A New Appointment

Today Susan had a phone call from the Radiotherapy department of Tours hospital. They've made an appointment for very early October to discuss my continuing treatment.

I thought my radiotherapy was going to be in Poitiers, but Tours is the same distance. Plus we know Tours better, and we know people in Tours. It may be that we can stay with friends the occasional night.

I'm interested by the lack of urgency.

At Last

I think I'm starting to get my bladder under control. 

I'm not having to clench and fast waddle to the toilet every time I stand up, and after 14 hours my nappy has only had to deal with the occasional very small dribble.

I'm having to use a lot of skin repair cream, because even dry nappies chafe.

I haven't had any serious hot flushes today, which is a relief

The end of summer

Our town has an excellent swimming pool that's only open during the summer holidays. I haven't been swimming this year, my operation was before the the pool opened, and lack of bladder control meant I wouldn't have been welcome in the water.

The pool closed at lunchtime today, and I went down to pick Susan up. It was good to see the Maître Nageur, who is a thoroughly nice chap, and others I would normally have been swimming with, but it felt odd. 

I had a couple of hot flushes during the evening. Most unpleasant.

Half Human

A quiet day today - but they have all been quiet. I cooked a huge batch of bean stew in the afternoon. Standing up and peeling onions and tomatoes was bloody tiring. I had a kip on the afternoon.

This evening we joined friends for dinner at a local pop up restaurant. It's only the third time since the operation that we've had an evening meal out. I got home with an almost dry nappy. I managed to be rude and a bit honest about the treatment, but the injection site is still swollen, painful, and bruised.

It was nice to see friends, though.

Bruised

My stomach is swollen, sore and bruised where I had the injection. Really painful, on a day where we were busy. I have to be careful to wear my belt not too tight, and lower than I normally would. There's insecurity for you.

First, we had an interview with the government health insurance mob in Loches (CEPAM). I'm unable to work while I'm incontinent, because my typical working day is about 12 hours, and I would be wet (and potentially a bit smelly) by the end of the day - not nice for our clients. Plus, of course, I have 7 weeks worth of half a day attending to radiotherapy to factor in.

As with all French bureaucracy, once you get into the office and talk to them they're extremely  helpful. We achieved in a 20 minute chat what would have taken 2 days and a lot of swearing whilst using the online portal. We may even get some money.

Then we stopped for coffee at a boulangerie, because why wouldn't you.

We had lunch with friends at the guinguette (think pop up restaurant). I am going out a bit more, but I am making sure when we arrange things that I don't want me and cancer to be the topic of conversation. Anything but that unless I mention it.

The problem is that the following things make me tear up: cancelling a holiday, not getting to Australia to see family, the pain and inconvenience of the operation and treatment, the prospect of more treatment. I don't want to be a morose bastard, or look like I'm needing sympathy.

And I don't want to spend my whole life being "that cancer guy".

In the evening I had my first hot flush. It's a side effect of the injection, and it feels like my brain is melting from the outside in. I hope the next six months isn't going to be like this 

Disappointed

Today I cancelled our accommodation in Andorra. The timing is just too tight, and I don't know if we'll get any sick pay - money might be too tight.

I feel like a bit of a failure - I originally booked this to celebrate my recovery - and when that didn't happen I was going to use it to take my mind off the various therapies.

Ah well. 

Ouch!

It's the return of the domiciliary nurse for the first of my hormone therapy injections. They're scheduled for one a month for 6 months.

The listed more common side effects can be:

• back pain
• blurred vision
• dizziness
• fever
• flushing or redness of the skin
• hard lump
• headache
• nervousness
• pain
• pounding in the ears
• slow or fast heartbeat
• small lumps under the skin
• swelling
• unusually warm skin

and you don't want to know about the less common side effects. I know they have to warn us about these things, but it does feel like they're saying "are you sure??"

Shit that hurt. They're huge, and it's a slow release jell which sits in a lump in the fat around the stomach. As it's the first one, it's two, either side of the navel. It hurts going in, and it hurts sitting there in a lump.

Not happy.