After spending a lot of time around the house healing from my liver operation, I finally resumed chemo for the last two cycles. I really couldn’t stand being back on the drugs – same horrid steroids to counter the horrid Oxaliplatin, but still being lreft with constant horrid nausea. Problem now being my body knew what was coming, so I was getting nauseous before I’d even had the drugs, psychosomatic effects I suppose.
So I decided to shell up, just get through each day, which was probably not the most uplifting thing I could have done for myself, but I guess I was thinking now about that light at the end of it all. And so here I am, two of the longest cycles over, still tired with LOTS of Cetuximab rash all over my head, scalp and body, just waiting for it all to die away and feel like a real boy again.
But I do remember the day, last Thursday, when my Oncologist confirmed that all the cycles were over, there were no more drugs to take, and the next step was an initial scan to confirm that everything has worked. I knew this was the next step, but hadn’t realised how shut off I’d been getting there, so it was good to find myself smiling all day, and maybe even a few tears of happiness too.
It’s coming up to a year since my diagnosis, and I think by the time the side effects have mostly worn off it will be a full year. It has not been a year defined by cancer – I wanted to make sure of that and be lucky to have enough support to carry it through – but I am already looking back over it thinking “wow, how did I get through all that without freaking out”. I guess the answer has always been “one day at a time”, but without the love and support I’ve felt from friends, family, and the many wonderful people on this forum, I suspect each of those days would not have been half as bright.