Made it!

I am pleased to announce to anyone who cares to read this that my daily visits to the KOC radiotherapy department are now over. Only one word for it:

Yippee!!!!

In the true spirit of the NHS there was, of course, a "spoiler" in the form of a short leaflet explaining that the side effects would last for another few weeks. In an effort to reassure those who find this deeply worrying, it gave telephone numbers that I could call if I was worried about anything to do with the treatment, side effects etc. Guess who would be at the other end? You got it: a "Macmillan Radiographer"................fat lot of use that would be. As I think I might have said before, I prefer that people labelled as "expert" know more than me about their subject, or are at least helpful in some way; unfortunately both WMS and G showed themselves to be sadly lacking. I will grant, however, that WMS obviously has some skill as a technician.

By contrast, the last set of radiographers that I saw were excellent. I had met all of them before at various times and they expressed what seemed like genuine pleasure that today was my last session. It could be that they had found me so odious that it was a relief, but if that was the case they hid it well. When I said that I would now get another tattoo to celebrate, they wanted an explanation of the first one and seemed interested in what the next would be. Full marks to them.

I to did pause with the wonderful receptionist to thank her for brightening the mornings. I also enquired about the identity of the manager; I will write to her expressing (some) of my thoughts on the service at KOC.

Before I bid the subject of KOC farewell, an observation on something that people are very quick to complain about, but never seem to notice otherwise. Every morning, the same man was assiduously cleaning the reception area, corridors etc. I expect that he does much more than that, but 08:30 is obviously floor cleaning time. The place was spotless! I have never seen a floor that clean; it puts my kitchen to shame. After 7 weeks of padding back and forth in the same hospital non-slip socks (worn over my own in case you are thinking that they must be a bit rank by now!), there is barely a mark on them. Needless to say, this will be included in the feedback to the service manager.

The very observant of you might have noticed that I am writing this in the morning at a time when I am usually semi-conscious or comatose. I can only ascribe this to adrenalin resulting from the thrill of being free of the place. If only the NHS had done the right thing and prescribed some amphetamines, I could have been feeling like this every morning........a lesson to learn there chaps? (and chapesses of course).

I expect that those of you have been dutifully digesting this blog day after day are feeling relieved that I will now go away and you can break the habit? Sorry to disappoint, there will be more to come. The joy of side effects tailing off (I hope), then the suspense as to whether the last 7 weeks have been effective in getting rid of the cancer. Interestingly, no-one has mentioned timescales although I am, aware that the diagnostic competence for prostate cancer is so poor that the outcome is based on whether my PSA level has gone down at some point, undefined, in the future. Whatever the outcome from that, whenever it may be known, it is certainly the end of treatment from my point of view; nature can take its course from now on, whether for good or ill.

Before I sign off and allow myself to rest, a plea that I have made a few times before. I will give this its own blog post later, but I would be fascinated to get some feedback. Did you arrive here by accident, or on purpose? Are you a survivor? Are you newly diagnosed? Are you just following this because of the evident quality of the writing and modesty of the author? Have you enjoyed it? Most importantly, has it been useful?

I think that there is the facility on this blog to send comments without them being published, so if you are worried about everyone seeing your answer I can guarantee that I will not let it be published if you ask me not to. If you are still worried about being "seen" in public, please feel free to drop me an email at woods.phil0@gmail.com  I promise not to share anything with anyone else if you do not want me to. 

Enough, time for today's song. I have been saving this one from day one and it is by one of my favourite bands. Unfortunately, like most of the music I have shared with you over the months, most of the band are no longer with us. Must be something to do with my age..................

As usual, headphones on, volume up and enjoy!

You must have guessed what this one would be!!!!

Very nearly there

Within touching distance of the end of radiotherapy and thought that I would structure today's entry slightly differently. The first evidence of this is the musical links will appear at what seem suitable junctures.

The first are a pair of links whose publication dates seem upside down to me, but then if you have listened to some of the other tracks I have pointed you towards you are probably aware that my musical taste and knowledge are slightly dubious.

The earlier song: One more time.......

The later song: One more shot

One of those might put you in the mood to read on, but I very much doubt that both will!

I have now travelled some 900 miles back and forth to KOC and been zapped by intensive x-ray beams 36 times. For the first time, I stopped at the display cabinet in the corner of the waiting room which displays selected anatomical specimens from a deceased radiotherapy machine (you wondered where that was going didn't you?). Absolutely fascinating, but it basically demonstrated that the machines are no more than lumps of glass and metal, albeit put together in new and more interesting ways than one might expect. There is a term for this, which was coined by a close friend and colleague: "Morecambisation" (for an explanation, here is a link: Grieg Piano concerto )

As the treatment has progressed over the weeks, the side effect that has had the biggest effect has been fatigue. In the first few weeks, this was just a slight decrease in energy. It progressed to being unable to concentrate for very long without my mind going into a slight "freewheel", which effectively stopped me working. Its ultimate incarnation has been to deliver and insatiable desire to sleep

As if this was not enough, I am also supposed to steer clear of caffeine and strong alcoholic drinks. Those who know me will realise that this is the equivalent of telling a fish to steer clear of water. Needless to say, I took this as "advice" rather than an imperative and moderated input rather than ceased.

