Today was clinic day and despite the fact I've had so many, it is still hard to predict what format it will take.
This time it was a more familiar process. Hearing test first (no significant change), then sit and then wait for Mr Morrissey to see me and give me a look over.
Like most medical appointments, it requires a fair degree of sitting around waiting, which begs the questions as to whether you should really tun up on time, or just arrive late and reduce the waiting time. It was 20 odd minutes after we arrived before being called in for the hearing test, and then we waited another 10 minutes or so for Mr Morrissey.
As the title of the post says, it was another good result. He is happy and there is no sign of the cancer having made a return visit. While he won't say I'm cured yet, he said in reality it isn't too far away given we're almost at the third anniversary mark.
Next clinic is in six months time, but he said in reality by the time they make the appointment, etc it will be more likely closer to nine months, which he felt was a good time anyway.
It's a funny old thing timing. We discussed how things had all settled down, etc and how this is probably as good as it gets for me. That's all fine and I have admitted more than once that I don't really think about it too much now, but circumstances transpired to give me a gentle prod this evening. Our home phone was dead and the ensuing calls with Telecom to try and get it sorted has left me with a very dry / raspy throat. If that's the price of still being here, I'm more than happy to pay it.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Self-medicating Isn't A Good Idea
When this whole adventure started, I learnt pretty early on that when the professionals offer drugs, you take them - they've dealt with many patients and know what is best. And while I was at home, I also learnt that trying to be a hero was a silly idea - taking the drugs to alleviate the pain not only meant I was more comfortable, but it was also easier on those assisting with my care.
Over the last three years, my life has pretty much got back to normal and the only drugs I take now are to compensate for the long-term affects of the radiotherapy on my system. They are part of my daily routine and by in large I don't give them another thought. Only last weekend, I did give it thought and suffered as a result.
You see, one of the drugs I take is to deal with the acid reflux I now suffer. In my "wisdom" I decided that I'd see whether my system really still needed these pills, so I decided not to take the pill on Saturday morning. In all honesty, during that day I didn't really notice any difference, so I pushed the boat out and gave the Sunday pill a miss as well.
By then end of the day, I was starting to suffer. Obviously there had been enough residual benefit in my system to tide me over until Sunday morning, but come late afternoon I was feeling decidedly queasy and contemplating just popping a pill.
But then the next dilemma kicked in - if I take one now, can I resume the routing again in the morning? How often am I allowed to take them before it is an effective overdose? I know the doctor told me, but I've been diligently taking them each morning for so long now that I couldn't remember. Caution finally overtook bravado and I waited until Monday to resume the pill-popping.
Lesson learned! This is where I struggle trying to justify why I was so stupid in the first place. I've always followed the medical advice throughout this whole journey, I always do as I'm told for general ailments, so why did I decide I knew better all of a sudden?
Regular readers of this blog will know how I've gone on about the new normal and how I don't want to fall back into old habits. Yet here I am seemingly ignoring all of that. Maybe it's also because as the 3rd anniversary of treatment finishing is fast approaching that I'm feeling a bit cocky about the long term prognosis. Honestly I don't know why I did it (it seemed like a good idea at the time), but I do know this simple little exercise in futility and discomfort has certainly hammered home the truth.
That truth is things will never be the way they were and all I can hope is to minimise the impact on my daily life. Given the alternatives, that doesn't seem too high a price to pay. Every so often I receive one of these little reminders and in total honesty I'm thankful for them because I don't want to forget what I've been through as doing so devalues the efforts of everyone who helped me win the fight. It also helps to remind me of the second chance I've been lucky enough to have, while so many have been less fortunate.
Will I ever do something silly like this again? Guarantee I do. Will I come to the same conclusion as I did over the weekend - you can bet on it.
Over the last three years, my life has pretty much got back to normal and the only drugs I take now are to compensate for the long-term affects of the radiotherapy on my system. They are part of my daily routine and by in large I don't give them another thought. Only last weekend, I did give it thought and suffered as a result.
You see, one of the drugs I take is to deal with the acid reflux I now suffer. In my "wisdom" I decided that I'd see whether my system really still needed these pills, so I decided not to take the pill on Saturday morning. In all honesty, during that day I didn't really notice any difference, so I pushed the boat out and gave the Sunday pill a miss as well.
By then end of the day, I was starting to suffer. Obviously there had been enough residual benefit in my system to tide me over until Sunday morning, but come late afternoon I was feeling decidedly queasy and contemplating just popping a pill.
But then the next dilemma kicked in - if I take one now, can I resume the routing again in the morning? How often am I allowed to take them before it is an effective overdose? I know the doctor told me, but I've been diligently taking them each morning for so long now that I couldn't remember. Caution finally overtook bravado and I waited until Monday to resume the pill-popping.
Lesson learned! This is where I struggle trying to justify why I was so stupid in the first place. I've always followed the medical advice throughout this whole journey, I always do as I'm told for general ailments, so why did I decide I knew better all of a sudden?
Regular readers of this blog will know how I've gone on about the new normal and how I don't want to fall back into old habits. Yet here I am seemingly ignoring all of that. Maybe it's also because as the 3rd anniversary of treatment finishing is fast approaching that I'm feeling a bit cocky about the long term prognosis. Honestly I don't know why I did it (it seemed like a good idea at the time), but I do know this simple little exercise in futility and discomfort has certainly hammered home the truth.
That truth is things will never be the way they were and all I can hope is to minimise the impact on my daily life. Given the alternatives, that doesn't seem too high a price to pay. Every so often I receive one of these little reminders and in total honesty I'm thankful for them because I don't want to forget what I've been through as doing so devalues the efforts of everyone who helped me win the fight. It also helps to remind me of the second chance I've been lucky enough to have, while so many have been less fortunate.
