Our Story

In true London bus fashion, we’ll do another update even though
John posted the latest news last week.

My last blog was after our oncologist appointment in
December, which left us feeling rather deflated (see Dec 18 post). I don’t know why, but we haven’t been quite
so anxious in the preceding few days before this appointment. Maybe because John is still feeling well, and
we have accepted that the PSA will have reached a level to warrant a change in
treatment. Who knows? We set off this morning in glorious warm
sunshine, with the temperature showing 17˚C – bizarre for February. The usual checks were carried out by the
trial nurse; blood pressure – normal; weight – 2kg lighter than three months
ago (marvellous result – happy with that); waist measurement – no change. The long questionnaire which is used to
evaluate the trial drugs was completed with truthful, positive responses for
how John is feeling. We went through to
see the oncologist on time. We almost
dread being told what the PSA level is, and as John said last week, we were
expecting it to have risen to around four.
Today’s result: 2.87 – 0.03 LOWER
than 3 months ago. 0.03 is indeed a
very small, and some may say insignificant number, but it IS significant in
that it’s a decrease, which was not expected.
We had to ask for confirmation in case we had mis-heard the result. The consultant seemed suitably impressed too,
and explained that it’s quite unusual to see a lower number at this stage, so
we should indeed be very pleased. We
have to accept that the level will most likely rise in 3 months, but in the
meantime we will revel in the delight that a reduction of 0.03 brings!

In contrast to the last appointment where we felt very
rushed, we were able to ask questions today, such as: when a new treatment is
introduced are we likely to see a drop in the PSA level [there’s no telling
really – if it does bring the level down – hurrah!]; is another round of chemo
possible when the PSA starts to rise more sharply [yes, it won’t be ruled
out].

John will continue on the Metformin trial and have another
blood test in 3 months, and depending on the results may not need to see the
consultant until 3 months after that (ie go to 6 monthly appointments with
monitoring blood tests every 3 months).
Next week he has a 24 hour ECG monitoring to check for a possible
irregular heartbeat, but we’re not getting unduly concerned about that.

So we are pleased to confirm that after a ropey appointment
in December, normal service was resumed today, and we certainly left the McMillan
unit with a spring in our step.

We’ve celebrated by ordering a pink velvet Chesterfield
sofa, and will be partaking in a small G&T on a school night – has to be
done!

Happy days.

When we started this blog almost 2 years ago, I thought it
would be me that would be posting the updates.
As you may know, John is not known for his like of letter/card/email
writing, so I have been pleasantly surprised at how much he has embraced
updating this blog. So much so that I have
contributed to very few. So, time for me
to post an update.

We had our 3-monthy consultant’s appointment on
Wednesday. We continue to get quite
anxious in the run-up to these appointments, and I don’t think that will
change. All hinges on the dreaded PSA
level which in an indicator of the cancer’s spread. At the last appointment the PSA was 2, and
this week it has risen to 2.9. Any rise
is a disappointment, but we have to accept that the level will rise over time
(possibly doubling every 6 months). We anticipate
that when it gets to about 4, John will be offered another treatment option, which
may be in 3 – 6 months’ time. We have
also come to realise that we shouldn’t focus so much on a number, but the more
important thing is how well John is feeling, which at the moment is pretty
good. We have always been impressed with
the care and treatment that we have received at the McMillan unit in the
hospital: the consultants, nurses and clinical trial staff have always been
very supportive, patient and caring. By
contrast this week we did feel that we were almost imposing; the staff seemed
short of time and keen to usher us out with a ‘Have a good Christmas – see you
in 3 months’ time’. John had to ask
several questions as we were being ushered out, which was disappointing. We can only hope that the staff were keen to get
to their Christmas party and normal service will be resumed in the New Year. It’s possible that the appointments will be
extended to every 6 months in the New Year.
Bizarrely, even though we don’t look forward to the appointments, we
aren’t keen that they are less frequent as it’s reassuring that the battery of
blood tests should detect anything that needs attention quickly.

You may have seen a report this morning that prostate cancer
testing has increased this year thanks to the ‘Turnbull – Fry’ effect. Both Bill Turnbull and Steven Fry have been
high-profile prostate cancer sufferers this year. Steven Fry has been successfully treated, and
Bill Turnbull was diagnosed with stage 4 (the same as John) last year. He has campaigned for men to visit their GP
if they experience typical prostate symptoms, as early detection (I’m sure you’re
all aware) is vital for a positive outcome. So I will now have my rant: all you
lovely men of a certain age (we are told over 50) – get to see your GP pronto
if you notice you have to go to the loo more frequently; get up to go to the
loo during the night, or take longer to empty your bladder. And all you lovely ladies – badger your
lovely men if you suspect that they may have any of these symptoms, and get
them off the GP without delay. In
hindsight, John’s only symptoms were feeling a bit tired, and maybe taking
longer to go to the loo. Get your
stopwatches out now: on average it takes 21 seconds to empty your bladder. Maybe share that gem of info with family and
friends on Christmas Day!

