One more to go

Two years on, and the end is in sight...............at last!

This will be a very short entry..................I can be merciful!

Before I explain that one, just a note of thanks to the readers of this blog. A few of you have stuck with it through thick, thin and downright boring; some have dipped in never to be seen again; some have picked a topic  and followed it and others have probably followed for a while before getting fed up. Whatever your reasons dear readers, thank you. People have come from the UK, France, Germany, Poland, Spain, Turkey India, Russia, the USA, Canada and more countries I cannot recall. Yesterday, the total page views went over 3,000. I have no idea what constitutes "success" in garnering page views, but over 3,000 seems a lot to me! 

A little over a week ago, I had what I hope will be the final blood letting (it was at Medway Hospital, but fortunately they have given up using leeches in favour of needles these days). With good luck and a following wind, the result should be here in a few days and will represent the conclusion of the story. As and when it arrives, I shall bore you all one last time.

Until then, a song..........enjoy

SOB

Have a funny feeling I might have posted that one before. Just in case, here's another:

Don;t Look Back

Still going............

It has been a very long time since my last post on here. I see that a few people are still finding their way to the blog, but probably mostly by accident! On the off-chance that one or two of my loyal readers happens to take a look, I thought that I would post the latest update in the long and weary saga.

On a global level, I see that the press regularly print that 11,000 men die in the UK every year from prostate cancer, but still there seems to be complete indifference to early detection and treatment. Can you imagine the outcry if breast or bowel cancer were treated in the same way? It remains a complete mystery to me as to why this country has such a laissez faire attitude to something which is curable and yet still kills enough people to fill the Albert Hall twice over every year. I suspect it is because PC is usually associated with older people and we live in an inherently ageist country............one for the Grauniad opinion columns perhaps?

On a personal level, I had the latest blood test a few weeks ago. Those of you who are sufficiently briefed (forgive the pun, this time it was unintentional!), either from the real world or the curious nano world of this blog, may be aware that "normal" is a reading of 4.0 ng/mL or below. Mine started at 13.4 and reduced to 8.3 by January. 

A note about units here, just to demonstrate how incredibly sensitive modern blood testing is. Please feel free to skip this bit as it could be seen either as geek intensive or patronising depending on your level of knowledge. A nano gram is a billionth of a gram, so we are actually talking about measuring 0.000000004 of a gram in one millilitre. For any American readers who might not get the peculiar European system of measurement, a gram is about 3.5 hundredths of an ounce and a millilitre is about 2 thousandths of a pint. Sorry, I did warn you before you read it!

There are two types of letter that I hate receiving: those from Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs and those marked "Private and Confidential" with a Maidstone postmark. Checked the post this afternoon (I do not live in a town, so the post arrives at lunchtime) and, guess what? Yep, I hit the jackpot and had one of each. Given that one is seriously scary and the other is just one of those things that has to be dealt with, I opted to open the scary one first............

It turned out to be nothing more than a letter advising me that I have 9 months to complete my tax return. Phew!

That left the other one. It was, as expected, from the Oncologist with the result of the latest blood test. I am please to say that the level is now down to 5.3.............very nearly there! With luck, the little blighter is on its last legs.............. Next blood test is due in July; hopefully that will be within a "normal" range and I can forget all about hospitals until something else goes wrong.

Not sure whether getting the celebratory tattoo done might be tempting fate though; will think about that one.  Any thoughts on a design which represents renewal or rebirth apart from the phoenix would be welcomed.

In order not to break with tradition, a song or three. These are all by the same band, but can you tell whether these were real 1930s songs updated in the 1960s, or whether they were just the products of alcohol and drug addled madmen who wrote and performed them? They might even be a combination of the two.


By a waterfall

Hunting Tigers

Tubas in the moonlight

Until next time folks..............

News from the hospital!

It has been a while, but I did promise not to post just for the sake of posting. After goodness knows how long, there is finally something new to talk about. If you have read virtually any of my other posts, you will realise that the word "hospital" and the phrase "good news" very rarely (if ever?) appear in close proximity.............The words "hospital" and the phrase "waste of space" (or similar) are seen together quite a lot. I won't spoil the end of the post by telling you which was round the might appear at the end; no point in writing a suspense story and giving the ending away, it would not be fair on you dear reader.