Will I ever do something silly like this again? Guarantee I do. Will I come to the same conclusion as I did over the weekend - you can bet on it.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Everyday Life Takes Over
I often wonder about the effect everyday life has on our general well being. How often do you hear somebody bemoaning they never seem to have any time and/or how fast time seems to fly by now? This is a theme that seems to keep coming back to me.
I've had reason to consider this even more over recent months as it seems indisputable that I'm falling back into some old ways and not strictly following the path I set myself three years ago.
Yep, it's been three years since the diagnosis - and in another couple of months it will be time to celebrate my 3rd re-birthday as I mark the end of the treatment.
While my health is now pretty much stable/normal, I've noticed that as time passes, the lifestyle changes my journey delivered are being pushed to the back by the "pressures of modern life".
Deep down I know the importance of staying true to the changes I promised myself, but it is no longer so easy to make sure they are always considered as part of the decision making process. Is that an issue, am I "falling off the wagon"?
Life has indeed moved on, and April has again seen some major changes in my life. This time, being faithful to the "new normal" wasn't so hard. As a result of changes at work, the opportunity arose to consider moving on to a new job, and after some not insignificant deliberation, I decided that it is time to face a new challenge. I've been where I am for fifteen odd years now, and honestly before the cancer I would have probably thought I'd retire from there. But now, I know I need to be true to myself and despite some last minute second thoughts, I handed in my resignation on April 17th.
I have no idea where my search for a new job will take me, but I know I have made the right decision.
April played another card as well - my annual Diabetes check-up. Before my cancer journey, I was diagnosed as border-line type 2 diabetic. The weight loss and diet changes have effectively put paid to that, but I'm still in the system and always dread that as a result of diet or exercise lapses, the HbA1c level in my blood will be above what it should be. As it happened, there was no need to worry - my level was 27 (53 is the trigger level apparently).
So,what I've learnt over the last month or so is that despite not necessarily "walking the walk" all the time, when something does come up that "threatens" them, these new values just rise to the surface and reexert themselves. I now know that I can trust myself not to regress to the bad lifestyle choices that used to be my life. While we Taurus' are renowned for being stubborn, this is a whole new level of subliminal determination that I know is wholly attributable to my 2010 journey, and man , am I grateful for it.
As an aside, I continue to have cause to realise how lucky I have been in successfully coming through my journey. I was lucky to be correctly diagnosed early, the radiotherapy and chemotherapy did what they needed to, and the love and support of my extended family helped get me through it all. That is why whenever I become aware of a family that hasn't been so lucky, not only does my heart goes out to them, but it serves to harden my resolve to make the most of my second chance.
I've had reason to consider this even more over recent months as it seems indisputable that I'm falling back into some old ways and not strictly following the path I set myself three years ago.
Yep, it's been three years since the diagnosis - and in another couple of months it will be time to celebrate my 3rd re-birthday as I mark the end of the treatment.
While my health is now pretty much stable/normal, I've noticed that as time passes, the lifestyle changes my journey delivered are being pushed to the back by the "pressures of modern life".
Deep down I know the importance of staying true to the changes I promised myself, but it is no longer so easy to make sure they are always considered as part of the decision making process. Is that an issue, am I "falling off the wagon"?
Life has indeed moved on, and April has again seen some major changes in my life. This time, being faithful to the "new normal" wasn't so hard. As a result of changes at work, the opportunity arose to consider moving on to a new job, and after some not insignificant deliberation, I decided that it is time to face a new challenge. I've been where I am for fifteen odd years now, and honestly before the cancer I would have probably thought I'd retire from there. But now, I know I need to be true to myself and despite some last minute second thoughts, I handed in my resignation on April 17th.
I have no idea where my search for a new job will take me, but I know I have made the right decision.
April played another card as well - my annual Diabetes check-up. Before my cancer journey, I was diagnosed as border-line type 2 diabetic. The weight loss and diet changes have effectively put paid to that, but I'm still in the system and always dread that as a result of diet or exercise lapses, the HbA1c level in my blood will be above what it should be. As it happened, there was no need to worry - my level was 27 (53 is the trigger level apparently).
So,what I've learnt over the last month or so is that despite not necessarily "walking the walk" all the time, when something does come up that "threatens" them, these new values just rise to the surface and reexert themselves. I now know that I can trust myself not to regress to the bad lifestyle choices that used to be my life. While we Taurus' are renowned for being stubborn, this is a whole new level of subliminal determination that I know is wholly attributable to my 2010 journey, and man , am I grateful for it.
As an aside, I continue to have cause to realise how lucky I have been in successfully coming through my journey. I was lucky to be correctly diagnosed early, the radiotherapy and chemotherapy did what they needed to, and the love and support of my extended family helped get me through it all. That is why whenever I become aware of a family that hasn't been so lucky, not only does my heart goes out to them, but it serves to harden my resolve to make the most of my second chance.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Yep, I'm Still Here
It's strange how time just passes by these days. I consciously decided not to do a normal "end of year" review, and before you know it, we're at the beginning of March. Bugger me.
So, given the passage of time, what is there to pass on? Surprisingly quite a lot.
I started the new year with a strange tenderness on the left side of my head. It ran form basically the top of my head down to just above my ear. Being the side the cancer was on, my ever logical brain knew it wasn't normal and having persevered with it for a week or so, it was off for what ended up being a series of Doctor's visits. Not that the tenderness required prolonged treatment, the problem was they couldn't decide what the problem was. None of this was helped by the fact my normal doctor was away. So the diagnosis fluctuated from potentially something to worry about, to possibly scabies, to nothing to worry about, to something to talk to the specialist about at my next appointment.
