Half way to half way

So off we went back to Burnley for chemo 3 like a pair of seasoned pros. Chris is getting quite good at the chemo lingo and I'm getting quite good at remembering the lunch options. I'd noticed the previous couple of weeks that, though I'd slept in the afternoon after the treatments, I'd been awake quite a bit during the night. The Piriton part of the pre-meds knocks me out so forcing myself to stay awake isn't really an option. But Tuesday nights were starting to feel long and challenging. So we decided to try something different- having a nap on the sofa and staying downstairs until bedtime. So we lit the fire before we set off and checked what time 'Escape to the Country' was on- our perfect afternoon indulgence!


The cannula was fitted easily and I was settled in the chemo room by the lovely mural view before we knew it. The pre-meds were put in the drip and I was waiting for the Piriton and the tiredness it brings. However, I started to feel drowsy straight away and told myself this must all be in my head until I realised we were ready for the chemo and the Piriton had gone in without me being aware. So the tiredness is far from in my head. Its a weird sensation- not unpleasant but resisting and trying to concentrate on anything is futile. As my appointment was a bit later than previous weeks, I was given lunch as soon as the chemo was set up. It was a strange sensation sitting eating soup and a sandwich with poison trickling into my veins. So I set about inserting a bit of woowoo into the proceedings, Reikied the drip and visualised the chemo as a beautiful golden light lolloping around my body zapping dodgy cells Pac-Man style. This light works in league with my millions of healthy cells to keep me well. My chemo experience was complete when Chris found a stash of Club biscuits and I drifted off to sleep humming a strange little medley of 'If you like a lot of chocolate on your biscuit join our club' and 'Every little cell in my body is happy...!'





We got home in time to get the compulsory post-chemo toasted teacakes ready just in time to watch a couple who wanted to relocate to Wales find their perfect home. With the bonus of some rather special Ginger biscuits- a gift from a lovely Hubbit.


The change in routine worked and I had a much better night, waking to a rather beautiful sunrise on Wednesday. One of my lessons in this journey is accepting the need to rest before I feel the need to rest. So Wednesday was a designated rest day with a trip over to The Sanctuary for a Theragem treatment. I'm conscious of the need to boost my immunity and help my white blood cells and the treatments available at The Sanctuary feel right. To be honest, I've not read up on the details of the treatments but intuitively it feels right and I trust Tony's wisdom and the lovely folks who are supporting me there. Wednesday night was another evening by the fire followed by a really good night's sleep. Thursday was a Hub day with Meditation at lunchtime, Drumming in the afternoon, soup at teatime and an introductory Astrology talk in the evening and OK, so I may have nodded off during the talk but it was a good day! Friday I went over and played at our lunchtime Full Moon Gong Bath before another afternoon at The Sanctuary. I worked Saturday as we ran a Vision Board Workshop but rested Sunday. And this alternating doing stuff with rest days seems to be working. There's a logic to it really on an energetic level. I mean I don't let my van completely run out of petrol before topping it up do I? So why would I do that with my body?

So, lots of rest by the fire and that vital non-prescription medication of toasted teacakes!
One of the benefits of rest time is having space to just observe what is going on within me as well as around me. It would do me no good whatsoever to analyse every physical symptom and feeling and I have no need or desire to get caught up in discussing the medical stuff. In fact, other than writing this blog, the medical stuff seldom comes up. Yes, I'll be honest with people when they ask me how I am. One thing I've noticed is that when I say I'm fine (which I mostly am) this is sometimes followed by the question "But how are you really?" No- I really am fine. Some folks are still unconvinced and take Chris off to one side to ask, "But how is she really?" I do realise this is to do with folks' own expectations around cancer and chemotherapy and certainly doesn't need to define my journey.

All in all, things are going well and this has been a good week. I think the balance of knowing what I need to know about the medical stuff without getting stuck in going over and over it is working for me. The holistic accompaniments to the medical stuff are most certainly making a massive difference. Receiving healing from others balanced with taking responsibility for my own wellbeing through rest, self-healing, meditation and time with the awesome Gongs and Drums can definitely not be underestimated. And one massive factor here is the love and support I'm receiving from so many genuine people who make time for me in so many quiet and considerate ways. Not least, through humour and accepting my need for a light hearted dance rather than aggressive battling, smashing or fighting. And I think that 'getting it' response from folks is best summed up in the 'Happy Hats' thing!

