DVT (deep vein thrombosis) DAY 16

So that was the phase that was, to parody an old satirical television programme. Now that I have the results of my scan and my latest blood tests I need to move on to whatever the next stage is. I was going to call it the “Fuck off and die stage” but this seems a bit disingenuous and not a reflection of how I now feel. My problem is that I am not sure what to call this phase. Make no mistake this is a phase which will see me having to battle and although I may hold my own for a while sooner or later cancer will have its way. Cancer is clever and will find its way back to get to me. This is a stage that is just normal cancer warfare although there are those who belong to the radical remission club who advocate loving ones cancer as part of oneself. I am not sure I can honestly embrace that view, it’s in my nature to grit my teeth and focus on the required outcome and try to move consistently in the direction required to achieve the outcome. At the moment it feels like a Spock moment: live long and prosper! Perhaps that is a better name for the phase I have now entered. I shall return to this.

So I woke to my new leper status of being one of the “shielded”. I get up to find my partner has been to the shop on her early morning exercise walk and is already fielding work calls. My daughter will not rise yet. So I breakfast and try to appraise Sainsburys of my “shielded” status but the phone line to them is down, the web page not corona virus orientated so all I can do is leave a complaint for them to contact me. As things stand where none of us are supposed to go out getting food is being tricky at least safely and within the Boris Rules. Sooner or later it’s going to have to shift. So after a frustrating and fruitless hour of calls, e-mails and surfing its time to self-stab and wait for the oncologist to call.

“He who made a pact with the devil” rings on time with a semi cheery “how are you”. From the first syllable it was apparent he wanted to be off as soon as possible. Can’t blame him really but he could hide it better. I told him about my DVT which warranted a grunt and then we were on to my blood results. Apparently they are good, which I knew and my anxiety about my higher ALT (liver function) was apparently misplaced as was my concern about my platelets. The oncologist theory about the ALT elevation was that I might have had a drink, I should be so fucking lucky it is now over a year since I have had any alcohol, perhaps I should start. The bone scan shows my spine cancer lesions are no bigger and appear not to be doing anything aggressive, although I get back ache more now, but that could be lack of exercise. The lymph system tumours in my hips have reduced from 25 mm to 15 mm, for clarification that’s smaller. In the words of the oncologist “it’s as good as it could be”. He said he would write me up for a tablet rather than an injection but I am not sure if he meant for the hormone depletion or the DVT injections, but I will find out when I get his letter. He will see me again in four months, not the three I was expecting, so I am clearly not a priority or a concern. He said he will send me a bloods form but he would have none of my requests for monthly blood test because he said he would not do anything with them. Totally missed the point or just did not want to get it, I doubt he got it, he is not the most emotionally intelligent consultant in the world. So that was it, I’m as good as it gets paraphrasing  Jack Nicholson who  famously said to a full psychiatrist’s waiting room, “Supposing this is as good as it gets?” May be that should be the name of my new phase; The Good as it Gets Phase. I might well go for it.

After the brief oncologist call it was time to retreat to the garden and to assemble the new raised bed that arrived during the oncologist call. There were supposed to be two of them so I spent time e-mailing the supplier via Amazon. The item is no longer available, made in China, so no surprise. My guess is that we got the last one and will have to wait till Christmas for the next one to arrive. Any way once I had sorted out what diagram 1 actually meant I put the thing together. My partner helped me place it on the patio and casually noted that it needed to be weather proofed and wandered off. She was of course inconveniently right. I fished a half tin of garden furniture varnish out of the garage and set to painting the thing. The task took more time than I planned as I had to start with the underside and then flip it to complete the job. Getting the liner in was tricky until I remembered I had an industrial stapler which would do the job. So it now stands proudly on the patio full of compost and waiting for me to decide what to plant in it. That is a tomorrow job.

With that done it was time to kit the temporary greenhouse out. In went the compost, pots, seed trays and the stuff we bought from the garden centre a couple of days ago prior to my leper status. I got as far as planting the asparagus in a very large pot before deciding I had had enough for the day. So I change out of my work clothes and retreat to the shed for coffee and the last sugarless biscuits.

Once in my shed I open my next package to find the reconditioned notebook that I ordered had arrived. That is something I shall fire up tonight. It is a real bargain with 1Terabit SSD drive, Window 10, 8meg of RAM and a life time Office Pro 2019 licence, and Core i5 processor all for less than £280. I’m looking forward to fitting it up and seeing what it can do. It is smaller and lighter than my current laptop, which I up graded recently so I shall sync them and use the new one to travel with. I leave you to spot the irony in that.

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So adieu for now as I enter my new stage.