Cancer and Leg Ulcers to End of 2024

8 September 2024. The leg is a bit horrible, the antibiotics have started it healing but the skin is very tight and painful around it and the actual wound is very sore especially if my trouser leg catches it. Ah the joys of getting older...

12 September 2024. A bit of a day yesterday... My antibiotics ran out and the leg wasn't getting any better so back again to the docs. He said "Did the District Nurses come?" which was the first I had heard that they were meant to... Anyway he gave me more antibiotics and said he would chase the District Nurses up. I collected my pills from the pharmacy and went home.

At lunchtime I got a call from the doctor again to say he had done more research and wanted to change the pills - more were waiting for me at the pharmacy.

More or less immediately the phone rang again. It was the District Nursing team saying they couldn't get me an appointment until the 20th, could I go to the walk in centre at Blackpool. The walk-in centre there has hardly any parking and is surrounded by streets with resident permit parking only. So I opted to go to Fleetwood.

At Fleetwood I had to do a computerised self-assessment full of questions like "Are you bleeding?" "Have you self-harmed?" "Is there anything sticking in you?" Nothing about sepsis or infection so I sat prepared for a long wait as my answers (nearly all "No") made it sound a bit wimpish.

Anyway I was seen after about 45-60 minutes by a nurse who said "Oh it really needs a District Nurse, they know far more about wounds like this. I know you've been sent here because they can't fit you in..." My leg has a dent in the back of it the size of a penny and the colour of dried blood. Probably because it may well be dried blood... very painful.

Kind and sympathetic, if a little unsure what to do, nurse put a cushioned pad over it and put a square plaster over that which by the time I got home had fallen off. I picked up my new pills and threw away the old pills as I had already taken one that morning and in any case the pharmacy would not take back anything which had been dispensed and already taken out of the pharmacy.

I am now limping about the house and anticipating my mother telling me about the five-year history of her legs which still have yet to sort themselves out... All this excitement in my life...

10 October 2024. I have another MRI at Christies hospital on 29 October followed by a telephone appt. on 14 November. Other than that, no news is good news.

As regards my leg, I am now being seen by the District Nurses although I have to visit them as opposed to home visits as I live outside the area covered by my surgery practice. Yesterday was my third visit and included a Doppler test. Most people will be familiar with the cuff used for a blood pressure test. In my case it was placed over my calf on the good leg and tightened until agony. Then some gel and a microphone was touched to my skin to check the difference between the speed of blood flow under pressure and after deflation of the cuff.

I managed to gasp "I'm glad you didn't do that on the bad leg!" but unfortunately that was exactly what had to happen next, the cuff going over the dressing on the open wound and - well that was agony that took me all my will power not to scream!

My pulse is apparently too fast, though I've been told that before and given the Bertie Bassett's box of pills I take every day, something surely has to be out of range? Whatever. The next step is apparently a Doppler test on my toes???

Meanwhile the dressing that I now sport has turned my bad leg to the size of a tree trunk and I am told to elevate the leg as much as possible, which given a wound right on the back of the calf and resting my leg on either side pulls or pushes at it is not without some sense of excitement! But then who needs more than 2.5-3 hours sleep a night anyway? I'm sort of hoping that Oxford Bags come back into trouser fashion sometime soon...

29 October 2024. Another MRI scan at Christies. With an ulcer on the leg let's just say it was a touch more interesting than normal. "Do you need something under it to support it?" asked nursey.
"No!!!!" I said urgently as she moved in with a bean bag. "Not under it, that would be agony, can you put it under my heel?" Which was ok for 20 minutes but then the beans moved under my foot leaving the other 25 minutes to be a face-scrunching breath-holding adventure. The trip back to the waiting room was only accomplished with nurses on either side, holding me up...

The leg since last Thursday has now been under compression as the algorithm from the doppler test showed I was suitable for compressing. So that also hurts like hell no matter what I do (including doing nothing). Today I have had a shingles vaccine jab now being ancient enough for that. Tablet and inhaler puff count now at 25 daily.

