Life has been hard these past weeks and with no energy or enthusiasm and even less of an appetite the weight has fallen off me. Constantly trying to tempt me with delicious morsels of food Jas describes me as a bag of bones, something that any other time would have thrilled me. But the truth is I've lost a total of some fifteen kilo's (or thirty-three pounds) over the past year. None of it deliberately. Worse, my hair is growing back with chemo curls! I can't believe it! All my life I've had perfectly straight, baby-fine hair. Now, with a mind of it's own, it's as wiry as a spoodle's and that's going to take a lot of getting used to.
Radiation ended up being very debilitating, so that by the end of the twenty-five blasts it had become a real effort, both physically and mentally, to keep on going. In fact if it hadn’t been for the Cancer Society’s volunteer drivers collecting me from the doorstep each day it would have been all too easy to make an excuse not to go at all.
Then, just ten days after celebrating the final blast I was hospitalised with internal bleeding, something I had inadvertently caused by putting too much over-the-counter ibuprofen into an already weakened stomach. Units of blood coupled with something to stop the bleeding and gallons of saline were pumped into me that night and over the next two days. But even then my troubles weren’t over, and just this week saw me hospitalised yet again with chronic pain in the lower half of my gut. This time though I was allowed home after twenty-four hours along with a course of antibiotics and the joy of more investigations to come – and I’ll leave it to your imagination as to exactly where those investigations are to probe! But no matter what the latest scan implies, I do not have cancer anywhere other than my pancreas. On this I am certain. Or to put it another way, I have stomped my foot and that's thats. So there!