get up and have breakfast with meds and steroids and then it is tidying up and preparing for this afternoon. 3pm is poisoning time so I have to make sure I have everything ready and my Chemo bag filled with all the things I need, including my new travel wallet with all my chemo documents and numbers in it along with a book to read, ear buds, phone of course and my journal to jot down any observations or instructions. I shall add a can of red bull and reading glasses, oh of course my emergency power pack. So its all down to ordering an Uber and holding my nerve now. As always the dilemma is what to wear, need to look like I am still capable of being smart without over doing it and have considered what the procedure requires. I have marked time for 25 days doing nothing to fight, today I get started again, my strength and will to live versus the cells that would kill me. Today I stand again.
At the appropriate time I call an Uber and my partner and I pile in and ride in comfort to the hospital. On arrival I hand in my appointment card and get directed to the upstairs chemo suite. My partner and I settle into the waiting area. My partner gets out her knitting and I get out Mahmound Darwish’s Unfortunately, It was Paradise, Selected Poems. There we sit and wait until my name is called early. I enter the chemo room to find it much upgraded from six years ago, it is far more plush and comfortable. I am the only man amongst half a dozen women who are clearly having post head operations therapy.
A nurse arrives and checks who I am and prepares me for my session. He gets my cannula in first time (no wobbly veins this time) and ready’s me for my poisoning. He also brings me next sessions pre meds and the additional steroids and just for good luck a pack of anti nausea pills, I’m hoping these will be redundant. So I am ready with my cannula and then my poison bag gets plugged in and the machine start to pump the poison in. So I begin to read my poetry book to pass the time.
After an hour or so the machine beeps and a nurse switches me to saline for a few minutes. At last I am done, the nurse returns and removes the cannula and gives me a fluffy cloud on the back of my hand. Once I have sorted myself out I am free to leave, of course the first thing I do is go for a much needed piss. I collect my partner and we head for the hotel across the way from the hospital. The Uber is super quick and we are soon home. I start drinking water like no tomorrow and return to drafting the blog while watching a rugby game. There are some admin tasks to do like integrating the new drugs, and sorting out my children’s toothbrush but most of all making sure everything is in my diary.
I continue to drink water profusely and of course pee at frequent intervals. It seems cruel to tell a man with prostate cancer to drink 2 litres of water a day. I drift into evening via a festive turkey curry and a share of After Eights. I shall work my way through the evening until it is drugs time and time to sleep.
I am now convinced that I have made the right decision, it feels so much better to be doing something to fight the cancer. I have of course have bouts of hyper sensitivity where I find myself examining every aspect of my feelings and bodily sensations. So far so good, with luck the huge amounts of water will do the job of flushing out the poison and hopefully there will be no nausea. At least now I am in the fight and that is good and Rocket can get to work again properly. I stand and I am vertical.
