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Spring Picc-ings

Spring has sprung, albeit reluctantly and I’ve just celebrated my 43rd birthday, which I’m very pleased about. We went out for Chinese to mark the occasion, to an actual restaurant, and I had the absolute audacity to order 2 dinners for myself, which I ate pretty much all of, and I’m not even sorry. So there. 

I had scans about four weeks ago, which showed that my squatter has started to grow (Rude). It has only grown ever so slightly, but considering I’ve had no treatment since mid August, it’s not bad and was expected, although secretly I’d hoped it had just evaporated and I’d finished cancer. No such luck, but that’s ok. 


Conversations were had about next steps and a Plan A and a Plan B were formulated. Plan A was checking to see if I was suitable for a clinical trial, and if I wasn’t, then Plan B would be a Chemo - Irinotecan, 5 Fluorouracil (5-FU) and Folnic Acid - FOLFIRI for short. And that was ok. We like a plan.


I had blood tests and met with the clinic trial team who presented my case to the sponsors of the trial. However because I still have open wounds, and would you believe it, not enough cancer (I don’t have mets - it hasn’t spread to other organs), I was not deemed suitable for the trial. And that’s ok, Plan B it is. 


We met with the Oncologist, and she told me all about the planned chemo route, and possible side effects, and that I’d need a PICC line. And then things weren’t ok. It all became a bit real. I think because I’ve had chemo before and it fucking floored me, I am quite fankly bricking it this time. I’m scared of feeling as crap and poorly as I did that first time. Of not being a functioning person capable of Mum-ing and Wife-ing and Elaine-ing. There have been big hot tears, snot and ugly ass crying. Every time I think I’ve got a grip, someone is nice to me and I well up again. Stop being nice! But be nice. Then I read the side effects leaflet again, that was a mistake. Cue more crying. Then I was reminded to watch the PICC line education video - cried again. 


I managed to get myself worked up, because I’d have ANOTHER thing stuck on me; wound pouch, stoma bag, and now a PICC line. I’m like a blimmin’ Buckaroo, if any one tries to strap a lasso or guitar to me I’m going to ruddy kick off. Literally.


Mind you, after the infusion I will be coming home with a bottle attached to the PICC line, it’ll be attached for 2 days. Then it’s the rest of the 2 weeks off, rinse and repeat for 4 months and then scans. The side effects might include all the usual suspects of infection, nausea, diarrhea, fatigue, hair loss, but we’ll have to wait and see how it goes. I’ve bought stick on eyebrows in preparation. For some reason, and I can’t explain it, loosing my eye brows is freaking me out more than losing my hair. 


Thankfully I’ve got David, family, and good friends to scoop me up and make tea. Tea makes it all a bit better. 


I've got my first infusion tomorrow, so chin up, tits out, lets do this!






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