Hmmm, at least when I had the cancer, there was no doubts.
Anyhow, as the specialist appointment was the following week, it was decided he would have to sort it out.
Which takes us to that very same appointment. The appointments with Mr Morrissey normally start with a hearing test, and this was to be no different. They like to know if the hearing is staying static or getting worse (more on that later), so I go through a full blown test each time. I actually wasn't meant to be - last time Mr Morrissey said as the last 3 had been basically identical there was no need, but that message didn't seem to filter down. The audiologist did her normal check of my ears to start with and low and behold there was a large wax build-up in the right ear (left one was clear). so instead of the hearing check, it was straight on for Mr Morrissey to address the wax issue and decide whether the hearing test was to be done.
As with these sorts of things, it required a period of waiting, but eventually Mr Morrissey called us in and the hearing test was crossed of the list. After the obligatory feel and look down my throat (they are finding ways to get around my gag reflex these days and invariably get a look that satisfies them) it was on to the head tenderness. Seems there was nothing sinister indicated, so it was just a case of letting things run their course - which they did over the next few days.
In case you were wondering, there was a significant amount of wax in the left ear that required removing. Seems to be some weird side effect of everything that it only happens in that ear. Not sure if it is related to the radiotherapy or the hearing aids, but it is the 2nd time they've had to clear that ear out. Hearing did improve instantly as a result though.
The great news to come from the appointment is I'm now on a six-monthly clinic cycle going forward. Now I'm two years + on from the end of treatment, the chances of a recurrence continue to get lower, and this is reflected in the longer appointment cycle. Next appointment isn't due until July. Yippee!
Next challenge was the on-going issues with the hearing aids. Despite the latest tune-up pre-Christmas, I still felt that there was no real benefit being offered from them. So back for another visit we go (we're now over a year since I first got them and hadn't expected to be still trying to fine-tune them at this stage). This time, the decision was made to replace the open cups with a medium semi-closed cup. The cups are what actually goes into the ear, and the fully open ones allow my natural hearing to assist as much as possible. Seems the issue was that this natural input was actually working against the hearing aids to some extent, and thereby negating some of the benefit. The semi-closed ones restrict the amount of sound coming into the ear naturally, effectively shifting the responsibility to the hearing aids. The benefit from the new cups was virtually instant and coupled with a change to the volume settings, I think we might finally have cracked it.
And that pretty much covers of through until mid-January. Since then, things have been pretty normal. I've managed to start shifting the Xmas weight gain (although still a work in progress) and that is probably a good thing because slowly but surely I think I'm getting more recovery on the saliva front. Either that or I've just adjusted so much it isn't such an issue any more. That said, eating a meal still requires a good 500-700 ml of water to assist the process, so maybe it is the latter, or a mixture of the both.
Proof of the change is evident with hot cross buns. 2011 I could manage 1/2 a bun (and Ruth inherited the other 5 in the pack), whereas now, with the aid of a reasonably substantial amount of spread, I can manage two whole ones. Sure it does take some time, but I at least get there now.
So, there you are, almost up to date again. They say time is a great healer, and I subscribe to that as with each passing day I think I am losing a small amount of that lingering awareness of what I've been through in so far as the limitations are concerned. I have no desire to lose either the memories or subsequent changes to my life that came from the experience though.
Stay safe you all.
So, given the passage of time, what is there to pass on? Surprisingly quite a lot.
I started the new year with a strange tenderness on the left side of my head. It ran form basically the top of my head down to just above my ear. Being the side the cancer was on, my ever logical brain knew it wasn't normal and having persevered with it for a week or so, it was off for what ended up being a series of Doctor's visits. Not that the tenderness required prolonged treatment, the problem was they couldn't decide what the problem was. None of this was helped by the fact my normal doctor was away. So the diagnosis fluctuated from potentially something to worry about, to possibly scabies, to nothing to worry about, to something to talk to the specialist about at my next appointment.
Hmmm, at least when I had the cancer, there was no doubts.
Anyhow, as the specialist appointment was the following week, it was decided he would have to sort it out.
Which takes us to that very same appointment. The appointments with Mr Morrissey normally start with a hearing test, and this was to be no different. They like to know if the hearing is staying static or getting worse (more on that later), so I go through a full blown test each time. I actually wasn't meant to be - last time Mr Morrissey said as the last 3 had been basically identical there was no need, but that message didn't seem to filter down. The audiologist did her normal check of my ears to start with and low and behold there was a large wax build-up in the right ear (left one was clear). so instead of the hearing check, it was straight on for Mr Morrissey to address the wax issue and decide whether the hearing test was to be done.
As with these sorts of things, it required a period of waiting, but eventually Mr Morrissey called us in and the hearing test was crossed of the list. After the obligatory feel and look down my throat (they are finding ways to get around my gag reflex these days and invariably get a look that satisfies them) it was on to the head tenderness. Seems there was nothing sinister indicated, so it was just a case of letting things run their course - which they did over the next few days.
In case you were wondering, there was a significant amount of wax in the left ear that required removing. Seems to be some weird side effect of everything that it only happens in that ear. Not sure if it is related to the radiotherapy or the hearing aids, but it is the 2nd time they've had to clear that ear out. Hearing did improve instantly as a result though.
The great news to come from the appointment is I'm now on a six-monthly clinic cycle going forward. Now I'm two years + on from the end of treatment, the chances of a recurrence continue to get lower, and this is reflected in the longer appointment cycle. Next appointment isn't due until July. Yippee!