If anyone asks, I'm fine. If I grit my teeth when saying it, it's because I'm trying to get that bit of caviar from between two of them, ok? Thank Heavens for the gorgeous summer weather eh? Imagine if it was getting colder and towards winter... oh wait...

15 November 2024. A feedback phone call from Christies about the recent MRI suggests that the cancer is still stable and they are going to let me have future scans done at Blackpool on a 3-monthly basis. All good for that.

I went to the District Nurses again for the leg ulcer this morning - the first one since the compressions went on a week ago yesterday. A lot of goo and the nurse thought it bigger though she hadn't seen it for a few weeks. Fran sneaked a look and thought it was smaller than last week - I'll hope she's right...! Compression back on now and horrible again after all the mauling about (even though the nurse was as gentle as she could be). Happy days!

6 December 2024. A fabulous Christmas Party this afternoon as guests of the local branch of British Gas Pensioners courtesy of David and Jeannie. It was a lovely meal at the Sheraton Hotel in Blackpool- I just hope it wasn't too unacceptable to start dozing through the entertainment after the meal! I'm struggling with sleep patterns at the moment, tending to be awake all night and very sleepy during the day.

13 December 2024. I keep being told to carry on doing these medical updates and certainly viewing numbers on the blog have shot up quite a bit since I started but if you're getting fed up just scroll past!

I've put the liver cancer to the back of my mind for now. My next MRI will be in Feb/March next year. I'm not having any pains from it now. The pain department has definitely been taken over by the leg ulcer which has been far more painful than anything I have ever suffered before. Currently though it seems to be starting to shrink slightly - the "crater" is not as deep and the overall size of the wound is shrinking, but at the cost of some fairly rough handling to try to remove all the dead skin / flesh / whatever - they call it "slough".

This week was horrendous at the District Nurses and I was in agony afterwards. Next week I am to look forward to having abrasive wipes applied... "take some paracetamol before you come in"...

Swelling from the lymphedema in the legs is also bad, it doesn't need much pressure to cause a dent to appear which takes a while to disappear. Also the other week I was sent one of those poo test things. It came back positive and they wanted to do another colonoscopy. With the state of my leg I could never get to the loo in time to deal with the somewhat explosive laxative preparation so I've put that on hold for now. I have had two telephone appointments to explain and they are leaving it for now. I seem to be getting NHS post through several times a week just at the moment!

25 December 2024. We gather at our daughter's for Christmas. Which is fast looming up on us again. I'm now 3 and a quarter years on from the first TACE procedure. A look at survival rates is sobering but I'm still here. And intend to be here for as long as possible. For now though, I'll take a Merry Yuletide break away from the blog until 2026. Somewhere at the beginning of January the next blog post will be to bore you with the annual look at my artwork done during the previous year (2025).

There were quite a few new sketches, colours, new media - something like 24 images for you to look at. That's what being unable to get out much does for you! See you in 2026.

Family Memories: Personal Index

Cancer: Post Radiotherapy and Side Effects

30 April 2024. Two weeks ago today was my last radiotherapy treatment. Today I got a letter from Christies inviting me to go for a talk with my consultant on 30 May. First I have to go to the phlebotomy department. I think this is to give blood samples for testing rather than to have my bumps felt - though you never know your luck... (No, you pillock! That's phrenology!)

14 May 2024. I have spent most of the past 2 weeks coughing so much my ribs ache and each time it takes a minute or two for my stomach muscles to unclench. If I don't come out of this with a restored six pack I'm going to be very disappointed... Also the 20 or so pills I take daily do not mix with the cough so well and I've developed a new skill in upchucking them out again. Am now managing to stay awake through almost 9 to 10 hours a day which leaves up to 14 hours where needing the bathroom is inconvenient. Managed to watch all the way up to the end of the UK Eurovision entry last weekend in what should surely be renamed next year to the Eurovision S\&M Homo-eroticism Contest... Dire... just dire.

