As said previously, changing my chemo-regime to PEXG (a combination of four drugs) has given me some relief from the side-effects that saw me hospitalised twice under the Folfirinox combination. On the down side, there’s no respite to my system, with two pink pills to be taken every morning and evening on a full stomach and with a large glass of water. Then as before, every second Wednesday it’s back to hospital for the big blast. Nausea and fatigue are constants and fluctuate daily, though thankfully not on the scale before, and only once this week have I spent most of the day in bed and ready to chuck in the towel given the combination of other side-effects. After all, why put myself through this when statistically all I’m doing is buying a few years? Years I would have had anyway, even if we hadn’t found this blasted tumour. And years I’ve been told to expect may involve another drug regime should the surgery to remove the cancer also require the removal of other areas of my upper gastro-intestinal tract. But thanks to a very determined Jas and Beth and their ‘bullying’ tactics we got through the low point and after that, and despite a diminshed blood count, elevated liver markers and suck-the-life-out-of-you day-time television, things became more bearable.
So, what is a good day for me? A day when I manage to make the bed, AND put on a wash, AND maybe do a little tidying up. Having so little energy my weight-loss appears to have stabilised and at some thirteen kilos or twenty-eight odd pounds below what it was last year when we made the trip back to the UK, I can’t be unhappy with that.