Be Loud, Be Clear . . . . and Talk!

Today sees the start of a special week for two of the leading cancer charities. For the Beating Bowel Cancer organisation it's "Be Loud Be Clear", and for Macmillan it's "Cancer Talk Week". So, what's it all about?

Bowel Cancer doesn't discriminate. It affects male and female, old and young, but it is curable if caught early. The problem is that not enough people are aware of the potential symptoms of this nasty disease, and that's what "Be Loud Be Clear" is all about. The aim is to bring to the attention of as many people as possible what to look out for and what to do about it.

Ignorance can kill. Yes I know I'm banging on about it again, but I know from personal experience that missing the important signs can wreak havoc with your life and your family's life. I had all bar one of the symptoms of bowel cancer for a long time and put them all down to old age! I was totally ignorant of what my various problems could mean.  That ignorance could have seen me off.

So go and find out what the symptoms are and if any of them apply to you then do something about it. I must stress that the signs of bowel cancer can signal other things varying from IBS or piles to a simple stomach upset, so please bear in mind their presence doesn't necessarily mean you got cancer. What they do mean is GET CHECKED OUT. See more at

http://www.beatingbowelcancer.org/be-loud-be-clear-2012


So what's "Cancer Talk Week" all about? Receiving a cancer diagnosis is hard, and talking about it can be even harder. Just hearing the ‘C word’ can be frightening and overwhelming, and many people find it hard telling and talking to other people. How do you tell family and friends? Once the initial shock of diagnosis was over I worked on the principal that if other people knew I was at ease talking about it they might be as well, and generally it seems to work. Shutting yourself off does no good for anyone, especially you!

Remember also that it's not only the patient that needs help and support. It can be just as hard for family and friends and they also may need support.

That’s why this year Cancer Talk Week is encouraging people affected by cancer in any way to get talking about it - and all of the associated worries - with partners, family, friends and professionals. As they say, a problem shared is a problem halved. See

http://www.macmillan.org.uk/GetInvolved/CancertalkWeek/CancertalkWeek.aspx

Chemo Round Three

After having a post-chemo scan on Monday today was results day, so it's been a funny old week. The best I can liken it to is being in the condemned cell waiting for a reprieve. Well, I didn't get one. I did however get a stay.

The good news was that the bowel area seems to be clear, but secondaries on my liver and lung have grown a little, so there's more chemo to come. The medics are now deciding which concoction of chemicals to drip into me next time so the PICC line is still in place. Whatever they use is likely to be a rougher ride than last time, but I'm hoping this will be third time lucky.

All a bit upsetting but no-one's talking doom and gloom yet, so onwards and upwards. It's almost four weeks since the last lot of chemo so I'm starting to feel a little more like normal, and I've another couple of weeks at least to enjoy that. However no doubt between now and Christmas I'll be reverting to my Rip van Winkle persona!

Now for the wait

Yesterday I went for my last blood test and consultation prior to next week's chemo session, the last in the series. Sometime in the next couple of weeks I'll be having a scan and four weeks yesterday I find out the results. Has the chemo worked or are we back to square one?

I've had a mixed time over the last twelve weeks while filling my veins with a cocktail of chemicals. Tiredness and fatigue have been gradually building up to the point where some days I can hardly put one foot in front of the other. Next weekend and the few days after is going to be very hard work as the last of the drips take their full toll of my body, and then hopefully things will slowly get back to normal. I've been hit by the finger and toe tingles, but not had the sickness and have kept my hair so it's not been as bad as it could have. No doubt It's going to take a few weeks to get my strength and immune system back to the proper levels, but that's something to look forward to.

What I'm unsure about is whether or not I'm looking forward to the scan results. I've now got four weeks of wondering if the last twelve have worked or been in vain. I'm not normally a person who worries about things -que sera sera etc. - but I'm sure that October will be dotted with doubts. Am I going to get a break from hospitals, doctors and nurses, wonderful though they are? Has this nasty disease been stopped in its tracks or does more treatment lie ahead? Will I be able to go back to work before Christmas and get my life back to what used to pass as normal before all this kicked off?