30 May 2024. Today was another trip to Christies to give blood samples and see my oncologist. Reassuring to know that with all the grotty side effects, including the passing of poo in Smartie-sized pips until the final bit has to be ejected with such strained force that it can leave you bleeding (sorry folks but this series of articles is meant to help fellow sufferers at the start of their journey understand what they might have to deal with), she seemed to think they were all in keeping with what I've had done.

I had been warned that the cancer would take moisture out of the gut but that phrase doesn't seem to go as far as the possible symptoms somehow... An MRI won't be taken until sometime in July - it apparently has to be 3 months after the radiotherapy has finished.

3 June 2024. Diabetic review today after having donated yet more red corpuscles the other week. Sugar has leapt upwards but thankfully it is due to both the recent radiotherapy and associated stress so should come down again. However for the moment it has increased my daily pill intake again...

13 July 2024. After two years of Covid lockdowns and a year of feeling a whole range of grot from just feeling off, to feeling exhausted and unwell and then having cameras shoved in everywhere, then CT and MRI scans, it was two years ago today that I learned I had cancer on the liver. Since then I've been passed from Blackpool Victoria Hospital to Leeds St James then Christies hospitals, two procedures, one that worked and one that didn't, an intense course of radiotherapy that I'm still recovering from the after effects of.

I'm hoping that the next MRI a week on Tuesday will tell me that the radiotherapy worked. Throughout, the support of people that I have known from all sorts of periods and places has been amazing and I thank you all. Special mention has to go to school chum Janet Astley and hubby Graham for giving up time and more, ferrying me to and from Leeds and Manchester, my bestie David Lancaster and Miss Jeannie for their incessant support and love through times during which he and I have both been going through "stuff".

Lastly of course my own family, especially the wonderful Miss Franny who has watched over, encouraged and cared for me throughout and Gillian Statham our daughter and son-in-law Edward for all their support and help with running about and doing stuff when I've not been able to. And I mustn't forget our wonderful granddaughter Grace, who cheers me up and fills me with love and who comes to rub my arm or back if ever I show any sign of a cough or discomfort. Two years is enough - Christies: I want that next MRI to show nothing but what should be there!

22 July 2024. Just got back from another fabulous weekend with Talking Pictures TV at their Monmouth Festival of Film. Many thanks to Noel and Sarah Cronin for putting on such wonderful weekends, to Caroline Munro, Jayne Crimin and Madeline Smith for being as lovely as they always are and to comedian, Mel Byron, for naming me from the stage leaving everybody wondering who the heck I was.

Some other great guests including Tony Christie, Maureen Lipman, the indefatigable Jimmy Cricket who had the audience in stitches throughout his spot and no TPTV weekend would be complete without the glamourous Lola Lamour. There were many more of course including The Footage Detectives with Noel and Mike Read and some great film snippets and features.

23 July 2024. Just back at 8.54pm from Christies hospital where I had bloods taken and then MRI scan. Bloods were taken at around 2.30pm so a long afternoon. In the waiting room for the MRI I was sitting next to a guy who had been diagnosed with cancer across his shoulders. He was asking me about my experiences as he was only recently diagnosed. Although I was honest, I was making light of my own experiences, yet he was staring at me like I was some sort of hero and saying "Oh my God!" at almost everything I said. I'm no blooming hero, but what can you say when you are asked "Were you put under when you had your operation?"

I had to say, "No, because I had to hold my breath at certain points, so it was just a local anaesthetic..."
"Oh my God! So you were awake all through it? How long did it take?"
"About three quarters of an hour..."
"Oh my God!!!"

8 August 2024. Got the results of my first scan after the radiotherapy today. The cancer hasn't grown and hasn't shrunk or disappeared. "It's what we would hope to see, we wouldn't have expected it to have shrunk yet, it takes longer than that after radiotherapy." Well, if they had told me that in April it would have saved me from what feels like a disappointment today then wouldn't it...? Ah well - another MRI in 3 months. Same old.

What follows next is our cruise with Tomas and Maris on the Norwegian Pearl in the Adriatic Sea. This has already featured on the blog but I'll just repeat this little snippet from the entry on 1 September 2024 in which I am describing a day in Rijeka on 21 August 2024.

