So this week begun with the next, undeniable, key stage, the first chemo treatment. The procedure itself was straightforward, without discomfort or pain and took about 1 hour, with 20 minute pre-setup and checks. Again, the suite where the treatment was administered was busy and a further visual reminder of the volume of people receiving chemo for various cancers.

Just prior to starting, I did enquire about the ice pack, head addition, designed to cut down on the chance of losing your hair. However, when I asked, it was explained that there is a 30 minute machine warm-up, followed by 20 min pre-cooling on your actual head, before the chemo can start to be administered. Whilst thinking that over (almost another hour in the suite), the nurse explained that, at best, it will reduce the loss of hair, but not prevent it. It may give me ‘patchy hair’, which is not an appealing thought, personally. When the time comes for it to begin to fall out, I have already pre-arranged with my long standing hairdresser, for him to remove it all in one go. Whilst I do not consider myself vain and am of the belief that you look as you look, the loss of hair is another obvious visual reference for me personally and anyone I come into contact with.

Regarding the impact of the treatment, it appears that that arrived on Friday evening, day 5 from the administration of the chemo. Around teatime, I began to feel physically uncomfortable, which rapidly descended into a bout of pain that I have never experienced, in physical impact. I can best describe it as pain spasms / ‘shocks’ from head to toe, but very random in ‘delivery’. Top of my back, then one of my legs, then torso, then arm and somewhere else, all within 30 seconds to 1 minute of each other and that situation carried on for somewhere between 2-3 hours. Very uncomfortable and intense, which then resulted in overall tiredness, as your whole body is trying to counteract the bombardment. That began to subside into the late evening, which was quickly followed by moving to bed to sleep it off.

The Saturday and Sunday were less intense and there was no repeat of that bizarre bombardment, but the physical impact was there, lessing throughout the weekend. The mental impact was interesting too, as I sat there, going through this new sensation, with no ability to do anything about it. The only partly physical alleviation was a rub from my very patient wife, Sandra.

The other, very obvious impact of the start of my chemo was upon Sandra, Alanna and Karl, plus those around them. It is clear that Monday was a watershed moment, with any shred of ‘denial’ being dispelled. They all struggled with this new phase throughout the week and that is a hard thing to watch, again, being limited in what can be done to help them work through the reality of this phase. On the Thursday, as part of the Macmillan services, I went through a ‘concerns’ survey with one of the team at Canterbury (by phone). Top of my concerns are Sandra, Alanna and Karl. During that conversation, I enquired as to whether there was any helpline where they could talk to someone qualified in discussing the impact of cancer on a loved one. Thankfully there is and that is something that I made them all aware of; in my view, better to talk to a ‘cancer expert’, rather than a general counseling expert. I have left it with each of them, to decide if they want to utilise that resource. Whilst I am the one with the cancer and they find it very difficult to know that and watch this unfold, it is equally difficult to watch the impact on those closest to you; something that will only worsen and time moves on towards the inevitable end outcome.

We knew this week of ‘unknowns’ may be challenging. By Sunday night, we had clarity on what aspects and none of them were easy to endure, deal with, or watch. To add to the mix, the start of a cold was beginning to brew and that added to the general pain and discomfort, although it had not come out fully yet.

In summary, next to the week where I was given the terminal prognosis, Week 191 is the next high point in a range of challenges associated with dealing with cancer. Whether those same pin spasms exist after each chemo session, remains to be seen. I at least know what to expect.

Thanks for continuing to read and I hope this is helpful to some of you readers.

Regards, Peter