Chemo week 4 with Herceptin beckons so off we jolly well go to Burnley again today! Thanks for reading my blog and for the many wonderful messages of support. It really does make such a difference.

Liz x

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Winter of my content

 

Something I've realised since I've been dancing the Chemo Doble is how much fear there is attached to the word 'Chemotherapy'. I had very strong images of that poor Russian chap dying as a result of poison that had no antidote. I softened the image into a big yellow flump and dissolved it in a glass of ginger ale. But I completely get how everyone must have their own equivalent images. And scary it is!

Changing the images in my head helped take away much of the fear. And the reality of the treatment also helped alleviate my concerns. I've been very fortunate to be receiving my treatment in Burnley. Not just because of the excellent care and kindness of the staff, but also because of the physical surroundings.

I was aware of something
vaguely familiar about the main chemo lounge when I was first shown around. However, it took a while for me to realise that the mural is the same as the picture we have in the
Garden Room at The Hub.
What are the chances of that? So I'd started to feel at home before I even realised it. Another thing that helps take away the fear is the clear, straightforward and honest way that the treatment is explained. Yes I was nervous before my first treatment. But the nurse carefully went through every stage of the process from the cannula going in, to it being flushed out at the end.

Perhaps it was the absence of nerves that allowed me to pay more attention at the start of the second treatment. But I realised just how much care is put into protecting me and my healthy cells from the effects of the Paclitaxel. And using the name of the actual drug rather than 'chemotherapy' helps too. Have a play with the word itself- I promise you, there's fun to be had! Before the Paclitaxel, I'm given a mini cocktail of supportive drugs through the cannula. Anti-nausea, stomach protection, Piriton and steroids. That's put paid to my Olympic hopes but small price to pay!

So Chemo day two dawned and off we set for the land of Claret and Blue. I took with me a metaphysical reading book, my 'Fuckity fuck fuck' colouring book (a gift from some of the ladies of the Tuesday evening Meditation group) and a rather chirpy wife. My bloods had come back fine after the first treatment so all was well. My vein was a bit reluctant at first but the cannula went in at the second attempt and we were good to go.  Making our way down to the chemo lounge I was pleased to be able to sit in the same place as before- with a view out of the window and facing the mural. The pre-chemo meds were put through the drip and I started to feel the now familiar Piriton tiredness as Chris regaled me with interesting bits of information from one of the MacMillan booklets. Though I don't think I'll start keeping a fatigue diary any time soon, that's just personal preference. And generally speaking, the quality and abundance of the MacMillan literature is excellent.

The treatment seemed to pass quickly and before I knew it I was plugged into the saline flush-out and began to tuck into my lunch of vegetable soup and cheese sandwiches. The whole treatment took less than two and a half hours and we were on our way home before 1pm. Home to toasted teacakes, a cuppa and an afternoon ninja-nap! Listening to my body and simply resting on treatment day seems the best option for me.  And Chris taking the day off gives her time to rest and gives us both the luxury of a full day together.


So what a dance in the park its all been! Wednesday I rested during the day and felt absolutely marvellous. I went over to The Hub, gave a little 2 week late 'welcome' talk to a course and joined our evening Mantra Chanting Circle. I felt so well and had a wonderful evening. The power of the Mantra interspersed with grounded good humour and the undeniable love of the group were very special. And all underneath that gorgeous Bluebell Forest! We were home and tucked up in bed for 10.30pm and I drifted into a blissful sleep!

But this really isn't a dance in the park and when the grim bits come, they come with a vengeance! If the constipation caused by the post-op painkillers was bad, that caused by chemo is like someone spraying dry ice up your rectum and freezing your colon solid. Now there's an image! I woke in the night with stomach cramps and spent far too long in the bathroom doing sudukos. And no, that isn't a euphemism! You know that thing when you've been sat on the toilet for so long that your legs go numb? Well I had that too as I made my way back to bed walking like one of the extras in the 'Thriller' dance video. I'd like to say I woke up feeling great but I didn't. At this point, if chemotherapy were a dance, I'd have to say it would be the Cango! Waves of nausea and stomach cramps were just too much as constipation gave way to diarrhoea, so I gave up all thoughts of my lovely Hub Thursday afternoon and went back to bed with a hot water bottle to concentrate on getting right for the evening. And fortunately I was able to complete the MBSR course with week 8 being a lovely final session of confirmation of just how awesome and life-enhancing this course really is.