Next challenge was the on-going issues with the hearing aids. Despite the latest tune-up pre-Christmas, I still felt that there was no real benefit being offered from them. So back for another visit we go (we're now over a year since I first got them and hadn't expected to be still trying to fine-tune them at this stage). This time, the decision was made to replace the open cups with a medium semi-closed cup. The cups are what actually goes into the ear, and the fully open ones allow my natural hearing to assist as much as possible. Seems the issue was that this natural input was actually working against the hearing aids to some extent, and thereby negating some of the benefit. The semi-closed ones restrict the amount of sound coming into the ear naturally, effectively shifting the responsibility to the hearing aids. The benefit from the new cups was virtually instant and coupled with a change to the volume settings, I think we might finally have cracked it.
And that pretty much covers of through until mid-January. Since then, things have been pretty normal. I've managed to start shifting the Xmas weight gain (although still a work in progress) and that is probably a good thing because slowly but surely I think I'm getting more recovery on the saliva front. Either that or I've just adjusted so much it isn't such an issue any more. That said, eating a meal still requires a good 500-700 ml of water to assist the process, so maybe it is the latter, or a mixture of the both.
Proof of the change is evident with hot cross buns. 2011 I could manage 1/2 a bun (and Ruth inherited the other 5 in the pack), whereas now, with the aid of a reasonably substantial amount of spread, I can manage two whole ones. Sure it does take some time, but I at least get there now.
So, there you are, almost up to date again. They say time is a great healer, and I subscribe to that as with each passing day I think I am losing a small amount of that lingering awareness of what I've been through in so far as the limitations are concerned. I have no desire to lose either the memories or subsequent changes to my life that came from the experience though.
Stay safe you all.
Monday, December 10, 2012
I Wasn't Expecting That
They say laughter is the best medicine, and I must admit to being somewhat of a believer. A good laugh can alleviate stress quicker than virtually anything else.
Sure, two years ago laughter didn't feature that often in my plans, but things have moved on, and with the new normal has come the return to enjoying a good laugh.
I'm an unashamed fan of Mrs Brown's Boys, because it is good old fashioned humour. You can just lose yourself in it and forget about all the stresses of life for half an hour or so.
Last Saturday night we had our first Christmas function for the year and the entertainment turned out to be a hypnotist. I've always been somewhat of a sceptic, but what was to follow was a good hour and a half of almost non-stop laughter from the entire audience. All credit to the 3 guys who ended up being the entertainment and what a great time.
This is where I'd have to resort to the good old idiom - too much of a good thing can be bad for you. It seems that prolonged laughter dries my throat out rather badly, so much so that it took all day Sunday for it to really settle down again.
Throughout the show I was continually sipping on my water, so I was totally caught out by the way my throat reacted. It is the first time in absolute ages that my throat has felt that dry and I honestly don't know what else I could have done to keep it lubricated. Maybe next time I'll have a glass of soft drink to add some sweetness to the mix to see if that helps.
Drinking anything other than water has been somewhat of a hit and miss affair over the last couple of years, but I've always been able to rely on good old water to keep things "balanced" throat wise, until now anyway.
Just when I thought I pretty much had everything under control and there was nothing left to surprise me, laughter of all things somewhat derails it all. Let's call it a reality check - seems I can still expect the unexpected to remind me things have changed. Certainly ensures I don't let complacency set in.
Oh, and one more thing. While I can now enjoy chocolate a little more than before, I still have the problem of not being able to "process" it properly without the help of fully functioning saliva, but it seems that white chocolate is a bit more tolerable/manageable. Could be something to do with the lower cocoa content, who knows, but it certainly makes for a more enjoyable eating experience.
Sure, two years ago laughter didn't feature that often in my plans, but things have moved on, and with the new normal has come the return to enjoying a good laugh.
I'm an unashamed fan of Mrs Brown's Boys, because it is good old fashioned humour. You can just lose yourself in it and forget about all the stresses of life for half an hour or so.
Last Saturday night we had our first Christmas function for the year and the entertainment turned out to be a hypnotist. I've always been somewhat of a sceptic, but what was to follow was a good hour and a half of almost non-stop laughter from the entire audience. All credit to the 3 guys who ended up being the entertainment and what a great time.
This is where I'd have to resort to the good old idiom - too much of a good thing can be bad for you. It seems that prolonged laughter dries my throat out rather badly, so much so that it took all day Sunday for it to really settle down again.
Throughout the show I was continually sipping on my water, so I was totally caught out by the way my throat reacted. It is the first time in absolute ages that my throat has felt that dry and I honestly don't know what else I could have done to keep it lubricated. Maybe next time I'll have a glass of soft drink to add some sweetness to the mix to see if that helps.
Drinking anything other than water has been somewhat of a hit and miss affair over the last couple of years, but I've always been able to rely on good old water to keep things "balanced" throat wise, until now anyway.
Just when I thought I pretty much had everything under control and there was nothing left to surprise me, laughter of all things somewhat derails it all. Let's call it a reality check - seems I can still expect the unexpected to remind me things have changed. Certainly ensures I don't let complacency set in.
Oh, and one more thing. While I can now enjoy chocolate a little more than before, I still have the problem of not being able to "process" it properly without the help of fully functioning saliva, but it seems that white chocolate is a bit more tolerable/manageable. Could be something to do with the lower cocoa content, who knows, but it certainly makes for a more enjoyable eating experience.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Listen to the Sound of...
The human body is a truly marvellous machine. I know, I've said that more than once before, but over recent weeks this wonderful machine has caused me a little angst.
