22 May 2024

‘O then, welcome pains, sickness, temptations, losses, crosses, afflictions of every kind, yea, death itself, whenever, and by whatever way it comes! for ye are all, but as so many love-tokens from my Lord, crying, Arise, my fair one, come away— No mortal joys are worth thy stay.’ William Mason

Don’t blog don’t blog don’t blog oh alright then…

After my previous bunch of mammoth posts (PurpleSam the Novel: I wonder if anyone wants the movie rights? Netflix B movie obvs..), I resolved to Do Something Else for a while. Those piles of music were not going to transcribe themselves, and my tax return was attempting to woo me into completing it early with vague promises of some kind of refund based on the fact that I have barely worked for the last 7 months…

But today I find myself laid up on the sofa with a Care Bear for company: the thought of opening a laptop is not one I can entertain, so blog I shall.

Frustratingly I am not here due to chemo crash- that was actually going pretty well this cycle thanks to advice from Nurse Kristine to fight it with exercise, the more strenuous the better. The word ‘willpower’ takes on a whole new meaning when you are faced with legs that are determined to convince you that they are utterly useless and that the only place for them is to be raised up on the sofa cocooned in a fluffy blanket. But instead, you force the feet on the end of said legs into walking shoes- proper unfashionable ones, not trainers, no use in mucking about- and somehow propel yourself out of the front door. Cue first surprise: the fresh air feels instantly welcoming, the sky huge and full of possibility. Hope rises, allowing you to start to push your legs round and round until they roll along automatically like the wheels of a cart. And you keep going. For 4k, in my case. On a chemo crash day. And feel better for it.

This is a game-changer… Don’t get me wrong, I have still needed plenty of flopping time outside of the exercise but the wonderful thing is that no day has been a complete write-off, which is a huge thing both physically and psychologically.

Usually on a chemo crash Monday it would be something just to manage a visit from Marvellous Monday Judy, but this week we went walking and aeroplaning and hot-chocolating…

So it was all the more frustrating when I began to feel under the weather yesterday evening. Isaac was away on his Year 6 Bushcraft camp, a fab reward after exam week, and I was looking forward to a cosy evening with Steve, kicked off with the kind of meal that I would never usually make on a weeknight- ostrich steaks with a port and oyster mushroom sauce (well, can’t say ostrich steaks are usually on the menu any night, but I can’t resist an Ocado flash sale..). The ostrich was surprisingly delicious (try it!), but I could hardly eat it; chills were coming thick and fast and I could feel my temperature rising.

Cue an evening of pouring over the thermometer and phone calls back and forth to the LOC emergency line… No pain relief was allowed as that would have masked the fever; instead I was told to drink a pint of water to see if that helped. It didn’t. Temp was 37.9, dangerously close to the 38 degree mark that would mean a midnight dash to Harley Street (the LOC don’t like you messing about with A and E, claiming that even with travel to London they will have you in a bed and blood tests done quicker than you could find a parking space at your local hospital…). I was told that SuperProf had been called for his opinion: happily the unflappable Prof had concluded that it seemed like a virus rather than infection and I had the go-ahead to invite some ibuprofen and paracetamol to the party. This was more than welcome, but unfortunately they were pretty useless guests and when I took my temperature an hour later the dreaded numbers appeared: 38.1. Bugger.

Steve was ready to shove me and a suitcase in the car when I said to him in desperation: ‘Let’s do Best of 3… Fair test and all that…’

Two more nail-biting readings… 37.9…. and 37.9 again… wooo! A stay of execution! I packed my bags just in case, but was so happy to flop into my own bed instead of embarking on a tour of London by night.

Thankfully I slept and in the morning my temp was an unassuming 36.6, as if nothing had ever happened. Except it had, because I felt pretty awful. It’s just a cold, I can tell, but my compromised immune system is having to work so very hard to fight it. It is winning, however, and this is just another blip.

It was actually the second blip and call to the emergency line this week, the first being a result of the most dramatic nosebleed yet on Sunday evening. Vesuvius eat your heart out: the lava flow here was way more impressive with blood pouring uncontrollably down my throat as well as out of the nostrils. Nice! I was again on the cusp of a trip to Harley Street but after an hour of being talked through various strategies by a lovely nurse, we found the key in the shape of frozen peas, the only thing that finally stemmed- or froze- the flow.

So some difficult times in amidst triumphs, but I am constantly reminding myself that these are ‘love tokens’ sent from above: see opening quote. Many people reading this will see that as crazy and impossible but I know that it is true and am comforted.

Today I had a long-awaited telephone consultation with a doctor from UCLH Integrated Cancer Care Services: one of only two NHS centres in the UK that specialise in complementary medicine to support cancer treatment. Doc Charlotte was extremely lovely and we chatted for over 45 minutes. I wanted her opinion on all of the crazy things we are doing, and to see if there was anything else she would recommend. She didn’t laugh at the huge list I rattled off, instead saying that she suspected that the likes of the powdered mushroom mix, blackseed and Omega oils plus many of the supplements are genuinely making a difference. Doc Charlotte explained what she can offer- homeopathy and Mistletoe Therapy, the latter being something that I have been particularly intrigued about. She thought that homeopathy wasn’t needed as I’m doing well overall, but recommended and prescribed mistletoe drops to be taken twice a day. Mistletoe is thought to have anti-inflammation and anti-cancer properties, and has been found to strengthen the immune system, reduce treatment side effects and improve quality of life. You can’t rock up at any pharmacy with a prescription for it, but UCLH are going to post mine out Special Delivery tomorrow- exciting! I shall be so full of mistletoe that I will no doubt be swarmed in the street by couples stopping to have a quick snog…watch out, Knebworth…

So my mission over the next few days is to rest and recover ready for a trip to Scotland at the weekend (yes!); if my next blog features a pic of me atop a (teeny) mountain then I will be happy indeed…

‘Even as we enjoy the transient things of this life, let our eyes be fixed on things above, where Christ is. For the one whose heart is in this world, the grave puts an end to all he hoped for. But for the one whose heart is set on the world beyond the grave, the grave is merely the portal to the realization of all he has hoped for’ Joe Terrell.