It's only kinky the first time!

This is one of my favourite times of year as the long dark nights begin to leave us and our days begin to get bright and sunny again. Well maybe not quite so sunny but there is a hint of sun up there. I remember how much my mother loved these months leading up to spring, and how much it meant to her up there on her wee croft, getting ready for another year of hard work. Not that I will ever match her in the hard work stakes, but there again very few would. And I'm sure she is somewhere now keeping an eye on things and looking after me as I venture forth in my bid to overcome my cancer.

My chemo was restarted last Wednesday, 19th February after a two week delay to allow my white cells to recuperate. Apparently the problem is caused by low neutraphils which are a type of white blood cell, often lowered by chemotherapy. Too low a count could be fatal as my old body won't  be able to resist all these infections flying around. Frequent washing of hands is recommended as is the avoidance of anyone with an infection. You wouldn't want to kill me now? Would you?

My chemo infusion is administered in Ward One at WGH. It's a very busy place indeed. So many people going through the same agonies. Sometimes it helps to know that there's so many of us, like a team together against the world. But you do of course get to meet all sorts of folks when you're sitting there being infused and fussed over by the lovely nurses of WGH. There was one guy sitting opposite me with an orange and black t-shirt which said : "It's only kinky the first time". I'm sure he wasn't referring to the chemo, or maybe he was. Each to his own as they say. But I feel someone should have said to him  before he was allowed to leave the house that his attire was something less than appropriate. But I have to admire his chutzpah. He then got one of these electronic cigarettes out and began to puff away. I didn't say anything.

There was a woman sitting in the corner with headphones wrapped round her head. I thought she was speaking in her sleep but then she says " och I don't know" and I realised she was on the phone to someone. Everyone has an iphone or similar. Other phones are available as they say.

My infusion had to be slowed down as it became too painful in my veins, so I ended up with a four hour infusion. Once everything settles down I can get on with some reading. I read "Old School" by Tobias Wolff and was able to finish it. He's the guy who wrote " This Boy's Life" which became a great movie with De Nero and DiCaprio starring. "Old School" turns out to be an excellent little book set in a boys' school where they have a annual short story writing competition and the winner gets to meet the visiting writer. Our hero wants to be the one meeting Hemingway, having missed out on Frost. You will have to read the book to find out if he gets his audience with the old man. A short novel but packed with goodies.

Have I mentioned recently that I went to see Dallas Buyers Club at my local cinema? Great performance by Matthew McConaughey, probably now my pick for best actor Oscar, and Jared Leto is superb as transgender woman, who turns is heart. Definitely worth seeing but 12 Years A Slave is Still my tip for best film.

So

 I've been thinking for a long time that so is a lazy stupid word with which to begin a sentence; most of the time. So I was pleased to hear a listener to his film review show  on Radio 5 complain to Mark Kermode about his use of the word to begin too many of  his sentences. The good doctor didn't disagree but neither did he promise to desist but used the excuse that it gives him thinking time before he spouts forth.

Even the mighty Melvin Bragg is not immune, though not that he himself would be so lazy, but many of his guests on his Radio 4 programme, In Our Time, professors mostly, are quite prone to use the little word to start their sentences. What next? Will we hear them "touching base" or "giving heads up" or even telling each other "whatever"?  So come on Melvin, when you've read this, get them sorted.

There is, of course, one exception to the rule re so. There usually is one. And I refer to that great Pink Floyd song, Wish you were here, one of my all time favourite songs which I've been listening to a lot recently, as it seems to fit my many differing moods. One of the best versions is the David Gilmour acoustic, unplugged one which is easily found on you tube and which I see has been viewed over 13 million times, just a few more than have read my blog.

The song begins with the word so, twice. Nothing else could have done the job, so my rule is not definitive. It goes:

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain........

And finishes:

How I wish, how I wish  you were here....................The same old fears, wish you were here.

My next dose of intravenous chemotherapy is tomorrow at Western General. Been for my blood test this morning so lets hope for better result from that. I had a call from a nurse at the Cancer Centre to ask me if I was still OK for tomorrow. I took the opportunity to ask if the delay in treatment this past week would make any difference to the effectiveness of my treatment. She was unable to give me a positive answer, though she did say this kind of delay was not uncommon and they have spoken to my oncologist who has revised my dosage so hopefully no further delays.

Apropos my last posting, my friend Jane, tells me that Alan Bennett said, after he survived cancer, that he did not "fight" cancer; he resigned himself to his cancer and let the medical treatments fight it. Like Jane says that seems like the rational , unsentimental way to approach it.

Chemo failure

I should have had my second dose of intravenous chemotherapy on Wednesday at the Cancer Centre, but my white blood cell count was too low so they decided not to go ahead with it this week. I now have to wait until next Wednesday for my next session, which is definitely a bit of a bummer, even though it does give me a free week, it does mean I won't finish treatment until the 21st of May, and then only if there are no further delays. Peru is disappearing fast.

I seem to spend my life waiting for something to happen, all out of my control, a kind of suspended animation. I've been getting treatment for cancer now for nine months, spent five weeks in hospital, two weeks in bed at home, had five weeks of combined chemo and radiotherapy, numerous hospital and doctor appointments and now in the third week of an eighteen week course of chemotherapy and there still seems to be no end to it.

Looks as if 2014 is going to be given over to ridding me of this cancer, just like 2013. I almost said that the year would be lost but that sounds too negative. And I don't like using verbs like fighting or struggling in relation to cancer, they don't seem right somehow.  I'm not at war with myself. Yet.

So here I am trying to cope with the ups and downs of living with cancer and it sure is difficult sometimes to keep a positive frame of mind. Speaking of which if anyone else tells me to think positive thoughts I shall scream and scream, like the good lady said, until they hear me across the water. I do stay on top of things but sometimes it gets almost unbearable and a tear or two is sometimes called for.

The nurses at the Cancer Centre were their usual lovely selves. But they took four attempts before they successfully fitted a cannula for my chemo. This was a painful business. They then used it to take a blood test and came back an hour later to tell me that I'd failed the test so the cannula was not needed after all and could come out. This made me cry. I felt a wee tear was justified in the circumstances.

Thats all for now, just wanted to do this update on my treatment to keep you all in the loop. Life goes on. I've just had a call from my good friend Mike and I've forgotten to meet him for lunch. Fortunately he is a good man and forgives me and is coming round to visit me tomorrow morning instead. Sorry Mike for being a twit and thanks for not giving me a row.