One down, five to go!

That really wasn't so bad. Not pleasant but not god awful either.

First up we saw the wig lady. She was very nice and showed me the catalogue and colour samples, all of which had ludicrous names. My best match is 'Buttered Toast' (?)  Mr P. then got carried away and started offering his own variations: "Butternut Squash!"  (Honestly, you can't take him anywhere ...)

I'm going to pick a couple of styles and she'll bring them to the hospital for me to try on. All of the wigs are subsidised but, depending on which range you choose from, you pay a contribution of up to £75. Obviously I'm hoping that I won't need to wear one but, at that price, it's worth getting one just in case.

Then into treatment. It really was exactly as the nurse had described. The cold cap does look ridiculous and mine was made to look even more daft with little chunks of swabbing inserted for comfort.  They also slick your hair back with conditioner first to protect it because it does get frozen. Fortunately my hair is very thick and insulating but, conversely, I do wonder if that might limit the cap's effect?

Anyway, it was VERY cold. But I'd been warned that the first 10 minutes are the worst [they were] and then you get used to it [I did]. Luckily I had Mr P. to distract me and feed me sandwiches. He also introduced me to the delight of Angry Birds on the iPad. I got quite absorbed and, at one particularly awkward level, found myself exclaiming loudly: "Die you f*cker!" Which probably wasn't the most sensitive thing to shout on a cancer ward ...

Three separate drug combinations later and I was free to go home. I've got lots of anti-sickness steroid tablets to take for two days, and an injection tomorrow, but no more medical appointments for three whole weeks.

So all in all, the day went well. And to celebrate we did a little dance, or the 'chemo conga' as I would like it henceforth to be known ... :-)

Feeling down ... ?  Not me!

Somebody pinch me - this place is too good to be true!

OMG. I LOVE Charing Cross Hospital! Seriously, the place is amazing.

For someone who has spent the last six weeks being treated at Ealing Hospital, Charing Cross is another world.

Firstly, you walk into the main reception and it's bright, modern and inviting. (With no old ladies in dressing gowns smoking fags outside the front door ...)

I then went up to the Oncology outpatients. My appointment was at 11am but I'd been told to get a blood test first so got there at 9.45am, fully expecting a long wait in a depressing, crowded waiting room.

Au contraire! The room was bright and airy and, on taking a ticket for my blood test, realised that there were only two people in front of me. I couldn't believe it - but it got better! Before I'd even had the blood test a nurse appeared and called me to see the Doctor. He was at a 'loose end' and could see me early. EARLY! So even after my blood test, I was out of there before 10.15am ... Outstanding.

However, my next appointment wasn't until midday. No matter, I thought, I'll find where I need to be and then go and buy a cuppa. But, no need! The chemotherapy unit has free tea, coffee, biscuits and WiFi. I even got given a sandwich for my lunch. Superb!

The Chemotherapy nurse was lovely too. She sized me for my cold cap and took me through all the side-effects of the different drugs I'll have, the first and most toxic combination of which is appropriately called FEC-T(!)

Interestingly, the nurse didn't think I needed to get my hair cut too short to start with but, for comfort's sake under the cap, I think I'll still go ahead with a good trim this afternoon.  Even if I don't lose all of it through treatment, I will lose some, so I've also got an appointment to see the hospital's 'wig lady' tomorrow. (That said, I can only assume her usual customers are on the more 'mature' side as the catalogue seems to contain a lot of very tight perms ... )

Anyway, after a quick MRSA swab (nice!) and a precautionary ECG scan, I've been given the green light. The whole process - injections, cap etc. - will take about 3 hours per session but, I can barely believe it, we're FINALLY underway!

Hair today, gone tomorrow ... (sorry!)

Today I’m for the chop. The hair chop. And I’m a bit apprehensive.

I spoke to an old friend about it last week. “You had short hair when I met you,” he said. “Yes,” I replied “but that was in 1994!”

In fact, I worked it out and I’ve not had short hair since 1995. That’s a LONG time ago. A lot of things were different then: Hollyoaks was on the telly, Take That were in the charts, we had a Conservative government ... Oh. Hang on ... ;-)

But before I see the hairdresser there is the small matter of my pre-chemo assessment. So I'm up with the larks and off Charing Cross Hospital for a few tests and other administrative bits and pieces. Then, if everything is as it should be, we're all set to start tomorrow afternoon.

Wish me luck!

Who's that girl?

Today I went to office for the first time in over three weeks.  I know that's not long but I still thought it might be weird.  I really shouldn't have worried ...

Everyone was really lovely and asked how things were going - I even got a few little pressies. (Because I'm always partial to a 'chocolate ginger' and a homemade cookie!)  It was good to clarify a few HR bits too; sick notes, sick pay, etc. as I know I won't be working again for some time.