It's now almost a year since I got my hearing aids and over the months there have been numerous adjustments to get the best out of them. We have however struggled to get any real benefit in loud environments, which is one of the main areas that my hearing is noticeably deficient.
The batteries in the aids tend to last about a week, so imagine my surprise when, one day after they went flat, I couldn't notice any difference in what I could hear. I decided to test this find over the next few days and it certainly appeared that after an initial brief boost when I turned them on each morning, there was no noticeable benefit in my hearing.
This is where the doubts crept in. Have I just adjusted to what they're doing, so I don't notice them doing their job? Has my hearing got worse, so they can't compensate any more?
So, off to the audiologist I go and it seems it wasn't all in my mind with Nicholas sending them off to be checked. The period they were away confirmed they weren't adding any value.
About a week later they were back. They had replaced the receivers. The day I got them back the difference was truly noticeable - I could hear more detail than I'd heard for months. The following day however there was a wonderful increase in what I could hear, but it seemed to stop there. Hmmm. I left them off for the weekend and come Monday morning that all too familiar silence returned. Dammit.
Back to the audiologist and they send them off again with full description of what the symptoms were - another week au naturale.
This time when they came back, there were a couple of recommendations of things to check, which involved some setting tweaks. Before I go on, one of the suggestions was to fit the enclosed domes, which would effectively remove my natural hearing from the equation and replace it totally with the aids. We agreed this wasn't a good idea as my hearing issues are only in the high frequency ranges, and we should take advantage of that as much as possible.
Nicholas duly made a series of tweaks and re-ran some system tests to reset the feedback levels. Then it was the moment of truth. Yippee, success. It's now been a week and they are performing just wonderfully, although I haven't been in any loud environments yet to really test them out.
So, now I am indeed listening to the sounds of life that I was used to in the good old days.
I was beginning to have my doubts about the ongoing merits of the hearing aids, but if they continue to work as well as they are now, there is no doubt they are indeed making my life easier.
It's now almost a year since I got my hearing aids and over the months there have been numerous adjustments to get the best out of them. We have however struggled to get any real benefit in loud environments, which is one of the main areas that my hearing is noticeably deficient.
The batteries in the aids tend to last about a week, so imagine my surprise when, one day after they went flat, I couldn't notice any difference in what I could hear. I decided to test this find over the next few days and it certainly appeared that after an initial brief boost when I turned them on each morning, there was no noticeable benefit in my hearing.
This is where the doubts crept in. Have I just adjusted to what they're doing, so I don't notice them doing their job? Has my hearing got worse, so they can't compensate any more?
So, off to the audiologist I go and it seems it wasn't all in my mind with Nicholas sending them off to be checked. The period they were away confirmed they weren't adding any value.
About a week later they were back. They had replaced the receivers. The day I got them back the difference was truly noticeable - I could hear more detail than I'd heard for months. The following day however there was a wonderful increase in what I could hear, but it seemed to stop there. Hmmm. I left them off for the weekend and come Monday morning that all too familiar silence returned. Dammit.
Back to the audiologist and they send them off again with full description of what the symptoms were - another week au naturale.
This time when they came back, there were a couple of recommendations of things to check, which involved some setting tweaks. Before I go on, one of the suggestions was to fit the enclosed domes, which would effectively remove my natural hearing from the equation and replace it totally with the aids. We agreed this wasn't a good idea as my hearing issues are only in the high frequency ranges, and we should take advantage of that as much as possible.
Nicholas duly made a series of tweaks and re-ran some system tests to reset the feedback levels. Then it was the moment of truth. Yippee, success. It's now been a week and they are performing just wonderfully, although I haven't been in any loud environments yet to really test them out.
So, now I am indeed listening to the sounds of life that I was used to in the good old days.
I was beginning to have my doubts about the ongoing merits of the hearing aids, but if they continue to work as well as they are now, there is no doubt they are indeed making my life easier.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Innocent or Sinister
Yesterday was clinic day. It was supposed to be somewhat of a milestone with, assuming a clean bill of health resulted, me moving to six monthly check-ups going forward.
Over the last few clinics I have become more relaxed about it all. not complacent by any means, but certainly not getting stressed about it like I used to. The "shrinkage" down to a Gang of One helped as well.
An early good sign was things were running slightly ahead of schedule for a change - I got called in 5 minutes early. It was however with an Oncology Registrar I'd never met before. No probs, does it really matter who asks the questions and has the obligatory feel around my neck? Of course note. The danger signs however came when she was still poking and prodding after 5 minutes. That doesn't normally happen. Then she decided to consult her PC and dragged up images of the human neck that she looked at intently for a while, before coming back and feeling my neck some more. Then a quick read through my file and she decides she needs to consult with Mr Hamilton. I've now been in there for some 20 minutes, which easily surpasses the normal 5-10 I've become accustomed to, and I've not had any "scares" for a damn long time.
What seemed like an eternity, but was in fact 3-4 minutes passed before they came back in the room. It's amazing how your mind can develop the worst possible scenarios in a short space of time, and believe me, I was already thinking about chemo again.
Mr Hamilton proceeds to have his little poke and prod and declares there is nothing abnormal. It seems my hyoid bone on the left side of my neck has scar tissue around it from the treatment, so it appears abnormal when compared to the other side. Mr Hamilton walked the registrar through how to feel the difference (and it actually involves being gentle - as opposed to her quite firm previous efforts), and my hear rate is now back to normal and all is right with the world.
I was then asked if I was still being seen by Mr Morrissey - yes I am on a 4 monthly cycle. Then the bolt from the blue. Mr Hamilton decides that as I'm being seen by Mr Morrisey, he doesn't see the need for me to attend 2 clinics, so he is going to discharge me, effectively into Mr Morrissey's care. If Mr Morrissey has any issues, he'll just enlist Mr Hamilton as required.