A couple of weeks ago I took a step short coming downstairs at home and scraped the back of my leg on the step, leaving a carpet burn that blistered. I'd been putting antiseptic cream on but Miss Franny had only packed the small tube we were halfway through so needed to buy some more. I know it sounds trivial but at age 70 and with diabetes, these things do not heal quickly and can be very painful."

In fact the damage to the liver had given me a developing leg ulcer. Any pain I might have had from the cancer would shrink in my mind due to what I would suffer from this and more similar spread of wounds on both legs. I went through the cancer on just paracetamol. With the ulcers I progressed to nerve pain killers and codeine then morphine and still had such pain that I could have wept. (At times I did!)

Currently on 8 December 2025 my legs are still bandaged though the wounds are disappearing. 15 months of suffering, 2 months spent in hospital May to the beginning of July this year, unable to stand and having to watch a pool of blood forming on the floor around my feet when I tried... It has been a long struggle that still continues.

Family Memories: Personal Index

Cancer: The Rest of the Radiotherapy

29 March 2024. The second dose of radiotherapy today. Graham got us there in record time - no school traffic with it being Easter, little work traffic but we weren't sure how many would be heading to Manchester Airport. Hold-ups coming back on end of M61 and M6 up to M55 though - I guess Windermere would be a touch crowded today.

The session begins - as all the sessions will begin - with an MRI scan. This tells the medical team whether the tumour is still in the same place and roughly its size. The burning sensation I had on day one turned out to be something I can expect more of as the treatment goes on.

I've been working on an oil pastel of a street scene in Bristol from an old postcard view. There will be no progress on the painting today - once I get home I'm yawning so much I'm in danger of swallowing my computer screen...

2 April 2024. Today was radiotherapy day 3 of 8. Thanks Graham Astley once again for doing the driving to and from Christies. Managed to stay awake for the trip home but zonked for the afternoon. A day off tomorrow before going back for the 4th dose on Thursday. The waiting room for the radiotherapy is huge and always full. I'm not sure just how many machines there are (each in their own large room) but it's a lot. I am usually in Radiotherapy Room 4. There are at least 12 machines.

Once you have had your MRI you wait around another 20 minutes before going into the Radiotherapy room. Meanwhile some people will be going home (or back to their ward if they are staying in hospital) and new patients will be arriving. Some sit in the waiting room on their own and some seem to bring their entire families. Some sit there making conversation with whoever they have brought with them. Some sit quite still, looking worried. Some sit or walk about terrified, some in tears, some saying how they can't go on with this or that they don't want to go on with their treatment.

I always felt a huge sorrow for these people. My own experiences told me that it really wasn't that bad. Sometimes I had pain but it was usually just pain that could come at any time not because of the machines. Yes, there is some discomfort during your 20 minutes inside an MRI tube, mainly from your inability to move, to rub an itch, to wipe your nose or eyes, or discomfort from the pauses in breathing, or the placement of aparatus across your abdomen. Even the sheer noise.

Once in the Radiotherapy Room my greatest problem was the cold temperature of the room and sometimes the sudden movement of quite large parts of the machine rotating around you can make you jump. Also once your treatment starts you will be lying in this large room totally alone. The operators will be in touch via speakers if they need to speak to you and will every now and then make sure you are ok. They can see you too even if you cannot see them.

I haven't played guitar since shortly after the cancer diagnosis. It rests just over the liver and could be painful. But try this to the song "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" by The Police :-

Every little twinge we have is magic
Every little stab just make me moan
When my side starts burning it is tragic
When there is no loo I want to go-o-o-o-o-oh

The latter is a real problem. I'm ok in the house but anywhere else once you feel the urge to pee it takes only seconds before you are desperate to the point of being in pain and scared of being unable to control yourself. During COVID it was a real problem as many public toilets were closed and even a shouted "I HAVE TO GO! would have no influence over a jobsworth. We did once have to screech to a halt outside an early morning coffee shop so I could dash in as best as I could, doubled over, to head with just a mute pointing to the toilet which was thankfully empty. Plan outings carefully.