You might expect that, feeling tired and desirous of sleep, falling into the arms of Morpheus would not be much of a problem. Indeed, it wasn't until very recently. To explain this, I will have to bore you with a short history lesson.

Some 8 or 9 years ago, I moved from London to the delights of the Kent countryside. London can best be characterised as 24 hours of noise, light, movement and entertainment. For a long time, the last quality outweighed the first 3, but there came a time when the downsides overtook the upsides. Critically, it is impossible to live in London and own a dog if you have any love for the species. It is also a bit of a challenge to own a horse. So , despite Dr Johnson (if you don't know the quote, here is a link: Samuel Johnson ), off to Kent.............

The house is entirely unremarkable, but where it sits is the important bit. No human neighbours!!!! It is at the bottom of a nature reserve which is also a "Site of Special Scientific Interest" in an area which is a designated "Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty". I might take slight issue with the last one, but that is what the Government calls it so you probably get the idea. We do have noisy neighbours though: foxes, badgers, owls and the like. Believe it or not, in the absence of other sounds, owls can seem quite loud!

Either side of the house is an empty plot of land. One is owned by a true Romany gypsy and his family who use it to store things and I will often refer to as the best neighbours I have ever had. 

The other is owned by a woman who lives about 20 miles away; she refers to it as her little bit of unspoilt Kent. At least, it was until recently............ On the land is a small wooden building which is a cross between a summerhouse and a shed. It is evidently pretty old and had fallen into disrepair. The owner recently seems to have employed a couple to renovate it and bring it back up to a usable state. All well and good until recently; no problem putting up with some honest hammering and sawing noises, even if it does seem to be taking longer to renovate than it would take most people to build from scratch. Then the children arrived!

Warm days and hot nights; the sort of weather than demands the opening of windows and invites falling asleep sitting in the garden during the day to work off radiotherapy fatigue. Not with what sounds like 20 small children running up and down screaming their heads off (it is probably only about 5, but you get the idea!). Worse still, they are staying in a tent and do not seem to sleep. Guess who else cannot sleep as a result? It is a strange feeling to be so tired as to not function, but unable to sleep due to one of the very sounds I moved to the country to escape. I am not a fan of other people's children at the best of times................

I now understand why the British army used sleep deprivation as one of their torture techniques in Northern Ireland in the 1970s. It is very effective at taking people to the edge. 

Sorry, a whole load of self-indulgent twaddle today. Just to round it off, a couple of songs which sum up the feeling of sleep deprivation. Or (never start a sentence with a conjunction!) maybe just the result of too many drugs.............either way, both are best listened to through headphones with the volume turned up:

It begins with a blessing

Song from the bottom of a well

A quick postscript: such is the fatigue, it has taken me all day to write this. Sorry if the joins show...............

Only a few more to go

I should really have written this yesterday, but I fell asleep....................

After 33 sessions of radiotherapy, I now only have 4 to go! It actually feels a bit strange that the end is in sight as I have now become used to the daily routine of attending KOC (Kent Oncology Centre, please keep up!), being briefly irradiated and returning home to walk the dogs before the inevitable fatigue cuts in. Unfortunately for them, both their walks and their owner's temper have become progressively shorter as the weeks have passed. I ascribe both of these to the progressive fatigue effect.

What will I miss when it comes to an and next Wednesday?

Fighting my way through the rush hour traffic, dodging the particularly bonkers drivers as best I can? Nope

Sitting in the car park at the hospital when I arrive too early (which is almost every day as I have to allow up to an hour to travel 12 miles)? Nope

The cheery smile and greeting of the receptionist at KOC? Yes

The amazingly fetching hospital pyjama bottoms, sometimes complete with permanent stains and always much, much to large? Nope

The radiographers who ensure that I am in the right place in the machine and irradiate me every morning? Yes. I rarely see the same ones two days in a row, but all have been pleasant and a few have been genuinely good fun to talk to. I will probably eulogise about the top two or three on the blog when all this is over.

The "Macmillan" radiographers? Definitely not!!!

The side effects? Definitely not!! I just hope that they do not last too long after all this finishes.

As you might have gathered, on balance(!) I will be glad when all this has finished. I am trying hard not to count down, but today's song will probably betray me..........

I will post an entry next Wednesday when I am free of KOC. I already have the song for that one lined up................. Then we enter the "has it worked or not ?" phase, so you might not be free of me just yet.

The song. It is a slightly awkward "cut", but I chose this version as it blends the version used for a popular tv programme (if you remember it, you are giving your age away; if you do not, a quick google search will tell you all you need to know!) with a live performance. As the "yoof" say: enjoy......

Uh huh, it was the.....