The last blood test in October was a bit of a washout. I had hoped that it might show a drop in the PSA level, but in fact it showed a slight increase. Not really what I wanted to hear, and it did seem to surprise the consultant who had also expected it to have gone down some 2 months post radiotherapy. But, hey ho, what can you do? I could hardly take the what remained of the offending gland out and give it a good talking to, so I just had to put that one down as another experience on the journey and wait three months for another blood test.

I had intended to play it cool and wait until at least the middle of January before having another stab (literally). Christmas came and went (I had 'flu so missed that one), a new year was ushered in very well thanks to the Jools Holland Hootenany and still I thought "leave it until later in the month".

As it turned out, my coolness lasted all of 4 days and on the 5th I duly toddled on down to the blood letting department of Medway Hospital, form in hand. 

You may have read about Medway Hospital in this blog before. It is a sort of war zone, usually just visible through a miasma of cigarette smoke generated by the people who go there. Hospitals in the UK might be "non smoking areas", but the risks associated with asking the locals not to smoke in the grounds probably far outweigh the chances of success, so the staff tend to leave well alone.

I had expected to be there for at least half an hour after taking my ticket from the machine by the door, sitting in rather too close contact with a load of other people. Wrong! There was literally no-one waiting! 5 minutes later, I was out of there and heading back to the car minus a few millilitres of blood. By Medway standards, this was nothing short of miraculous; it actually took me longer to walk back to the car than I spent in the blood letting department.

The other day, the letter from the consultant arrived. Anyone who has been in a similar position will appreciate that opening one of these is done with a mixture of excitement and trepidation

The envelope contained two pieces of paper: a letter and another blood test form.............

The letter informed me that my PSA level had fallen by nearly half and that the consultant viewed this as satisfactory progress. Hooray, all that back and forth to KOC has finally yielded a positive result! If it falls by another half over the next few months, I will be within the "normal" zone..............phew! It also asked that I have another blood test in April, so hopefully that will be the end of the story. It has been a long and tortuous journey to get this far, but nearly there.

A song to end with. I don't think that I have posted this one before, apologies if it is a repeat. It will mean nothing to anyone under a certain age and will probably mystify anyone from outside the UK. It is very short, so those who don't like it will not suffer for long.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2skW43HNpE

3 Months on

Firstly, an apology: I have been neglecting the blog. Probably because nothing much has happened and I am sure that you don't want me to prattle on about irrelevant stuff...............mind you, not many people have been looking at it recently, so perhaps I am just talking to myself (no change there then!).

3 months have now passed since I finished being zapped. Did it work? Am I free of the cancer? The short answer is that I have absolutely no idea! 6 weeks ago, blood was taken to establish whether my PSA level had gone down. 4 weeks after the blood test I received a letter from the consultant saying that the level had not gone down. Ho hum. He did, however, enclose another form for a blood test with the suggestion that I have another go in January.

I would imagine that for most people this might come as a bit of a disappointment, but I have to say that I am not at all surprised. As usual, I had done some research before seeing the consultant and discovered that PSA levels do not usually go down for several months after radiotherapy and may even go up in the short term. The result therefore came as absolutely no surprise. Indeed, it made me think that the NHS was wasting time (theirs and mine) again.

By now, you are probably used to me griping about the inefficiency of the British National Religion that is the NHS, so I will pass no further comment other than that  it might reduce the number of useless appointments if they pointed people to internet references.

Not a lot more to say really. Still a bit tired every now and again, which I take to be a side effect, but otherwise nothing much seems to have changed (thank goodness!).

In the almost complete absence of any feedback and the falling "hits" I am not sure whether it is worth continuing with this blog. If anyone shows interest I am happy to continue, but otherwise I will probably only update it a few times more and then let it slide gracefully into internet oblivion......... if you have strong views either way, please do leave a comment or get in touch.

Today's song is not a song, it is an entire album! It is the first album I ever bought (so you can guess my age pretty easily from this one) and I was reminded of it the other day. Like the other links, best listened to through headphones to catch the effect. Have fun with it!

Electric Warrior

Waiting again

Before I start, a big welcome and thank you to whoever is reading this in Russia. I am constantly amazed at the range of countries that people reading this blog, whether just a mistaken page search or a more in-depth following. At the risk of boring everyone, the countries so far (in order of number of "hits") are:

UK
USA
France
Australia
Russia
Ireland
Turkey
Switzerland
Ukraine
Germany

I have a good idea who the Australians and people from Turkey are, but everyone else is a mystery........and you all seem to be so shy! I have only had a couple of comments and an email since I started over a year ago. Go on, take the plunge and risk getting in touch. I can guarantee that I will not bite.