Blow me down with a feather. I went hoping for a 6 monthly oncology clinic cycle, and instead came away with an oncology discharge. I think you could safely say that I was mildly pleased with that outcome.
Yesterday ended up being not only a lovely day weather-wise, but also a damn good day on the path to that final confirmation I've beaten the bugger.
Over the last few clinics I have become more relaxed about it all. not complacent by any means, but certainly not getting stressed about it like I used to. The "shrinkage" down to a Gang of One helped as well.
An early good sign was things were running slightly ahead of schedule for a change - I got called in 5 minutes early. It was however with an Oncology Registrar I'd never met before. No probs, does it really matter who asks the questions and has the obligatory feel around my neck? Of course note. The danger signs however came when she was still poking and prodding after 5 minutes. That doesn't normally happen. Then she decided to consult her PC and dragged up images of the human neck that she looked at intently for a while, before coming back and feeling my neck some more. Then a quick read through my file and she decides she needs to consult with Mr Hamilton. I've now been in there for some 20 minutes, which easily surpasses the normal 5-10 I've become accustomed to, and I've not had any "scares" for a damn long time.
What seemed like an eternity, but was in fact 3-4 minutes passed before they came back in the room. It's amazing how your mind can develop the worst possible scenarios in a short space of time, and believe me, I was already thinking about chemo again.
Mr Hamilton proceeds to have his little poke and prod and declares there is nothing abnormal. It seems my hyoid bone on the left side of my neck has scar tissue around it from the treatment, so it appears abnormal when compared to the other side. Mr Hamilton walked the registrar through how to feel the difference (and it actually involves being gentle - as opposed to her quite firm previous efforts), and my hear rate is now back to normal and all is right with the world.
I was then asked if I was still being seen by Mr Morrissey - yes I am on a 4 monthly cycle. Then the bolt from the blue. Mr Hamilton decides that as I'm being seen by Mr Morrisey, he doesn't see the need for me to attend 2 clinics, so he is going to discharge me, effectively into Mr Morrissey's care. If Mr Morrissey has any issues, he'll just enlist Mr Hamilton as required.
Blow me down with a feather. I went hoping for a 6 monthly oncology clinic cycle, and instead came away with an oncology discharge. I think you could safely say that I was mildly pleased with that outcome.
Yesterday ended up being not only a lovely day weather-wise, but also a damn good day on the path to that final confirmation I've beaten the bugger.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Happy 2nd Rebirthday
August 16th was the 2nd anniversary of the completion of my treatment, and arguably the start of my new life.
Over the last two years, lost of things have changed and others have almost returned to pre-treatment states, and as I've said before, I have to think quite hard to remember the details of the effects the treatment had on me, so it has been invaluable to have this blog to look back on.
I don't think I'm being morbid, but I think part of keeping myself grounded and maintaining the commitments I made myself, it is important not to forget what I've been through.
The reason I raise this now is I've been pondering whether it is time to stop actually writing the blog (the posts have indeed become quite well spaced out now time-wise), but for every argument to do so, I keep coming back to the internal need to ensure my full story is recorded.
So, sorry, you'll have to put up with these for a bit longer yet.
The 16th was marked by my work colleagues giving me a "Happy Rebirthday Russell" cake, and apart from that it was just another day. In 2010, I honestly wondered if I'd ever have a "normal" day again and it would indeed appear that time is a good healer.
At times I still get a tad frustrated with having to always carry a water bottle and drinking copious amounts of water at meal times to compensate for the missing saliva There are other times when I would really like to have a serious drinking session without the saliva / dry throat curtailing it after only a couple of drinks. But, these are the hands I've been dealt, and they are considerably better than others have had to endure, so overall I'm just going to roll with it and continue taking each day as it comes.
Life's too short to sweat the small stuff, so bring on summer as I'm really looking forward to doing some landscaping, etc on the new section.
Over the last two years, lost of things have changed and others have almost returned to pre-treatment states, and as I've said before, I have to think quite hard to remember the details of the effects the treatment had on me, so it has been invaluable to have this blog to look back on.
I don't think I'm being morbid, but I think part of keeping myself grounded and maintaining the commitments I made myself, it is important not to forget what I've been through.
The reason I raise this now is I've been pondering whether it is time to stop actually writing the blog (the posts have indeed become quite well spaced out now time-wise), but for every argument to do so, I keep coming back to the internal need to ensure my full story is recorded.
So, sorry, you'll have to put up with these for a bit longer yet.
The 16th was marked by my work colleagues giving me a "Happy Rebirthday Russell" cake, and apart from that it was just another day. In 2010, I honestly wondered if I'd ever have a "normal" day again and it would indeed appear that time is a good healer.
At times I still get a tad frustrated with having to always carry a water bottle and drinking copious amounts of water at meal times to compensate for the missing saliva There are other times when I would really like to have a serious drinking session without the saliva / dry throat curtailing it after only a couple of drinks. But, these are the hands I've been dealt, and they are considerably better than others have had to endure, so overall I'm just going to roll with it and continue taking each day as it comes.
Life's too short to sweat the small stuff, so bring on summer as I'm really looking forward to doing some landscaping, etc on the new section.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Comings & Goings
Over the course of my journey I've been lucky that, by in large, my medical "umbrella" has been consistent. Looking back, it was really only the district nurses that have been "swapped out". That has now changed.
