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July 2010

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Cancer has run out of steam and now it is time to get back on track.  I have some doubts about recovery:  the scans are good news, the blood tests are great; but it is optimistic to suggest that all is forgiven.  Strange symptoms linger while life goes on.

Why am I so tired?  On the day you get positive cancer results you would think you would get your energy back.  No, I’m still as exhausted the month after the ‘good news’ as I was the month before.  The only difference is that most people don’t expect that I will be tired, and want to celebrate when all I want is to sleep.

Why does hair grow back in unwanted places first? Facial hair first, hair on the legs all in place, hair on head reappearing very very slowly.

Does your body remember the nausea?  It seems to visit from time to time like an old friend who doesn’t want to be forgotten.

Why didn’t the treatment get rid of all the medical problems I had before cancer?  Still have asthma, incontinence, attacks of diarrhoea, muscle pains, arthritis, migraines.  You’d think that those ‘state of the art’ drugs would kill everything.

Is every physical symptom due to cancer? Is every bump malignant? If no, what do you do then? Worry.

If you are cancer free why are you always in an oncologist’s office? Checking, checking, checking; it’s enough to make you ill.

If you have been bedridden or hospitalized for a long time and are lucky enough to have NHS or private health insurance, why aren’t you rich?  It remains a mystery to me.  Maybe you were so out of it on the chemo cocktail that you just dropped your money on the street.  Check bank account:  assuming death was imminent, perhaps you gave all your money to your children (the King Lear symptom).

AND as long as you could use your computer you might have shopped on the Internet while comatose.

Why do you still have to pay taxes?  After a few years of cancer you’d think you might be given a tax rebate.  No, instead you are faced with new tax laws that slipped in while you were too sick to care and it’s back to form filling and accountants.

And the will you wrote when you were foggy from chemo, and thought the end was coming…  now review it in the light of your maybe being around for a while. (Did I mean that??)

Did you give yourself a well-deserved break from the dentist because nurses were prodding you enough?  It seems unfair to have to go back.

Since your treatment has been successful you may feel a wave of generosity and would like to support a cancer charity.  Would you like to run a marathon, jump on a trampoline, walk across a desert, climb Kilimanjaro? NO! Well, maybe someone will sponsor you for getting up in the morning and crawling to the bathroom.

While you have been using a limited comfy wardrobe of loose clothes your dress up clothes have been hanging in the closet. They must be ready to wear now that you are ‘well’.  Not likely, your body has no doubt changed due to surgery or weight gain (usually a matter of gaining not losing) The diseases that make you lose weight are never part of an overweight person’s repertoire. And even if they still fit, the clothes in the wardrobe have gone out of style.

So here I am, in remission but left with all the health problems I had before.  Financial problems are still the same. Taxes still have to be paid, and life goes on much the same as before cancer, but I am left with a chemo brain and residual exhaustion to tackle it.  It isn’t fair, but whoever said life was fair?

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Whatever has worked, whether hocus pocus or not, my cancer has been put into a deep, hypnotic sleep – please don’t wake it.

A month ago I had an MRI scan to find out if the treatment for stage 4 breast cancer had worked.  After operations, radiation and chemo, the scan showed that a lot of my cancer had gone, but there remained a few cancer cells which were most likely inoperable and difficult to radiate because they were embedded in nerve tissue.

After fifteen years with cancers coming and going, I knew the rubric.  With the prospect of ‘no more treatment’, it was time to check on my will and make funeral arrangements.  I visited my surgeon and tried to cheer up my oncologist and friends, but in my heart I thought I knew.  Further surgery was unlikely and radiation with a cyber knife, which was mentioned, was one new fangled invention too many.

My oncologist and surgeon recommended a CT/PET scan. Too optimistic, I thought. In my negative frame of mind I thought only fleetingly about the effects of radiation from the scan (see last blog) – I wasn’t going to be around anyway.

But the hocus pocus machine must have magically transformed my negative energy into positive. My oncologist was disbelieving when she called to say my cancer was inactive.  I ran to her office in fear she might have got it wrong.  Neither she nor I believe in magic, and she methodically checked with the technicians and pathologist to see if the machine was broken on the day or if the pathologist who had read the scan had forgot his glasses.  All confirmed to her that the cancer was inactive.  I think we were both in shock.

I began to tell my friends and they all asked, ‘Why? What had happened between the MRI and the PET/CT scan?’  The answer is, I have no idea.

Please cast your vote.  You can put money on any or all of the following:

My negative attitude

During that time I was reading a book called ‘Final Exit’, and listening on line to lectures on death from the philosophy department at Yale University.  Being negative always puts me in a good mood.

Moxibustion

Who cares if it works or not?   It is such a great word.

I started this around the time of the first scan.   Walking up the circular stairs of the Kite clinic on New Bond Street felt like going to a high price cosmetic surgery clinic.  Gerard Kite uses a form of acupuncture in which magic moxi is made into heated candles and are placed one at a time on various acupuncture points.  After the moxi is in place, a few needles follow, which penetrate the skin and feel a bit painful for a second or two.  The whole thing takes only a few minutes but it did give me energy and who knows what else.  I had about ten sessions between scans. I had put off going because the expense seemed too high but I decided the hell with the money, I wasn’t going to take it with me.  I think it had done me a world of good.

The magic substance – Orgonite

My friend Martin Sexton, an artist, put Orgonite all over my bedroom.  He takes this very seriously.  It is a substance devised by Wilhelm Reich, a psychiatrist who worked with Freud until he went off in his own mad direction.  He believed that he could harness the energy of the orgasm in a material made of resin, white quartz, rose quartz, and aluminum.  He made cylindrical tablets that were full of magic properties.

Martin’s tablets were made in the shape of Silbury Hill. He bathed the tablets in Chalice Well at Glastonbury, in both the red spring and the white spring;  shallow buried and retrieved them on Glastonbury Tor; placed them at the other sacred places of Wyvern Hill, Chalice Hill, Gog Magog Oaks, and Stonehenge, and then finally placed them on the erect phallus of the Cerne Abbas Giant.

They have sat on the windowsill near my bed during the time between scans and who knows?

The summer solstice

The PET scan did happen on the day of the solstice; maybe the druids intervened?

Prayers for the atheist

I do appreciate it when friends and people I don’t even know send me prayers.  I do have a close friend in Australia who is a minister for the Church of England. He said he wanted to pray for me but he needed me to be specific.  What exactly did I want him to pray for?  I hope I said something relevant because I like the idea of being specific.

The shaman – the doctors

To give them their due, the doctors worked hard to get these results.  At times their work seems more on the side of magic than science.  Dr Margaret Spittle, my oncologist for fifteen years, planned my treatment with the aim to get rid of the cancer (a stage 3 solution) rather than watch it grow and take over (stage 4).  She planned the operations, radiation treatments and chemotherapy.  I can’t say that I always had faith or thought positive things about her.  It has been a difficult two years.

The fight with cancer is no doubt not over, but for now,

Ssh, Ssh, the baby is sleeping…

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