If you read the last post, you might recall that the vampire service at Medway Hospital relieved me of another few millilitres of blood to find out how my PSA level was getting on. Still no result back, or at least no result that anyone has bothered to tell me about. Even when I do find out thee result, I do not expect it to be a dramatic change as it can take 5 months or so post treatment to find out whether it was successful through the relatively crude method of PSA level. Unfortunately, it can also be 5 or 6 months before any lasting side effects come to the fore.........

So here I am, 2 months after the radiotherapy course finished, still not knowing whether I am "cured" or whether I will have any lifelong effects. This will sound a bit strange, but I am still not sure whether that is stressful or not. I can hear you asking yourself how can someone not know whether they are stressed by the waiting and not knowing? the answer is not quite as simple as it sounds since it relies on what I might call a compartmentalised mind. 

One part of my mind is very focussed on the next challenge; this has effectively come to an end, so no stress there.

The other part would worry about the future if I let it...............stress

Answer? I keep one of the parts in front and concentrate what is left on the "real world". A fun balancing act, but it seems to work.

On a really positive note, I found a pen that I lost ages ago. It sounds like a trivial thing, but it is a fantastic pen and was given to me years ago by a team of people I worked with; it means a lot to me and I was very upset when I lost it

I will be back as soon as I hear anything from the hospital. In the meantime, a couple of songs, one of which is quintessentially English and brought a new word to the language (check out "Jobsworth" in wikipedia). When you listen to the second song, it will not surprise you to hear that he was thrown out of South Africa in the 1960s.............

Jobsworth

Republic Day

6 weeks on: back to Medway :(

I have been trying to think of an appropriate analogy for changing the venue for NHS treatment from KOC to Medway Maritime Hospital. Imagine, if you will, getting used to driving a Bristol Blenheim 3 (Never more than 3 per week) and then being told that you had to swap it for a Ford Focus. Have a good picture in your mind? Good, now forget it.

Imagine instead starting with a second hand Ford Focus which has a few bits missing and then having to swap it for a Trabant (WTF is a Trabant?). Much better! This afternoon I went back to the Oncologist's clinic held at Medway Hospital. To be fair, the cancer unit is much better than the rest of the hospital, but, as you will read if you can bear sticking with this drivel, I also had to visit part of the main hospital.

I had purposely not looked in the internet to see how long it takes to divine whether radiotherapy has worked until last night, but had a good idea that it was not yet from the fact that I had not been invited for any further tests etc. Attendance was therefore from a mixture of curiosity and to have the opportunity to ask about when I might be told how effective the treatment had been.

Arrived a bit early and sat in the waiting area which has sprouted a new electronic screen to tell you how late each clinic is running. Mine was the best performer with only a 15 minute wait posted; by NHS standards a minor miracle. The waiting room was otherwise exactly as it had been last time I visited (brightly coloured vinyl  "comfy" chairs, staff milling about on very important missions etc) except the artwork that had formerly adorned one wall had been removed. Why comment on this? Because in its place was a typically Kent (and Medway) notice which read "Working Progress". I can picture the scene: junior manager says to someone that they need a notice telling people that work is in progress and it gets translated into the local dialect................

The screen did not tell the truth! 2 minutes after the appointed time, up pops the friendly oncologist who summons me to his office.

The usual questions: how are you? any effects from the treatment? etc etc. Gave the usual response: none, except fatigue. As you might have gathered from previous posts, it is a common side effect, no-one is really sure why it happens and there is nothing the NHS can do about it (run this clip on to 16:08: Doc Morrissey). The only options seem to be a) ignore it, or b) break the law and obtain some "speed"...................

The crucial question: when will I find out whether the treatment has been successful?. A truly Dephic response to this one. The only gauge of success is another PSA (blood) test which, by his own admission, is a slightly crude measure. It might go down to normal in a few months, or 5-6 months; it would seem that the only way of judging success, or at least ruling out lack of success, is regular measurement of PSA levels. We agreed that I had might as well have a test now and he would write to me to let me know the result. Presumably I will then be invited to have PSA tests at regular intervals from then on until it looks like something has happened, or not.