When John was first diagnosed we did an awful lot of research
and reading-up on cancer, treatment, research and all things related. (Note: stick to UK official sites only and
never drift into the whacky world of US sites).
Naturally the subject becomes all-consuming. We now
tend to do little reading on the subject.
I can honestly say that there isn’t a day that we don’t think about John’s
illness, and the future, but on the whole we tend to try not to focus on
it. We allow ourselves a couple of sad
days every now and then, and then pick ourselves up and get on with it. We have said before how important it is to
live life to the full, and looking back on the year, we have had a jolly good
stab to achieve just that; we’ve had some fabulous times and made some
wonderful memories.

Christmas this year will be celebrated with Dan, Ellie and Connor,
and mum and dad. We’re already planning
trips away in 2019 and will be kicking off with John’s Birthday in January with
a trip to the Cotswolds. Another
Maldivian paradise island (Amari Havodda) calls in April, and in May we will be
exploring the remote western coast of Scotland – something that we’ve wanted to
do for a long while. Don’t put things off, lovely people – seize the
opportunity and make fantastic memories.
Happy Christmas to you all. xxx

We first started to write this blog with the intention to
keep everyone updated with John’s treatment as it was becoming difficult (and
draining) to regularly phone/email family and friends with personal
updates. We have been quite touched with
feedback that we’ve had from people (some who we have never met or spoken to
before) saying that our accounts have been informative and helpful to
them. Having gone through the chemo
treatment we realise that the purpose of the blogs has now evolved, and,
although we are not posting as frequently now, it actually helps us to put into
words how we’re feeling.

As John said in his last post, up until a few weeks ago we had
got to a stage where we were not being honest and open about our fears for the
future. Our aim to remain upbeat and
positive came at a cost, and eventually resulted in a break-down weekend which actually
did us both the world of good. Since
then we have found that it helps to allow ourselves to have what we’ve come to
call ‘a moment’ which consists of a few words, a cuddle, a few tears, a giggle
and then back to normal. When John was
first diagnosed we knew that he needed to train me up in how to deal with all
the things that he routinely does, for example banking, paying bills, passwords
for many things, and numerous maintenance tasks that he actually enjoys (so I
don’t need to). We both found this very
difficult and as a consequence put my ‘training’ on the back burner as we both
found it too painful. We now find it
easier to address things as they happen, and I’m gradually learning how to do
things (that makes me sound like a precious, incompetent flaky who never does a
thing!). In his typical organised way,
John is compiling a house maintenance manual for me. A task this weekend was to
change the fridge water filter. John
calmly showed me the slightly tricky technique to get the filter in place and
commented that I’d remember the conversation in years to come. That brought on ‘a moment’, which led into
another as I was transported into the future, facing a solitary ‘moment’ with no
one to have the important cuddle with.
Things like that are scary.

Another consequence of our situation is insomnia. Neither of us sleep too well now, and feel
very pleased with ourselves if we wake in the morning having slept
through! So, a few random thoughts that
we deal with in the wee hours:

·
DON’T PUT THINGS OFF. I’m sure we’ve all heard of people who face
life-changing events that say ‘live life to the full’. We say ‘of course – good advice’, but then
carry on as normal. You have to face a
life-changing event to understand that statement and actually do something about
it.

·
We spend our lives being so busy with work. We get into the habit of saying ‘yes’ to
work, to the detriment of personal time, enjoyment and fun. It’s too easy to feel exhausted by the time
the weekend comes, and then spend time recovering and doing chores ready to
launch into the next week. We now say ‘no’
to work more, and don’t find reasons to not do fun things. That’s not to say that we don’t put in 100%
at work, but just less of it. John is
loving the freedom of not working full time and having fewer dreary
commitments. If possible give it a go –
it’s great!

·
Miserable, negative, needy people are
draining. Best avoided.

·
Was it Anthony Hopkins that said ‘no one is
getting out of here alive so you’d better enjoy it’? How right he was.

