It is finally Friday. In the words of Marks & Spencer, this is not just any old Friday, this is the final Friday I’ll be doing radiotherapy. In fact, I can also mark off the final Wednesday and the final Thursday, so just one Monday and one Tuesday to go now. It’s starting to feel achievable – just two more sessions. Although even with those remaining, today felt like the beginning of the end, as one of the radiographers said she is off work next week so this would be the last time I see her. You would think that would be music to my ears, but it was a surprisingly emotional moment. I am, of course, beyond excited at the prospect of finishing this hellish treatment, but at the same time I am in a routine where I see the radiographers every single day, and they have really looked after me (even though I dare say behind my back they are cursing my music choices!). It is amazing how quickly you can get used to a structure and seeing people, so from Wednesday, when I shall be blissfully lying in bed, extremely happy about not having to rush out of bed or be anywhere at a particular time, I will probably also feel a bit ‘lost’, if that is the right word.
I made a little calendar at the start of treatment and I have been marking a big black X through each day. Here’s how it now looks. It feels so surreal to be so close to the end. If only I could have a glass of champagne on Tuesday to celebrate!
I opted for another mellow song today – ‘Chasing Cars’ by Snow Patrol. I mostly chose it because it mentions lying down quite a lot, which I seem to be doing an awful lot of at the moment.
Quite incredibly, I am still managing to eat solid food. More soggy cereal for breakfast, a little bit of pea and asparagus risotto for lunch (my stomach would have been doing somersaults to be given a vegetable for the first time in weeks) and scrambled egg on heavily buttered toast for dinner. Plus puddings of course, to keep my calories up. I won’t pretend it is easy, and I can only eat straight after I’ve syringed 5ml of liquid morphine into my mouth along with 2 paracetamol, but I’m amazed I am still eating (as is my oncologist, who I also saw today).
My taste is almost completely gone now, so bland foods are best as they don’t have much taste in the first place. Saliva is continuing to evaporate too and my throat gets very dry, very quickly, but I still have a little to work with and I’m trying to drink two litres of water every day which is meant to help. My neck is still okay, no external burns, just the comedy hair loss at the nape of my neck. And my jaw is now getting harder to open fully, so I need to keep doing my jaw exercises because there is a risk of developing trismus or 'lockjaw' - basically where the jaw doesn't open properly. This is a side effect of treatment, so it's critical that I try to manage this now.
Tiredness is really the main challenge at the moment. I get up early to walk the dog and go to my appointments, but I always fall asleep in the car on the way home (woke myself up today with a big snort – oops, sorry erratic driver) and then when I walk in the door I am like a zombie, so I have a lie down. I drag myself upright for lunch and meds, then back to the sofa for the rest of the afternoon. When I am not actually asleep, I am thinking about being asleep. It is all-consuming! Strangely, it isn’t a whole-body tiredness like you get with the flu – my limbs don’t feel heavy at all, but rather a mental tiredness where my eyelids feel as though they have weights sewn on and my brain is unable to focus on anything. So I apologise if you have sent me a message lately and have had no response. I am finding it challenging to think clearly, even for a simple message reply, but I will get back to you soon.
And now, it's back to the sofa for my evening shift before retiring to bed for what I hope is a very long sleep. Having struggled with weekends for the past five weeks, the fatigue means this one is now very welcome and, for once, I shall be looking forward to Monday morning (and Tuesday) to put those final crosses in the boxes.
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