Off to the blood letting department. For those unfamiliar with Medway Hospital (and I hope for you sake that most of you are!), this entails walking across the site which brings a whole load of risks in itself. The health paranoics will probably be horrified by the clouds of cigarette smoke which wreathe the site (The NHS is only non smoking up to a point; who would challenge a stressed out Medway resident with a cigarette in his/her mouth?). My fear is the footpaths that just end, thus forcing you to cross the roadway that runs through the hospital several times.

The blood letting department is truly the Trabant of the NHS: Undecorated for decades, scuffed vinyl flooring, old chairs etc etc etc. Only 3 people in front of me and, by the sound of it, a blood letting room full of phlebotomists; one's obvious thought is that this is going to be quick, bearing in mind that it probably takes less than 2 minutes to extract a phial of blood. Wrong! I had to wait 15 minutes; no idea why, perhaps that is just the standard time that one has to wait......

As tradition demands, a song. I think that I have probably posted something by this band before, but this seems (sort of) appropriate. The clip does not really do them justice from my recollections of their gigs in the '70s, but it gives you a flavour. Glasgow's finest!
The Faith Healer  If you enjoy it, I would recommend letting Youtube do its thing and watching a few more of their live performances

Until next time................

Four weeks on

It is now just over 4 weeks since the radiotherapy finished and I was liberated from the daily trek to KOC. I have no idea whether the treatment has been effective and will not until I have seen the consultant again at the beginning of next month; between now and then is a sort of limbo period on the cancer front. Even then, no-one has given me a timescale as to when the next blood test is due to take place so I have no idea whether the consultant appointment will mark an end of the journey. No point in dwelling on that one, there are things to do and life to be lived.

Writing that last phrase reminded me of an entertaining news story that has been unfolding in the UK over the last few days, so please excuse me while I digress for a bit.............

The UK parliament is set to debate a bill on assisted dying in the near future which has provoked two responses of note: one from a group of religious leaders, the other from the hospice movement. They are remarkable for different reasons, but both worthy of a mention.

The Religious, predictably, came out against the whole idea of assisted death with a well rehearsed argument about people potentially being coerced into suicide, and most emphatically did not approve of the idea of professionals helping those who were no longer capable of killing themselves. I realise that this was well meant and comes from a philosophical view about the sanctity of life, but they really had not thought this one through. Their attempt to ensure that life is prolonged for as along as possible (the "only God may decide" argument) may, paradoxically, lead to shortening of the lives of people who are diagnosed with a terminal illness. My simple argument runs as follows:

• Being diagnosed with a potentially terminal illness is a pretty serious turning point in anyone's life which forces them to consider what they might wish for in the worst case.
• People's responses to this will differ. For some, length of life will be pre-eminent in their considerations; for others, quality of life will be the prime determinant.
• For the latter group, many will ensure that they have the means to choose the timing and nature of their demise.
• If assistance is illegal, people will have no choice but to end their own life whilst they are still physically able i.e. their lives will be shorter than they could have been.

The temptation is to conclude that the people who signed the open letter are uncaring and unfeeling *******s, but I suspect that they just have not thought it through properly.

The second response was, frankly, hilarious. The hospice movement (if they don't have on in your country, I would recommend Wikipedia), came out as being against assisted dying because it would harm their business!!!! If anyone ever needed evidence that good intentions can turn into self preserving institutions which have completely lost touch, this is it.

Enough of that, back to the blog proper.

Life here is returning to normal following the 7 week interruption and I am getting back into the "swing" of things. My energy levels are still not what they were, but at least I can stay awake long enough to get back to working. I am extremely fortunate to be working with people who are both colleagues and friends and have been incredibly supportive; I am painfully aware that they have had to work harder whilst I was effectively out of circulation.

With luck, the fatigue will continue to reduce (note to grammar pedants: is this a double negative?), as will the physical effects. If anyone reading this is facing similar treatment and is curious about the latter, please feel free to contact me by email etc. I promise you that it is nothing scary, but it did not seem appropriate to share here.

Will update randomly, but next definite "scheduled" post will be after seeing the consultant at the beginning of next month.

A bit stuck for a song this evening, so falling back on a tried and trusted favourite band.......

Country boy