·
Be nice to each other. I now get very irritated when I see couples
arguing or being nasty to each other.
Have a cuddle – spread some love, and say ‘I love you’ more.

·
America is doomed. I’m afraid I’m lost for words when 17 innocent
lives are taken, and the argument from the US is that gun control won’t work, giving
an incomprehensible reason that ‘well you can kill someone with a pencil’. My fear is that their warped answer is to arm
teachers and students to defend themselves.
There is no hope for a country that has corrupt politicians funded with blood
money from the NRA. Thank the lord that
we are on the civilized side of the pond.
I will have to leave that (worryingly unwinnable) fight in the capable
hands of lovely Nicky Douglas – what a thankless task she has.

·
Holidays are great – the more the merrier!

·
Appreciate and respect nature.

·
In an utterly bizarre way, we sort of feel lucky
to know that we have a few years to live life to the full. It’s too easy to just tick along and put
things off for the future. You could
drop dead tomorrow and never get the chance to do all those things that you’ve
been putting off. Do it now.

·
Drink more red wine.

·
It’s too easy to feel the need to squirrel money
away for a rainy day. If the rainy day
comes don’t be afraid to spend it. Our
rainy day has come, so we’re going to put up a robust umbrella, don our bright
coloured wellies, and have great fun splashing in the puddles.

John’s last blog was to mark the first anniversary of his
diagnosis. Without wanting to have too many
anniversaries, today was another day of contemplation as it was the first
anniversary of his stage 4 diagnosis. We
didn’t want to ponder this for too long, so I took the day off and we headed
over to the coast for a good old walk along the beach at Southwold.

John continues to feel well, and is still kicking his heels
up not having to turn out to go to work on the dark mornings. Does he miss the daily grind? Not one bit!! He’s been busy enough just
enjoying doing ‘stuff’, catching up with projects and chores that have been
overlooked for a while, and not having to meet tedious deadlines. That said, he does now have a few bookings in
the diary: he’s doing some temp work in a couple of residential homes, and he
will be working this weekend at the Bury Christmas Fayre as a volunteer
steward. After attending the health and
safety briefing he was thrilled to hear that he has been allocated to marshal
the coaches! I’m hoping this new found
responsibility doesn’t go to his head, and he doesn’t cause mischief by
mis-directing the coaches or getting them to park at jaunty angles.

John has worked a couple of shifts already at local residential
homes. The first was as you’d expect –
decent home-cooked food, prepared in a professional kitchen. The second one was quite a contrast – he was
tasked with making a fruit salad and strawberry cheesecake. When given the ingredients he was not
impressed with being instructed to open 3 tins of fruit salad; chop and add a
pineapple; mix up 3 packets of strawberry Angel Delight and add some cream
cheese. I was very pleased that he did
these tasks and politely departed after an hour and a half. I don’t think there can be much pride or
reward in making up packet food, and in our opinion, the residents certainly
deserve better than that.

Other than continuing to take Metformin daily, and having
the 3-monthly hormone implant, John has no other medical interventions at
present. We do get quite anxious when
the 3-monthly consultant’s appointment comes along, as this is when we are told
what his PSA level is, and if any further treatment is needed or
recommended. As he’s feeling well at the
moment we put it to the back of our minds and crack on!

This is a very overdue blog update from me. I have left the updates to John and must say
that I’ve been pretty impressed with him for keeping everyone up-to-date, which
I hadn’t expected.

I’m not going to apologise for saying that we have had a
bugger of a year – almost off the bugger scale.
October last year we were given John’s cancer diagnosis, followed by the
devastating news in November that the cancer is advanced and
life-limiting. Chemotherapy followed from
January to May which became debilitating as the sessions progressed, and then
the months of rebuilding strength and stamina levels which we perhaps weren’t
prepared for. John’s return to work was
more taxing and challenging than we had anticipated. John’s mum had heart surgery in April, which
went well, but she was taken ill and died suddenly in July from liver
cancer. We then cleared the family home in Canterbury
and it is now on the market. John’s
issues at work became more difficult, and as he said in his recent blog, he has
now left and is contemplating what he’d like to do to amuse himself in the
future.

John continues to have 3-monthly oncologist monitoring
appointments. He has had a few aches,
pains and general niggles recently, and we had convinced ourselves that we
would be faced with bad news at today’s appointment. This is very out of character for us as we
are usually positive and optimistic. The
relief we felt when we were told that his PSA level had actually fallen marginally
was difficult to describe. We had
probably put too much pressure on ourselves as we have a holiday booked and had
convinced ourselves that we’d need to cancel if the PSA level had shot up and
urgent treatment was required (stupid, in hindsight).