That being the case, I also did a routine sweep of my portable filing cabinet (or 'poodle' as we like to call them). Ever since a colleague left a piece of cheese in the cupboard for over month, I was a little concerned that I might have left a wizened satsuma wedged in my drawer. Fortunately I hadn't ...

So after a bit of lunch - (which was lovely, thanks guys) - it was back to Ealing Hospital for my 'delinquent tit', as it has been dubbed, to receive its electronic tag.  It was quite a straightforward process, very similar to having a biopsy, and then followed up with a mammogram. (Indeed, thanks to the residual anaesthetic it was the least painful mammogram I've had!)

However, I still came out feeling a bit queasy. But then I remembered ... I had a handbag full of homemade biscuits!  They were delicious. :-)

Whoop! NEWSFLASH!

So, don't want to count my chickens, but I might get treated at the Royal Marsden after all.

Yesterday I called to say 'thanks but no thanks' to my appointment on 29th February and told the woman in appointments how unhappy I was about how my case had been handled.  She apologised and expressed her surprise and said that she would look into things for me to see if it was still worth me coming in.

I then received a call from the Consultant's secretary (the one I had previously dealt with) who, after some to-ing and fro-ing and inital frostiness, I think realised that there had indeed been an administrative cock-up. She was then enormously helpful!

As a result, I've now heard from the Registrar. Ideally, they would like a patient to have all their treatment - i.e. chemotherapy, surgery etc. - at the same hospital but it is possible for me to have my chemo at Charing Cross and then go to Royal Marsden for my operation. So she is re-scheduling my appointment to see the Consultant Surgeon to May after my fourth course of chemo.

Clearly, I'm delighted. And goes to show that being direct and honest about how you feel, does pay off!

There's a good girl ...

So yesterday, I was taken for a walk in the park and next week, I’m being micro-chipped. (I’m not sure I like where this is heading!)

To be fair though, the walk was a good idea – even if I had to be coerced.  It was nice to get a bit of fresh air and have a natter.  And tonight we’re being cooked for again. Honestly, I never knew having cancer could be so sociable!

In all seriousness, I wouldn't want anyone to think that this process has been, or is, easy-going. It really isn't. But if you can't make light of things and take your laughs where you can, you really would go mad.

There are times when I've found it hard. I'll be doing something quite innocuous - like making a cup of tea - and then, in that unguarded, unconscious moment, start to cry. And I know that's fine. Natural. But it's not something that most people will get to see. I'm a hard-faced bitch, remember ... ;-)

So, can I say again how much I really do appreciate all the offers of help that we've received and while we may not have taken you up on them thus far, it doesn't mean that we won't. It means so much just to know that they're there.

The calm before the storm

OK, so I’ve got a few quiet days to get things done. And have I ... ? Have I, heck!?

I blame Mr P; he only went and gave me an iPad for Valentine’s Day. It was the most lovely and thoughtful (and expensive!) of gestures. His thinking is that it will keep me entertained while at treatment appointments and, quote, “make your life easier.”

He’s right. It will. But I also can’t stop playing with the bloody thing!  I think he may yet confiscate it and only let me have it at hospital or as a treat when I’ve actually done the things that I’ve promised to do. Today he’s made me promise to walk to the station and back, just to get me out of the house. I haven’t ... well, not yet!

What I have done though, is start on my ‘Cancer Cupboard’.  Lots of people have been giving me tips on things to buy - (thank you!) - and I also remember a few bits and pieces from when my Dad was ill.  This includes:

• Pecan nuts containing Zinc to boost my immune system, which will take a battering over the next 18 weeks.
• Dried apricots containing Lycopene, which is particularly good at fighting cancer. Tomatoes are another good source, plus various other fruits and vegetables - and chicken!
• Iron tablets to prevent anaemia and Vitamin C to make sure my body can absorb the iron.
• Aloe Vera gel for if my hands and feet get sore.
• Thermometer to keep an eye on my health as I could easily succumb to an infection. If my temperature does rise, I have to go straight to the hospital.
• Manuka honey, which is anti-bacterial and can help prevent mouth sores.
• Crystallised ginger, to stop me feeling sick. (My Dad used to particularly enjoy the dark chocolate gingers from Thorntons. Trouble was, the rest of us liked to eat them too!)
• Anti-sickness wristbands. 

So I haven’t been wholly inactive. Just mostly ... ;-)

But, on a separate note, someone has also sent me details of Macmillan Cancer Support’s Starlight Supper on Saturday 10 March. It’s being promoted through Smooth Radio and they are encouraging people to host a dinner party and make a donation to Macmillan. Sounds like a great idea.