Over the last 15 months or so I've been having regular treatment at the osteopath to try and restore some movement in my neck (to overcome the scarring done by the radiotherapy). My therapist has been Melissa, but from next week it will be Sanjay I see. Melissa has moved to Auckland with her partner, so now I'll need to establish a "relationship" with Sanjay and I'm seriously thinking it might not be worth the effort. No disrespect to Sanjay (I haven't even met him yet), but I'm not sure I can be bothered starting all over again,and I'm wondering just what can be achieved by continuing to go for this treatment.
I've got considerable movement back in my neck, but there hasn't been any noticeable new improvement for a little while now. So, is it time to cut the tie? I'll give Sanjay a go, but think the decision is already made.
You'll all be aware of my Gang of Seven (the group of specialists & support team that I see at each clinic appointment). As previously discussed, my last clinic was actually a gang of one - only Mr Hamilton was there. Again, he represents continuity from day 1, but there is another specialist who I've seen periodically, and that is Mr Morrissey - the ENT man who performed the biopsy & confirmed the initial diagnosis.
I've seen Mr Morrissey maybe once every six months or so, and that has normally been somewhere in-between the normal clinics. Given I only saw Mr Hamilton in June, it was with some concern that a couple of weeks ago I got a letter advising an appointment with Mr Morrissey for today. I now admit that I didn't really acknowledge in my mind the previous appointments I've had with him, had I done so, I wouldn't have given today's visit a second thought.
Anyhow, today amounted to another hearing test (basically unchanged from the last one) and then a quick (I mean quick) appointment with Mr Morrissey himself. All good as far as he is concerned, so that is always good to hear, and as the last 2 hearing tests have been the same, won't need to do them again for a while. Seems I'll now be on a regular cycle of appointments with him as well (next one will be 4 months).
It was his comments about the future that were quite interesting. Seems that 5 years remains the timeframe where it is deemed I have beaten this thing. At 2 years (August 16th is my re-birthday), the fact there are no signs of the rotten sod trying to make a comeback is good. Seems if there is going to be a repeat attack, they normally occur earlier rather than later, so the more time that passes with a clean bill from the experts, the less likely it is that any of us will have to endure the agony of fighting the bugger again.
So, Melissa has gone and Mr Morrissey has come into the fold of regular visits. Just when things appeared all settled, somebody throws the dice, and you know what, I don't think there is really anything wrong with that. It stops complacency setting in.
Over the last 15 months or so I've been having regular treatment at the osteopath to try and restore some movement in my neck (to overcome the scarring done by the radiotherapy). My therapist has been Melissa, but from next week it will be Sanjay I see. Melissa has moved to Auckland with her partner, so now I'll need to establish a "relationship" with Sanjay and I'm seriously thinking it might not be worth the effort. No disrespect to Sanjay (I haven't even met him yet), but I'm not sure I can be bothered starting all over again,and I'm wondering just what can be achieved by continuing to go for this treatment.
I've got considerable movement back in my neck, but there hasn't been any noticeable new improvement for a little while now. So, is it time to cut the tie? I'll give Sanjay a go, but think the decision is already made.
You'll all be aware of my Gang of Seven (the group of specialists & support team that I see at each clinic appointment). As previously discussed, my last clinic was actually a gang of one - only Mr Hamilton was there. Again, he represents continuity from day 1, but there is another specialist who I've seen periodically, and that is Mr Morrissey - the ENT man who performed the biopsy & confirmed the initial diagnosis.
I've seen Mr Morrissey maybe once every six months or so, and that has normally been somewhere in-between the normal clinics. Given I only saw Mr Hamilton in June, it was with some concern that a couple of weeks ago I got a letter advising an appointment with Mr Morrissey for today. I now admit that I didn't really acknowledge in my mind the previous appointments I've had with him, had I done so, I wouldn't have given today's visit a second thought.
Anyhow, today amounted to another hearing test (basically unchanged from the last one) and then a quick (I mean quick) appointment with Mr Morrissey himself. All good as far as he is concerned, so that is always good to hear, and as the last 2 hearing tests have been the same, won't need to do them again for a while. Seems I'll now be on a regular cycle of appointments with him as well (next one will be 4 months).
It was his comments about the future that were quite interesting. Seems that 5 years remains the timeframe where it is deemed I have beaten this thing. At 2 years (August 16th is my re-birthday), the fact there are no signs of the rotten sod trying to make a comeback is good. Seems if there is going to be a repeat attack, they normally occur earlier rather than later, so the more time that passes with a clean bill from the experts, the less likely it is that any of us will have to endure the agony of fighting the bugger again.
So, Melissa has gone and Mr Morrissey has come into the fold of regular visits. Just when things appeared all settled, somebody throws the dice, and you know what, I don't think there is really anything wrong with that. It stops complacency setting in.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Housekeeping
Over the six weeks since my last post, a lot of things have happened, and you could almost argue things have returned to normal.
Work is very busy with the end of financial year, budgets and the seemingly never ending array of "special projects" that keep surfacing to challenge an already hectic schedule.
Home life has also been busy with my rekindled relationship leading to a blending of households over the last couple of weeks.
Couple all of that with the health side of things being pretty much on an even keel, and it appears real normality has finally returned, so time for me to do some housekeeping and bring the blog up to date.
On the 20th of June, I had a medical day - dentist, doctor and clinic all on the same day. The dentist was for my annual check-up, and disappointingly, the x-rays revealed I need a couple of fillings. Given before the cancer I rarely had fillings, this now recurring pattern of every visit = fillings is starting to get a tad tedious. Yes, I accept it is a small price to pay in the overall scheme of still being alive, but it is just plain annoying. (It seems there is a 3rd cavity to be sorted out now - lucky me!)
