Previous month:
May 2023

February 2024

Tiredness kicks in - time to listen to your body

Within hours of my first chemo treatment yesterday, my body was telling me to go to bed. It was the middle of the day. But experience with the radioactive thereapy two years ago taught me there was no point in fighting to stay awake. So off I went for a solid three hours. I had been warned by my chemo nurse that the treatment package might upset sleep. In preparation for the treatment, a heavy dose of dexamethasone - a steroid drug had been prescribed in tablet form and then intravenously - it gives you a bit of a high. So daytime slumbers were followed by a disturbed night. But it gave me a chance to ponder idly on those prostate cancer cells that had eluded the targeted molecular radioactive therapy in 2022/23. That treatment dealt very successfully with the cancer cells that popped up all round my pelvic area, in my spine and lymph glands around my neck. I remember the relish with which I was shown the results after each treatment. But still after six doses of Lutetium-177, some of then survived. I think of them as having created nuclear bunkers deep inside my prostate. When the targeted nuclear attacks ceased - it was time from them to start growing again and feed on what little testosterone is left in my body. This time I just have to hope the chemo finds them and kills them off once and for all. It is rather hit and miss. Today was little different, I was up early for a healthy breakfast of cereal and stewed fruit, then out to shop, collect a prescription and have elevenses with Tricia in our local Pret. Back home and tiredness whelled up. Fanicful ideas of reviewing a book for Chartist have been put on hold for another 24 hours.

Time for chemo - tactical nuclear attacks failed

9D1A8557-C6A2-4657-862B-0725FBEF7FE0Much has happened since 10 May last year when I completed a trial of targetted molecular radioactive therapy. I seemed to be in respite. Energy levels rose with the sun. Digging was an activity I was able to resume. But scans proved respite to be short-lived. Today, I received my first dose of chemo therapy - Docetaxel. It's nine years since I was first diagnosed with prostate cancer. I suspect I have been brooding about being put on chemo ever since. But that's an aside from what happened to my body as the prostate started to grow again with the cancer. My ability to control my bladder has been compromised since October. Male continence pads, as far as I am concerned, proved a 'life-line' - enabling me to maintain an appearance of normality. Then three weeks' ago, I experienced an excruciating kidney pain - our local GP couldn't have been better - tests showed an Acute Kidney Infection probably caused by Bladder Retention - I was refered by the GP to a local Emergency Department. I went to University College London Hospital. Within minutes of a bladder scan, I was catheterised - tube inserted into bladder to drain off into a bag strapped to my right leg. Doesn't sound very appealing, but it sure beats feeling an urge, trying to reach a toilet and failing. So with improved plumbing arrangements, my appetite has improved and I was able to attend for my chemo injection. It was the first of six sessions planned over the next 18 weeks ending 20 May. To mark the occasion Tricia and I went to our local Cote brasserie for a lunch of steak and frites. Meanwhile, at Buckingham Palace - who knows.