We have always been happy and content to spend time at home
when not at work, but with the events of the last year we have felt the need to
get away for (even if we say it ourselves) a well-deserved holiday. So tomorrow
we are off to the Maldives where we last visited 27 years ago for our
honeymoon. We intend to do very little
other than chill-out, read, swim, eat, and possibly partake in the odd
cocktail. Right – packing awaits!!

Honeymooners 27 years ago……

A month or so ago we
received an invitation from the West Suffolk Cancer Services User Group,
inviting us to attend a patient forum meeting. Accepting the invitation seemed
like a good idea at the time, but I must confess that it would have been easy
to find an excuse not to attend this morning (Saturday) on a precious day off.
Weekends are always busy fitting in chores etc, and enjoying some much
needed down-time just pottering. With no good reason to offer our
apologies, we duly went along to West Suffolk Hospital this morning, and joined
the other 60+ attendees who have all been affected by cancer, be it as a
sufferer or a partner/carer. John commented that it’s usually good to be
one of the youngest in the room; somehow today it wasn’t such a good feeling.
That said, although most people were older than us, there were a few that
were younger. We were unsure what to expect, but the agenda included
talks by our local MP Jo Churchill (or prospective MP as she needs to be
referred as prior to the General Election on 8th June) who shared her moving,
frank and personal experiences of her two cancer treatments, which prompted her
desire to enter politics to make a positive change to cancer services.
Another speaker was Dr Liz O’Riordan who is a local breast cancer surgeon, who
was also recently diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. She spoke eloquently
and honestly, with no notes or Powerpoint presentation, about her experiences from a patient’s perspective. Since
diagnosis Liz has documented her experiences on her website; writes a blog and
is an avid Twitter user. Gosh, I wish we had seen her website when John
was diagnosed in October. It was heartening to hear that many of Liz’s
observations and experiences mirrored ours, and her passion now is to educate
health care professionals so that the patient’s experience can be improved. It was such a relief to hear both Jo and Liz describing their memories of
their diagnosis so vividly, and how it affected them. They are both
clearly highly intelligent individuals, but they both experienced the same
complete shock and raw emotion that we did on hearing the news that no one
wants to hear. I’ve also been interested to hear that many people find it
helpful to keep a diary to document their thoughts. Doing so certainly
helped me when John was first diagnosed, as I would spend endless sleepless
hours going over and over events; scared that I would forget details or
important facts. Writing these feelings down helped me to not dwell on
things that had happened, and focus more on what was to come.
We were also given the opportunity this morning to speak
about our experiences of treatment that we have received (I can’t bear to call
it our ‘cancer journey’ which many people refer to it as). We were able
to speak about things which may appear petty and trivial, but other cancer
patients and health care professionals completely understand and recognise the lasting effect that some minor event or action can have. Such as: 1. Being told that you
have cancer, and then immediately being inundated with facts, figures and
options – going into shock and not being offered a glass of water or cup of tea
which you desperately need. 2. Being quickly ushered into an
adjoining room to have a chat with a nurse to allow the consultant to deliver
news to the couple that were in the queue behind you. 3. Within 30
minutes of diagnosis being provided with a stack of information leaflets which
are put into a black plastic wallet (the wallet of doom which I promptly burned
the next morning). 4. Within 30 minutes of diagnosis being given
information about your sex life during and after treatment (not at the
forefront of your mind at that time!). 5. Being told that there are
2 treatment options (surgery or radiotherapy), but there is no urgency to
decide which treatment to have, only to be told at the next appointment that
the cancer is advanced and there are no treatment options. 6. The
sheer brutality of being told that the cancer is advanced and the prognosis is
4 – 5 years. 7. Poor personal hygiene of consultants that cough
into their hand and then shake yours when you are vulnerable to infections when
having chemotherapy. 8. Reluctance to walk into the Macmillan
support unit due to the presence of a line of sinister looking mannequins
wearing dated wigs. 9. Eventually visiting the Macmillan support
unit (this morning) and focusing on a folder on a shelf marked ‘funeral
information’. These things may seem like a bit of a rant, but the
facilitators did seem genuinely keen to hear of patient’s and carer’s
experiences, and we are hopeful that they will be able to put in place some
changes to improve services in the future. Having said that, other than these
relatively minor points, the treatment that we have received has been
excellent.