4 April 2024. Halfway through! A couple of "incidents" on the motorway - one looked like a "Hullo Sonny, you're nicked!" one with a van surrounded by police cars and vans. Got to Christies again thanks to Graham and got booked in early. Got called in early too which was a surprise.

I usually snooze the afternoon on the sofa but today went up to lie on the bed as my side was quite sore - I'm wondering what next week will be like with 3 treatments over 5 days. But it will leave me with just one final visit. I'm told the dose keeps working for two weeks and then another MRI probably at the 6 weeks point to see what effect it has all had.

8 April 2024. Five down, three to go. Thanks to Janet Astley who took over from Graham today as he had to go to a meeting. Jan and I met at school aged 11. Just a short while ago...

10 April 2024. Yesterday's trip was 6 of 8, the end is in sight. Thanks once again to Graham for doing the driving. Just one more visit this week and then a final visit on Tuesday next week.

12 April 2024. Penultimate treatment at Christies. It was an afternoon appointment and they were busier than we had ever seen them. A little late going in but all went well. Graham was there to drive us and give me a helping hand out of the car and to say gently and patiently, "take your time, stop if you need to," whenever I stumbled or caught a foot on nothing walking down the corridors after the treatment. I have tended to make little of this but the sheer exhaustion cannot be underestimated.

As mentioned above, we have seen a few other people over the weeks on the verge of tears saying "I can't do this anymore..." but today whilst I was lying on the cold bench with what felt like a cricket ball pressed hard into my middle and whirling machines trying to bring out my super powers, Fran saw a chap just burst into heart rending sobs in the waiting room.

It's hard. Probably the hardest thing I've ever had to go through and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. The staff at Christies are awesome, the pressure on them must be enormous and I always try to make them laugh in some way, even if it's only that they shake their heads at each other and say "silly old sod!" when I leave. Most days once we get back after a coffee and perhaps a bite to eat that's me zonked for a couple of hours.

I now have 3 days "off" with my final treatment on Tuesday. Apparently the side effects (in my case the tiredness and burning feeling on my right side where the radiation goes in) will last - or "culminate" is what they actually said which makes me wonder whether it gets worse - for another two weeks after the treatment ends.

Then a gap of four weeks before an MRI to see if it's all been successful. It usually takes another four weeks after an MRI to get results so potentially ten weeks to wait before I get any news. For all and anyone going through similar stuff, you have my respect and my good wishes. You can - and should - do it some more.

Those reserves are deep down inside you and by the end of it you may wonder where they came from, but when you need them, come they will. I still have all my colour in my face, I don't look ill, I don't act ill unless I really, really can't help it, but people saying to my face "No you haven't got cancer - look at you..." you will never know just how angry that makes me even if I don't show it. Don't say it even if you think it.

Roll on Tuesday. Thanks to all those many people who have given me support, hugs both physical and virtual and shown love and help. You are bloody wonderful! I'm especially aware of what a huge worry and burden this has been on family, especially Miss Franny who has herself gone through a different form of cancer in the past.

17 April 2024. Our last visit and treatment for the present went ok yesterday. Thanks go to Mags Cummings for inviting us to her house nearby to rest before driving back, lovely to see you again Mags and thanks for the hospitality. Journey back was fine. Today has been spent asleep or dozing or merely just exhausted. Off to bed again now, life is just too hectic. Night all...

27 April 2024. Typical day in the life at the moment - lots of people complain of sleep breaks, where they can only sleep for short periods. For most of this week I've been having "awake breaks"...

The day goes like this: Wake up, shower, shave, go downstairs to make breakfast. An hour later reminded by Miss Franny to make breakfast. Make breakfast. An hour later realise I've not eaten it yet. Eat it. Half an hour later am woken from doze by Miss Franny to tell me my coffee will be stone cold. Drink stone cold coffee.

Doze until dinner. Have soup and toast or similar for lunch sitting under supervision next to Miss Franny. Woken up to be sent to bed for a couple of hours. Sleep. Woken up in case Grace calls on her way home from school. Sit dazed by rapid progression of videos on her phone of 20-30 year old girls with annoying American accents blowing hundreds of dollars at a time on soft toys.