The last three months have been hard work physically, and I expect the next four weeks to be hard mentally. I can only look on the bright side, stay positive and hope I'm proved right to have thought that way. Anything else isn't me. I'll just have to cross the other bridge and get on with it if ever I arrive at it.

Worth the Tears?

Yesterday I received a Facebook message from a former work colleague who has been keeping in touch. It reads "Love your blog! It's been a long time since a bloke made me cry! Keep fighting". My sense of humour, often described as strange by friends and family, immediately kicked in and I thought "I didn't realise my writing was that bad", but it was quite obvious that this was not what she meant. So, am I right to share my situation with others if it genuinely upsets someone? I think so.

Why? Well I'm doing it to get attention - but not for myself or my own situation. What's happened to me has has happened. All I want to do now is to draw the reader's attention to the symptoms of bowel cancer. If it helps just one person avoid this nasty disease then it will have been worth while, even if it meant reducing my friend to tears. Sorry Gail!

Happy (?) Anniversary

Bowel cancer is highly treatable if caught early. Its symptoms are  documented elsewhere on this blog, and all over the 'net. Please read the information and make sure your friends and family do the same. I was ignorant of the symptoms and put up with them as "normal" for two years. That resulted in a further two years that I could have done without.

On September 23rd 2009 I had a bit of a funny turn at work. It turned out to be not very funny at all, and set me off on a journey that's still ongoing. I'm beetling along on a medical mystery tour where only the driver knows where it's going, and nobody really knows who the driver is.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that one day someone would be telling me I had cancer and then over a year later telling me it was back and that it was aggressive. I hadn't planned for two major operations. I wasn't expecting to become a regular at four hospitals to avail myself of the services of a collection of top surgeons and cancer specialists.

I've had cameras inserted into just about every orifice in my body. I've had to drink or be injected with an assortment of fluids, some radio-active, to facilitate CT scans, MRI scans and PET scans. What did I do to deserve a tumour the size of a grapefruit, and needing part of my liver, bowel, bladder and stomach removing? Then why did it come back and spread to the muscles and arteries in my left leg, causing the removal of lymph nodes and permanent damage to my leg? Perhaps the Great Creator is claiming me back bit by bit!

I certainly wasn't expecting to have to inject myself daily or to finish up pooing through a hole in my stomach, both probably now for the rest of my life. Well, I suppose it's something different! I've had so many blood samples taken that I almost qualify for a donor's badge, and I currently spend three days every fortnight having toxic chemicals pumped into my body in the hope that this nasty little problem can be halted in its tracks. As if all that isn't enough parts of my journey now have to be taken with the aid of a walking stick or my little buggy due to the aforementioned complications during surgery resulting in a mobility problem.

So, what caused all this? I can't remember running over a nun carrying a black cat, so there must have been something else. There was, and quite simply it was IGNORANCE. I was totally ignorant of the possible signs of bowel cancer. Had the obvious one - passing blood - reared its ugly head I'd have been off to the docs like a shot, but it didn't. So I spent at least two years putting the odd bouts of back pain, constipation, Delhi belly, feeling tired etc. etc. to the onset of old age. How wrong I was.

I don't wish to scare anyone unnecessarily but I can't stress enough that, no matter how young or old you are, if your body isn't working as it should go and see someone about it. There's a good chance that it might be exactly what you thought it was - nothing serious. However it MIGHT be the start of something a bit more complicated that, if caught early enough, can be sorted out quickly.

Don't reserve yourself a seat on your own medical mystery tour because it's a bumpy ride and you never know where you'll finish up. PLEASE follow up on any problems with your body, no matter how trivial they may seem. Doing so might just save a lot of grief, and might just save your life.