So how is John now, 2 weeks
after his 6th chemo? He’s
doing well! He had aimed to start his
phased return to work last week, but fatigue got the better of him, and his
return has now been delayed to next week (all going well). His hair has started to regrow and it is coming back thick and brown/grey, replacing the colourless wiry mat that he’s had since January. We may not have mentioned, but another
side-effect of the chemo treatment is damage to finger nails which become
damaged, discoloured, and brittle. To
prove that he has now had 6 rounds of chemo you can count the lines on his
fingernails:

John has completed a
gardening project to lay membrane and bark chippings in our fruit garden. This has been a major task for him, and would
have been completed with far less effort and a lot quicker just a few months
ago, but it’s been a massive achievement for him to complete some manual work
outside.

Next week we have an
appointment with the interim oncologist consultant and we intend to go with a
list of questions. We are entering a
phase which makes many people anxious – treatment comes to an end and you are
left alone to think ‘what happens next’.

On Thursday we are attending
the Building Awards Dinner. Watch this
space for the results!

We have realised that we’ve been a bit remiss in not updating the blog in three weeks since the last chemo session. This can be taken as good news as all is going well; it’s business as usual, and we’re recognising the pattern of side effects and how John feels is consistent after each chemo session. If anything he is beginning to feel more tired for longer, but this is to be expected and does not give cause for concern. In the couple of days before a chemo session he feels almost back to normal. He continues to go to work and has managed to do some almost full days, much to the surprise of the medical team. In addition to the side-effects that we’ve mentioned before, he also now gets particularly dry hands and has found that he can’t operate his tablet without using a stylus. That’s a side effect that wouldn’t have been a problem just a few years ago. We have also noticed that the hairs on his legs are falling out, and he is getting a bit of a ‘steroid bloaty’ face. Or perhaps he’s just put on a little weight?
On Tuesday we had a meeting with the clinical oncolgy nurse, who is happy with how he is responding. The hospital has now recruited a second man to take part in the Metformin trial alongside John.
When we arrived at hospital today we thought we’d take a selfie to attach to the blog. We failed miserably, so John decided to produce a graph (oh, how he loves Excel) to show the progress of his falling PSA levels (1.36 today):
On Sunday we had friends (Ruth and Russell) visit us who also were given a cancer diagnosis in the same week as John. Being in contact with Ruth and Russell during treatment has been great moral support to us all. Russell has received aggressive treatment which has necessitated being fed via a stomach tube. He has been unable to eat a meal in almost 4 months, but is now gradually reintroducing some small items of food. John cooked a perfect lunch which Russell was able to eat, enjoy and appreciate the flavours which he has missed since his treatment started. It was quite a momentous occasion which we were honoured to be part of. Onwards and upwards for Russell’s recovery.
Ellie will be shaving her head on 17th March to raise funds for the My Wish charity at West Suffolk Hospital. She has already far exceeded her target and has currently raised £1500, so this will most likely go higher still when she shakes a donation bucket under her fellow student’s noses in the uni bar next week. Dan’s fundraising for Cancer Research has also raised over £1500 – fantastic totals for both charities. Thank you to everyone that has supported us so generously! xx
My news is that I left Huntingdonshire District council last week after 15 years. Friends and colleagues gave me a wonderful send-off, and I will miss them all enormously. I will not, however miss the 120 mile a day trip to get to-and-from work. I start my new post in Bury on Monday – just 8 miles from home which will be quite a treat. The job came just at the right time as work/life balance is now so important.

Today’s third chemo session went well with no delays or hitches. This week’s blood test results show the PSA level has come down to 1.88 which is great news.
So what do you do for 3 hours on a sunny day when having chemo….?
…..get carried away with the seed catalogue and order!