We had a rather lovely yet busy weekend ahead of us but I was still feeling grim on Friday morning. I decided to phone the chemo unit as they have a 'Help' number we can call for advice. Before long I was talking with one of the Sisters who explained the meds that my stomach was reacting to and advised me to try Buscapan. Chris went out to the chemist for me before she went over to The Hub and I took the first tablet at midday. I woke after an afternoon nap feeling so much better. The mix of understanding what had been happening to me and medication made such a difference and I felt well and able to be to play at the Temple Gong Meditation in the evening.

The thing about doing energy healing work is remembering to do it! And I realised I'd become so focused on physical symptoms that I'd allowed myself to be distracted from the stuff that I know works. The new meds and lots of rest on Saturday morning saw me feeling really well and ready for Saturday's Community Sound event. A beautiful evening surrounded by positive people and sharing Drumming, Chanting and the Gongs. By the end of the night I felt wonderful. A bit tired physically but no symptoms- and no inclination to go rooting round looking for any either! A good night's sleep had me raring to go for Sunday's Retreat Day at The Hub. Once again I was surrounded by positivity and shared Meditation, Drumming, Chanting and the Gongs. We then finished the weekend off with the Accrington Gong Bath- during which I had a real awareness of the build-up effect of Sound therapy. From feeling great after Mantra on Wednesday I had allowed myself to slip into focussing on physical symptoms. Friday's Gongs lifted my mood and wellbeing. This was consolidated by Saturday's Sound event then more so by Sunday's positivity and more energy stuff. I know what works but commitment and effort is required with energy stuff, it not just 'Izzy wizzy lets get busy' and floating off on the back of a unicorn to Atlantis. No pain no gain, no effort no reward! 

The fact of the matter is that I don't have a choice about some of the symptoms and physical reactions I experience. I'm having poison pumped into me once a week to nuke some dodgy cells for fecks sake. There'd be something wrong if my body didn't say 'ay up, what's to do?' every now and then. However, what this past week has reminded me of is that I do have a choice about how I respond to the reactions! I can chose to sit and analyse every physical twinge and gripe. Or I can accept that this is all par for the course and keep my focus on wellness and positivity. And I'm so grateful for having the convincer of this weekend that gave me the intensity and undeniable build-up effect of the benefits of Sound.

There is a quite unique sensation after a Sound Bath. Its a deep relaxation where the physical body feels heavy yet the vibration continues to work at a cellular level. This is magnified by actually playing the Gongs. And, to put it bluntly, four sound baths in three days left me vibrationally off my tits! I slept well and woke with a calm stillness that remained unshaken despite the best efforts of two cats who decided to re-enact Passchendale, with my body as the no-mans-land in between their trenches. 

Monday is blood test day so a trip over to Burnley was my start to the morning. Then I met up with an old friend for lunch before having some treatment at The Sanctuary of Healing. Genuine, supportive friends and energy healing. This really does make such a difference and is certainly my best way forward as I approach the quarter-way-through stage of chemo- 'Chemo 3- just when you thought it was safe to go back to Burnley!'.

So, some grim bits this week, but lots of positivity and shed loads of humour. Chris and I laugh a lot- mostly at each other it has to be said. But we've received so much support, encouragement and kindness from friends. Those reading this who follow my Facebook posts will know my current daily gratitude post is called #111happyhats. This has an accompanying 'hat of the day' and we have received an abundance of hats and headwear, sometimes through the post and anonymously. This delightful ensemble was one such gift. When the sender came forward she explained she'd sent it because "I wanted you to know I am thinking of you but know you wouldn't want any soppy shit!" And folks like her who really get me and the way I need to dance this dance really do make such a difference.

I'm very aware of my need to balance resting and sleep with doing the stuff that helps me heal and stay well throughout treatment. I don't always find it easy to do no thing. But I'm learning! In fact, if the truth be known, I'm starting to enjoy the luxury of rest. I remember my Mum pottering round the house doing a bit of tidying here and a bit of cleaning there and generally keeping on top of things. And I'm finding myself doing just that and thoroughly enjoying it. I'm also aware that as I rest and go within, new learning and old knowledge are gestating into ideas for the future. Not much is visible above ground just now, but the fertile nurturing space that I inhabit is allowing ideas to germinate. And I am happy and contented to just let this be. In fact, I think its fair to say that this is very much my 'Winter of content' and I'm really rather happy!