Once Grace has gone watch "Pointless" to keep brain from going to sleep whilst I have tea. Afterwards ask Miss Franny who won and put on something interesting to watch. Wake up when it is finished and ask Miss Franny what happened... Go to bed. Read until woken up by book hitting my face. Sleep. Repeat...

Family Memories: Personal Index

First Radiotherapy Session, March 2024

14 March 2024. Early morning start to Christies (even earlier for that top man Graham Astley once again acting as chauffeur, carer and all-round good egg) and we got there in good time. I went to register for my MRI, had to undress and wear a gown - either I have shrunk or they have grown - maybe as well because it had to be tied at the front so they could admire my new tattoos.

Usually I spurt blood all over the place quite nonchalantly but this time the canula went in just above my wrist and my left arm must have been empty from the elbow down. The right arm worked though. Inflatable belt again and this time with the added bulk of the MRI plate resting on my abdomen - a ticklish moment when the hard bit of the velcro belt fastening got twisted and the edge started to dig in me under the weight of the plate. I had to stop them, but it got sorted and I was trundled head first into the MRI tunnel - not a huge amount of space between the MRI tunnel ceiling and everything that moved along with me after being belted, inflated and plated...

Ear plugs inserted - not had those before but it was ok - they went in my ears... - and headphones on. Very noisy machine, much more so than Blackpool or Leeds. Had to hold my breath having breathed out which I find very difficult due to the asthma and is illogical anyway, you can't hold what you've already got rid of...

Very stiff and sore coming out of tunnel at the end and when the nurse said "You can sit up now" I had to answer, "Easy for you to say!" So my ankles were grabbed, legs swung to side of bed, hands on shoulders sitting me up - voice from in front says "oh... I'll just shut the door..." as passers-by were treated to bare legs and undies.

They were very apologetic (the nurses not the passers-by). I said "It's ok, I'm old enough not to worry about it as long as no-one actually laughs..." Home now, rested, (means I went to sleep...) and ready to start thinking about this weekend's event as we are off to one of Talking Pictures TV's fabulous Film Festivals. Yay for the good guys.

16 March 2024. A couple of days later we were down in St Albans at the Talking Pictures TV event. I've been lucky enough to know and have fairly long acquaintances with a number of actors in my life and here I am with Bond girls Caroline Munro and Madeline Smith. Other highlights of the weekend were my usual chat with Noel Cronin, who started off our favourite TV channel, getting to sit as "minder" to Caroline over her autograph session, something I've done many times over the years since we first met in 1997. Someone asked if I were her husband... I quickly denied it before she had time to look affronted!

Oh and that naughty but nice chanteuse, Lola Lamour nipped my bum as I was in a queue for coffee. Back on stage after the break, she grinned at me and said, "I pinched your bum!"
"Yes..." I answered loudly, "can I have it back?

21 March 2024. I got a phone call from The Christie hospital. After the MRI they are thinking of reducing the risk to my heart a bit by delivering the radiotherapy over 8 visits rather than 5 (bearing in mind that with a normal doseage it would take 30 visits...

27 March 2024. Graham arrived early to take us once more to Christies. This was for my first radiotherapy session. I was a bit quieter than usual perhaps, wondering what lay ahead as we drove there. I had been warned it might make me feel sick, so Janet had loaded a washing basket with towels - so many I wondered whether she thought I might explode... Anyway it didn't affect me that way.

The session went ok apart from sudden horrendous pain when the belt thing being adjusted moved a floating rib. I had to ask them to let out the belt and physically push the rib back. Luckily I had come across a description of floating ribs beforehand or that could have been a lot more frightening. Do a Google search for "floating ribs".

The procedure means uncovering all parts the beam needs to travel through from one tattoo to another both up/down and side to side. Trousers and undies were pushed down but not removed altogether. This huge lump of machinery moves around you at times (you are on a narrown bed but not in any surrounding tube like with an MRI). You will probably be able to see the point of origin of the laser beams used to pinpoint the track from tattoo to tattoo. Gazing fixedly at them is not recommended. Also the room is very large and cold but you just have to put up with that.