Since the last chemo treatment John has been into work most days, and only stayed away when colleagues were suffering from colds, and one day when he felt pretty wiped out (the pattern shows that his energy levels dip 10 days after a chemo session). He has actually taken this week as annual leave, expecting to feel well in the week of the next chemo session. More blood tests were taken last week to monitor the effects of the Metformin clinical trial drugs. These results were good (neutrophil levels were 1.3 compared to .5 at the same stage 3 weeks ago, and PSA had reduced to 2.2), so he has been given a longer 3 month prescription. On Monday we had an appointment with Dr Rimmer who appeared happy with how John is tolerating the chemo and gave the go-ahead to ‘come in to be poisoned again’. More blood tests yesterday in readiness for the third chemo session tomorrow.
John’s initial investigations started in September last year, just as Steve Hewlett began his Monday afternoon Radio 4 PM interviews about his cancer diagnosis, treatment and participation in a clinical trial. At the time we had no idea how compulsive his honest, personal account of his treatment would become. It feels as if we have learned the cancer language with him. If you haven’t been following his account it really is worth a catch-up on iPlayer.
You may be aware that we are rather obsessed with wood, and much of our spare time is taken up with collecting, cutting, splitting, stacking and burning wood on the log boiler which heats the house and hot water. The wood is a free resource, but we also get paid an allowance from our lovely government for burning it (The Renewable Heat Incentive payment). This has really helped to achieve our aim of having a carbon-neutral house. Dealing with the log boiler is quite a time-consuming physical activity, so we have decided to install an air source heat pump (ASHP) which can take over when we don’t have the time or energy to use the log boiler. The ASHP is being fitted this week, and although it should be capable of heating the house just by extracting warmth from the air, it will require electricity so it won’t be as environmentally friendly as the log boiler. I suspect we will only use it when absolutely necessary.
Well, no blogs from us in over a week, and you get two in a day. John managed to post his just before me!

10 days after the second round of chemo and John is already noticing a pattern to how he is feeling. In the week after chemo he feels good, with only a few side-effects such as slight fatigue, mouth tenderness, change in taste, and difficulty sleeping (probably due to the steroids which have to be taken alongside the chemo). He is still managing to go to work, although he did stay away at the beginning of the week as some work colleagues were suffering with colds. This would not usually be a problem, but it’s best to avoid anyone that may be infectious whilst he’s susceptible. Then at day 9 – 10 post chemo he seems to get very tired, and has a nap in the afternoon to recharge his batteries. It was at this stage after the first round of chemo that he had his hospital admission, so we are hopeful that we’ll avoid that this time around. We can only presume that his neutrophil levels have dropped again, along with his red blood cell count which will account for the fatigue. His appetite is not affected; perhaps if anything he has more of a liking for sweet foods which is unusual for him.
Today we took a drive over to the coast and had a short wander at Shotley Point overlooking the container port. It may have only been a short walk, but the bracing weather blew out the cobwebs and did us the power of good.

The Just Giving fundraising page continues to grow, and currently has reached over £1300 – amazing! Thank you to everyone that has supported us, and the charity so generously.

We have been bowled over by the support and generosity of friends and family for the fundraising head shave. We thought that we had set an optimistic target of £500 to raise money for Cancer Research, but this was exceeded within just 8 hours. Amazing. Currently we have raised £940, and it would be fantastic if we could get to £1000. When we set up the Just Giving page on Wednesday we hadn’t set a date to do the deed, but as John’s hair continued to fall out at a great rate there seemed no reason to put it off any longer. So on Friday night Julie came with her clippers and in no time John and Dan looked ready to be enlisted into the army.
Many thanks to Julie for giving up her Friday evening, and for contributing to the fundraising. The Just Giving site is still open for donations if you would like to contribute.
Two days after the last chemo treatment and John is feeling a little weary, and the change in his taste has reoccurred, but other than that he’s doing well.
Thank you all for your support and best wishes.

On Monday of this week we had an appointment with Dr Rimmer, the oncologist, to review the first chemo session and check blood results. It’s amazing to see that John’s neutrophil level has returned to normal (5) from .1 when he was admitted to hospital. This gave the go-ahead for chemo session number two which has today been completed without a hitch. It will be interesting to see how John feels and if the side effects take a similar pattern to the first 3-week session. This week he has felt fine, and has been into work each day. We have been told to expect the fatigue to become more pronounced as the treatment progresses, but we’ll wait to see as it is clear that everyone reacts differently.
We were told that he may experience ‘hair thinning’, and we had expected this to kick in perhaps after the third session. Last weekend his hair started to fall out well and truly, and has continued to do so this week. John has always had a good head of hair, and we are seeing that now with so much of it falling out. He’s decided that it will be best to shave it all off, and Dan has volunteered to support him in shaving his off too. This seems too good an opportunity to miss, so we have set up a Just Giving page to raise money for Cancer Research UK. We have been really touched by the generosity of friends and family already – thank you so much to all that have supported us so far.

It was John’s Birthday on 20th, but having just been discharged from hospital we decided that it wasn’t worth the risk eating out as his blood levels still left him susceptible to infection. But with good blood results on Monday we did go out for a belated Birthday celebration.

We are now home and keeping our fingers crossed that side-effects of chemo session number 2 will be mild and similar to the last session. We would like to avoid another 3-night stay in hospital. Two sessions down, four to go……