Wednesday 25 May 2016

Cured of lung cancer

So today was the day, following one final CT scan, that my consultant said he regarded me as cured.

If anyone has found this blog by chance and wants to know the story, then please read the posts from early on to see what happened to me and what I did to aid my chances. 

But, just to summarise: I had a diagnosis of inoperable lung cancer back in November 2010. I was put on palliative chemo. After four doses I was given the option, or not, for another two. That all went so well  that I was offered surgery after all.  Minus two lung lobes with no residual cancer in my lymph nodes, I have been on a regular check up routine which ended today.  I have now survived over the five years which are used in cancer stats.

My gratitude to my thoracic consultant, my oncologist, my surgeon and the very many hospital and medical staff I encountered is profound. I must also thank my Journey Therapist, the hundreds of people who either prayed or aimed their positive thoughts in my direction, my friends and family for their support, my Reiki practitioner, my naturopathic nutritionist and particularly one special friend who pointed me in the right direction for research into diet and lifestyle. 

My case seemed hopeless at the start but I didn't feel hopeless. It was difficult at times but I managed to stay positive all the way through and now, almost unbelievably, I can look forward to a long life. Oh happy day!


Saturday 21 May 2016

Where we are now

Well, as no doubt I told you, originally I expected a check up every six months for three years and then one each year for the next two and then I would be signed off.  I've realised - due to the enthusiasm by my consultant and his side-kick to see me every six months - that of course when they made this prediction they didn't think I'd be around to attend any appointments. So they keep seeing me.

A couple of months ago, after prolonged spell of holding my year-old grandchild on my right shoulder, with his knees drawn up because he had colic, I developed a twinge at the top of my chest on the left. It came and went and sometimes I'd get an odd twinge in my back on the left of my back. (I had my cancer in my right lung lobes) That reminded me of the only physical manifestation of my original cancer; a slight discomfort somewhere below my right shoulder.

So I duly ran along to the doctor about the twinge in my chest.  He said if it doesn't go away come back and see him. Well, around this time I was greatly stressed by several things and, although I began to realise that it was probably a pulled muscle at the front, and nothing more than a subconscious tightening of all the muscles in my left shoulder, I duly returned to the GP. He wrote "chest pain" on the notes and suggested I had the net x-ray early as it was scheduled for the next checkup in a month or so.

When I went to see my normal cheery thoracic consultant a couple of weeks ago he confirmed the x-ray was fine.  But he'd seen the "chest pain" on the notes and made up his mind I should have a CT scan. It is true that I haven't had one since 2012.  I told him the NHS had spent quite enough on me alraedy but he wouldn't be dissuaded so I'm not waiting for the results of the CT.  I see him again next week and I expect to be signed off for ever this time. Part of his motivation I think is that he's moving to work elsewhere and won't see me again.  I think he wants to be sure to be sure that when he leaves me I'm totally in the clear.

In one way it should be really reassuring; in another way, it's another one of those waits, another one of those check-ups where I hyperventilate and my blood pressure goes shooting up. But there we go - that's the system.  I anticipate it will be sunny news again and I will try to remember to up date you, dear reader. 

Tuesday 5 January 2016

And now with a picture

I know I've written about this before but now it's with a picture.

I'm resisting trimming my hair because I don't want to lose the chemo curl. Having wanted natural curls all my life, now to have just a gentle wave right at the ends is so nice and such an unexpected benefit from a rather unpleasant episode. I've become rather fond of the twist, so much so that I have even bothered to take a picture of it.

The rest of my hair is ridiculously straight - completely straight - and always has been up until now. Just the very ends of the hairs that survived the chemo are affected.  These are the hairs which were growing before chemo started, which didn't fall out and which are still in evidence.

Here they are - chemo curls (OK, perhaps not curls, but gentle bending)  resulting from six tranches of chemotherapy for lung cancer.