The radiotherapy itself was over in what seemed like a much shorter time than I had expecting. I got off the machine and managed to keep my trousers from falling right down, but then realised I had hold of my trousers but not my undies and had to go fishing... Ah the joys of hospital visits...

I had a burning sensation in the side where the tattoo was for a while but not sure if that was just the weary old body playing tricks with my mind. It felt real though and I asked at my next visit and was told it probably was real.

I was exhausted coming out - I went to sleep in the car coming back. I spent a lot of the afternoon asleep too but we were up early and I suspect that I'll sleep better tonight instead of wondering what I'll be facing next time. Visits are scheduled for either 2 or 3 times a week with a minumum of one free day between treatment days.

Family Memories: Personal Index

Cancer: Preparation for Radiotherapy

12 September 2023. Carrying on from the previous article, it is now the third day after the second TACE procedure on my cancer. The bruise from my groin extends a full 12 inches (30 and a bit cm) round the top of my leg, up the side of my bum and looks set to extend up my back. Though it is starting to go yellow in a few spots. The twinges and stabbies have now started a bit in my side and I know they will get worse and probably last a few months now. Getting tired easily, can nap at any time whilst eating, whilst at the computer, am not driving...!

20 September 2023. Whilst trying to protect the area to the side of my bits where a catheter was shoved up not quite a fortnight ago, I've strained the other side haven't I... So whilst sitting, jumping up and uttering "Oh, 'pon my word!" every now and then, I get a package from Talking Pictures TV with tickets for one of their film festivals that I booked, only to find I'd only ordered one ticket and not two. On the phone grovelling and paying for another ticket and have now returned the ticket for the centre of the front row and await whatever are the best tickets for two seats together. Sigh... I remember when my mind worked properly...

22 September 2023. Ok, so I'm back on track now thank goodness and healing well. Bruise is mostly yellow but still have an 8" x 1.5" strip with purple. Most afternoons involve a nap for anything up to a couple of hours, so often that I have given up and just go to bed for a few hours each afternoon. I have managed to get out of the house once or twice.

19 October 2023. MRI No.6 done and dusted. We found the hotel after a false start... There are four Premier Inns in Leeds and we saw the sign for one from the 4th floor of the car park after picking up the case. It was, of course, the wrong one and in the opposite direction than the one we were booked in.

The MRI machine surprised me a couple of times by saying "take shallow breaths...". So after a short interlude of panting I was starting to think I should breathe into a paper bag... Also the nurse said "I've seen you before haven't I?" So I thought here we go, she remembers me spraying blood all over the place, but no! She remembered either the face or the physique - probably the face because she didn't laugh... So now it's the usual wait for the results whilst trying not to bite my nails further down than the first knuckle... Onwards and upwards! Xxxx

21 November 2023. Tomorrow we are heading once more over to Leeds as I have a face to face with the consultant re the cancer. Not sure what to expect as I've already been told the last set of blood tests showed anaemia or low haemoglobin count again. Any more iron tablets and I'll be unable to walk past magnets...

22 November 2023. Back from the trip to Leeds. Mixed news as always. The last op had no effect. The two tumours haven't changed in size and are both still active or viable - meaning capable of being active. So the medical bods at Leeds are now meeting as a team to decide whether they should try the procedure again or, because the first one shrank the main tumour enough that it's just under the upper limit for radiotherapy, whether to try that.

The team meeting will look at where entry (target) points for radiation would need to be and whether that would zap any other parts that shouldn't be zapped. If they go for radiotherapy it could be done at Christies in Manchester which would knock an hour off each journey. Options would only be Leeds or Christies as it has to be done in a major cancer-specialising hospital. Not likely to hear now until near Christmas and nothing likely to happen until next year. Took a full 8-hour day that, from leaving house to getting back.

