Impending treatment and thoughts of poo, and memories of guiding..........

 Here I am  - on Easter Monday 2022 - reflecting upon the start of 7 weeks of radiotherapy, beginning tomorrow. Well - “reflecting” probably isn’t the right word, as it hasn’t started yet, and you cant really reflect upon something that’s looming over you in the future. I should perhaps have just said “musing”. 


So muse I shall. 

The treatment has been personally ‘designed for me’ by my consultant Dr Alex Taylor. I like thinking that it’s a personal design - makes me feel that she’s made me a haute couture dress for a special occasion! Anyway, apparently she’s spent the last couple of weeks tweaking and refining a plan for me so that when I pitch up at RMH tomorrow, the radiographers will be prepared and ready to administer this little number according to her x-ray couturing expertise.

The treatment in itself is going to take about fifteen minutes apparently. I’ve had my planning session, and have been tattooed accordingly. (Don’t get excited, four dots is all). They plan to give a low dose of radiotherapy across the pelvic region for five weeks (they have told me what the dosage is, but they may as well have been speaking in Icelandic, for all that I comprehend the wording), and then administer two weeks of stronger treatment to the area that’s showing activity as a final flourish. 

I had to sign a consent form, and prior to signing, we went through all the possible and probable side effects of radiotherapy treatment. Because my treatment focuses on the pelvic area, the side effects will obviously affect toileting habits....... oh shit..... (literally). This is my main anxiety. 

When I was young, there was no way I could go to the toilet anywhere apart from my own home! It always took a couple of days to adjust to using new toilets when I went away..... I certainly NEVER went for a number 2 at school! And as for camping? Well. I was in the Girl Guides and camped loads, and latrine duty was a given. I was always amazed at how many people were not perturbed at doing a poo in a bucket! Must be some deep Freudian explanation right there. I was always able to ‘deal with’ other peoples poo, just not able to manage to do it myself!

Over the years, I have determined  to get over this fear of public toilets, mostly due to having had a few babies, and recognising that there are many more demeaning activities than having a poo. Strange how we struggle to discuss this most basic of functions, isn’t it? 

At work, I was well known as the go-to midwife for sorting out new mums who had constipation. I think I might even have been known as the “poo lady” behind my back! (Let’s now not put those same words in a sentence in a different order............)

Anyway - I shall be travelling backwards and forwards to South Kensington for my daily x ray sessions. I think I might have to invest in a plastic contamination suit, just in case. 

That’s all I’m going to say today...... for everyone who’s asking me how I feel about the impending treatment - yes, I have anxiety.....but it is what it is. The Doctors have decided that this is the best way to fight the disease, and so that’s what we’re doing. I have nothing in particular in the diary for the next two months, and I shall treat this as a period of two months of work that I have to go to every day - as my wonderful old Brettonite college friends said “and it’s VOLUNTARY work”, but it’s a short term contract and it will hopefully mean that I shall get to enjoy the LONG TERM side effects that I’ve discussed with the team.    


Happy days. Watch this space for more discussions around toileting habits 💩 💩 (and I haven’t even started on the bladder concerns 💦)


By the way - picture included pre dates my guiding days - but it does sort of joyfully reflect the happy times



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

HERE WE GO AGAIN - recall - aged 64 - big girls pants needed

Image
 It’s almost 17 months since my last blog. Life had returned pretty much to normal, and most days I had completely forgotten about the fact that my life had been put on hold by the endometrial cancer in late 2018. I was making plans for retirement, planning a move, nagging Peter to get on with the outstanding jobs....... At the start of the financial year, I dropped my hours down to 20 per week, which constituted 2 long days at work, which I’ve been enjoying (until the massive cock up which resulted in an overpayment of £1000 which was demanded back over 3 months..........long story, now hopefully resolved) Throughout the pandemic, my contacts with the Royal Marsden have been telephone consultations, and then it was deemed appropriate that I should have a CT scan (just to check all is well). I had the CT scan last month, with a booked telephone consultation for the following week. When the consultant herself called me the alarm bells weren’t triggered immediately, but as the words ...
Read more

"Over the Top"

Image
Today was the day that I had to go to the Marsden for the first of my four brachytherapy sessions. I was feeling truly anxious about this. Much more so than before my date with the robot.......  All the research I have done has led me to worry that the side effects can be truly horrid - and I was feeling quite anxious, and that now, six weeks after my hysterectomy, I'm feeling physically almost back to normal (apart from slightly larger), I was agreeing to a session of being fried on the inside - with the consequences perhaps being long term. Appointment was at 3 pm this afternoon, with the request to get there half an hour early.  I went for a dog walk with my colleague Susan (and Tilly the Sprocker) in the morning, in an effort to keep busy. We had a lovely walk and I also bumped into my old friend (and previous Boss) Phil (and Rolo the Ruffian, his chocolate labrador) - Phil was the headteacher at the school in Brixton where I was the music teacher for 13 years, ...
Read more

A wonderfully boring life - pale winter blues

Image
 It’s a new year…… 2024…. The year that I shall celebrate my 68th birthday. This is scary. How can I possibly be two years off SEVENTY?  (I shall leave that question hanging there for a moment, all on its own….. just for effect) Tempus fugit - my father used to like to say on a regular basis. I think my grandfather favoured this Latin two word expression as well. I understood what it meant for as long as I can remember - many years before I actually studied Latin (which I loved - and yes….. I do think it’s a fabulous subject for children to learn - especially reading Asterix books in Latin  - which is how Ned started) I heard Rod Stewart quoting a saying once during an interview: “Life is like a toilet roll - the nearer you get to the end, the faster it goes”. This is a lot more words than the simple Latin adage, but I love it - it’s so bloody true! I’m trying really hard to cram a lot of stuff into my days - but have also become a master (mistress?) of procrastination t...
Read more