The Doctor's visit was to address 3 things - ongoing heartburn, clarify the "virus activates cancer" statement from the after-hours visit and my "deformed" RH little finger. Firstly, Tatiana was gobsmacked with the notion a virus would have any impact on re-activating the cancer. Seems it is a load of bollocks, in fact some tests have shown that introducing a virus can actually attack the cancer. That said, apparently there were some other nasty side effects, so we'll just stop there. The heartburn has been addressed by adding Omeprazole (losec) to my daily routine. I was taking it during treatment for the same sort of reason, so taking it with my thyroxine each morning is no hardship. After a week, it is indeed having the desired effect. The deformity on my little finger (the top knuckle is bent in at quite an angle) is apparently arthritis - great, something else to look forward to. Apparently we can enlist some drugs to manage it if it becomes a real issue, in the meantime, I just need to wear gloves in coldish weather to minimise the discomfort.
The Clinic was the highlight of the day. I confess that I was still a little apprehensive leading up to it, although probably less so than on previous occasions. This visit was to be different for a whole lot of other reasons. Firstly, it was earlier in the day, so was the first time I've gone to clinic on my own. Secondly, it was in general outpatients, whereas all the others have been in the plastics outpatients. I went to my normal "venue" only to be sent off elsewhere - might pay me to actually read the appointment letter next time. Thirdly, the Gang of Seven became a Gang of One - Mr Hamilton was on his own. That meant less prodding than usual, and he was actually really pleased with the look he got down my throat, even saying it was the best he's ever had (given the gag reflex kicked in, that surprised me, but I'll take it). The clincher though was that my next appointment will be in four months time (normally every 3 months) and if everything continues to look as it is, they'll be pushed out to six monthly.
That is the breakthrough I've been waiting for. A definitive statement that the cancer is no longer a threat. It is now almost 2 years since treatment finished (August 16th), but with quarterly clinics still on the agenda, it's been hard to accept deep down that things are OK.
And to round it all out, I can now actually eat a pie, albeit occasionally - although experience has shown that finding a "good" pie is pretty damn hard to do as most of them are full of the fillers that make them somewhat of a gluggy mess. On more than one occasion, I've thrown a pie away after one bite because it was just too stodgy. Despite obviously relaxing my eating habits a bit (we all know pies aren't exactly healthy), and the exercise routines being in a bit of a winter hiatus, my weight is remaining static, which is a pleasant surprise.
There we are, all caught up again.
Work is very busy with the end of financial year, budgets and the seemingly never ending array of "special projects" that keep surfacing to challenge an already hectic schedule.
Home life has also been busy with my rekindled relationship leading to a blending of households over the last couple of weeks.
Couple all of that with the health side of things being pretty much on an even keel, and it appears real normality has finally returned, so time for me to do some housekeeping and bring the blog up to date.
On the 20th of June, I had a medical day - dentist, doctor and clinic all on the same day. The dentist was for my annual check-up, and disappointingly, the x-rays revealed I need a couple of fillings. Given before the cancer I rarely had fillings, this now recurring pattern of every visit = fillings is starting to get a tad tedious. Yes, I accept it is a small price to pay in the overall scheme of still being alive, but it is just plain annoying. (It seems there is a 3rd cavity to be sorted out now - lucky me!)
The Doctor's visit was to address 3 things - ongoing heartburn, clarify the "virus activates cancer" statement from the after-hours visit and my "deformed" RH little finger. Firstly, Tatiana was gobsmacked with the notion a virus would have any impact on re-activating the cancer. Seems it is a load of bollocks, in fact some tests have shown that introducing a virus can actually attack the cancer. That said, apparently there were some other nasty side effects, so we'll just stop there. The heartburn has been addressed by adding Omeprazole (losec) to my daily routine. I was taking it during treatment for the same sort of reason, so taking it with my thyroxine each morning is no hardship. After a week, it is indeed having the desired effect. The deformity on my little finger (the top knuckle is bent in at quite an angle) is apparently arthritis - great, something else to look forward to. Apparently we can enlist some drugs to manage it if it becomes a real issue, in the meantime, I just need to wear gloves in coldish weather to minimise the discomfort.
The Clinic was the highlight of the day. I confess that I was still a little apprehensive leading up to it, although probably less so than on previous occasions. This visit was to be different for a whole lot of other reasons. Firstly, it was earlier in the day, so was the first time I've gone to clinic on my own. Secondly, it was in general outpatients, whereas all the others have been in the plastics outpatients. I went to my normal "venue" only to be sent off elsewhere - might pay me to actually read the appointment letter next time. Thirdly, the Gang of Seven became a Gang of One - Mr Hamilton was on his own. That meant less prodding than usual, and he was actually really pleased with the look he got down my throat, even saying it was the best he's ever had (given the gag reflex kicked in, that surprised me, but I'll take it). The clincher though was that my next appointment will be in four months time (normally every 3 months) and if everything continues to look as it is, they'll be pushed out to six monthly.
That is the breakthrough I've been waiting for. A definitive statement that the cancer is no longer a threat. It is now almost 2 years since treatment finished (August 16th), but with quarterly clinics still on the agenda, it's been hard to accept deep down that things are OK.
And to round it all out, I can now actually eat a pie, albeit occasionally - although experience has shown that finding a "good" pie is pretty damn hard to do as most of them are full of the fillers that make them somewhat of a gluggy mess. On more than one occasion, I've thrown a pie away after one bite because it was just too stodgy. Despite obviously relaxing my eating habits a bit (we all know pies aren't exactly healthy), and the exercise routines being in a bit of a winter hiatus, my weight is remaining static, which is a pleasant surprise.
There we are, all caught up again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)