28 November 2023. I'm getting very dozy. I can fall asleep no matter where I am, at my desk, watching TV, in the doctor's waiting room. Miss Franny is having to nudge me every half hour or so...

1 December 2023. Blooming heck! Mid meal - CRUNCH! - sigh... didn't need that tooth anyway... This is the start of a few losses in the mouth, mainly on the lower right where one missing tooth has created a space for another one to gradually lean over, crushing another couple of teeth. Luckily they haven't caused any pain or discomfort so I've sort of ignored them. Our dentist got taken over by someone who announced I needed four extractions and two fillings before I'd even opened my mouth...

16 January 2024. Follow-up to the meeting at Leeds on 22 Nov. Apparently my details and scans have been forwarded from Leeds to Christies Hospital who are still to make a decision on whether radiotherapy is possible for me. Next step is wait for Christies to get in touch and presumably they will want an up-to-date scan to see whether the tumours have grown or not since my last scan in October. In other words: don't know nuffink... The only thing I do know is that I am still able to fall asleep within two seconds of letting my mind go blank...

8 February 2024. It's my first visit to Christies (or more formally: The Christie) Hospital just outside Manchester today. I am to have Stereotatic Ablative Body Radiotherapy which is high dose, precisely targetted and due to the high dosage will be completed within 5 treatments, one every two days. There are some risks and some side effects. The risk of not having it done is of course a touch more severe... Two visits before the treatment days to have scans done to see how much my liver moves about of its own accord. (It's always been a bit flighty...) Some sort of belt is used to limit my breathing during the hour long treatments - sounds fun to a life-long asthmatic. They estimate that treatment will start in March. Oh... and I have apparently shrunk an inch and a half in height since the last time I was measured.

I updated friends on Facebook and had a few questions directed to me about what on earth "Stereotatic Ablative Body Radiotherapy" meant. I responded:

SABR - stereotatic means two beams - all the better to make me glow in the dark. Hope they don't cross the beams! (see Ghostbusters for explanation)

Ablative means to reduce.

Body apparently means that just the thought of it has reduced me one and a half inches already

Radiotherapy means I'll go green and strong when narked... a bit like the jolly green giant... or the Hulk... or something... This would have been better on Facebook if I hadn't missed out the letter R in narked...

15 February 2024. Letters arriving from Christies on a daily basis (well, it's only been a couple of days...) CT scan and planning meeting scheduled for 8 March and MRI on 14 March. Expecting the treatment to start shortly afterwards.

8 March 2024. To Christies for a CT scan and meet with the oncology team to plan the raidotherapy treatment. We had met up with friends from school days a couple of weeks ago and Graham had very kindly offered to drive us to Christies whenever I needed to go. "I can't ask you to take me there twice a week!" I exclaimed.

"Well... you can..." came the calm reply. What an absolute gent. Already he had taken us to Leeds many times, giving up a entire day each time.

Anyway we got to Christies, found that there was free parking. I found the Radiotherapy ward ok, got registered, had the prep talk then decided not to risk the scanner without going to the loo first. Then of course I got lost in a long corridor as the loo was down a side corridor... I also managed to get lost coming back, as all the doors were marked "Radiation - Do Not Enter" so I didn't fancy opening the wrong door...

The bit I was worried about was the belt around the abdomen to restrict my breathing. The nurse assisting with the CT put it on and tightened it and I thought "oh... not so bad..." Then she said "I'll inflate it now..." It felt a bit like having a solid cricket ball pressed hard into your stomach making each breath a gasp. My chest looks like a noughts and crosses board, arrows everywhere (drawn on not shot at...) I got four tattooed dots, which would be used to ensure the beam would enter and travel through me from the right point and in the right direction. Two dots gave the vertical target and two others from side to side gave the horizontal. I had been warned the beam would touch the bottom of a lung and my heart. One of the dots was tattooed only an inch above a designated area of natural interest (that one made me wince!).

This was the tattoo on my chest - no you can't see the corresponding one lower down...

We got home mid afternoon, I was asleep in 15 minutes flat... The actual radiotherapy will start in just a few days.

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