                                                                                     Liz x

 

Strictly Chemo!

Well its been a funny old week since my first chemo treatment. The spectrum has ranged from 'Wow, I cant believe how great I feel!' to 'fuckinell I never thought it would be like this!' The one consistent bit of advice from all directions has been that reaction to treatment is unique and individual so expect nothing! And I have found releasing all expectations to be truly liberating this week. During the less than fluffy bunny moments, there is, of course, the temptation to identify with being 'ill' and look for symptoms. The danger here is that I'll limit myself and rule out the possibility that, at times, I will feel absolutely wonderful. (And enjoy everything during those times with an appreciation and gratitude that only transience brings). I felt fine on Wednesday morning so Chris and I went out to do a couple of jobs to help make home more homely. We've recently had some decorating done and needed to finish off some bits and pieces so off we went to have a look at carpets. Having a look turned into ordering and fitting was booked for the day after. Next we went to look for a second hand sofa. This is something we do approximately every 18 months on account of sharing our lives with a Patterdale Terrier. In fairness, she's got better and its taken her the full 18 months to gnaw one arm off this time. Anyway, a trip to a couple of charity shops found us an absolute bargain that is just perfect for our kitchen- which is the room we tend to live in in the Winter. And they could deliver the following day. We came home and ate toasted teacakes, lit the fire in the front room and I spent the remainder of Wednesday resting.

Thursday was a busy morning as the carpet fitters, sofa delivery folks and the postman arrived at the same time. It was all a bit frenetic but worth it to see such a difference at home. And I set off for sanctuary The Hub leaving Chris to start sawing up the old sofa. Its not just the firewood we've gained that motivated us to do this. The sheer joy in knowing we've avoided paying Blackburn with Darwen Council £20 to collect it was so worth the blisters caused by sawing!



I had a lovely afternoon at The Hub- Relaxation and Meditation Group, Drumming Circle and catching up with lots of folks before the evening Mindfulness course. I wont pretend I wasn't 
tired by home time but what a fantastic group this is and I feel honoured to facilitate these sessions. And there's always a solution- we decided to leave the van and Chris gave me a lift home. Straight to bed and Friday was a rest day where I did very little. Proper flat out, knackered resting. I think the only time I've rested like this before in my life has been on days following running a marathon, after receiving a bit of a battering on the football pitch or when I've been suffering from a severe handover.

Friday night brought a rather lovely evening of Sound Meditation at The Dojo- 'East meets West'. Paul worked hard all day to make sure The Dojo was at its best and walking into the building I felt a sensation that can only be described as Joy. Gone was the footprint of sadness I'd sensed earlier in the year. The glowing fire, twinkling lights and the sound of the soulful instruments was almost other worldly. And it was one of those beautiful events where people from the different parts of my life came together and this always makes me feel so safe, secure and loved. This truly was an experience of Sound rather than performance. An ego-free and genuinely healing experience. And for me, a reminder of why we do what we do.

It was very special to share the Gongs in this space. It was the first time I'd played in a while and Pluto really sang and wrapped me up in the most beautiful Sound and vibration. Chris went off to The Hub to sort the soup towards the end and it felt so right to be sharing the Gongs with my favourite grufty builder who plays with a natural intuition and respect. One of the lovely folks who attended captured this photograph which shows Pluto radiating the healing green of the Gong who battered me for so long and now absolutely feeds my soul.

Waking up to a glorious sunrise, I knew that Saturday was most definitely going to be a rest day! Some years ago a company who make exhibition stands gained planning permission to build an extension. Apparently we didn't have a right to a view and no objection was accepted. This (in my opinion) inappropriate erection does slightly spoil the view from our bedroom window. Part of me would like to jump on the heads of those who granted planning permission. But another part of me is content to wriggle across the bed slightly so I can't see it. Looking in the other direction and nestling between a pylon and a chemical factory, we can see the former mill town of Blackburn. I was reminded, as the Sun shone in through the window, that I have a choice which direction to look in. What I choose to focus on. And on Saturday I had a choice between feeling sorry for myself because I felt grim- or not. And choosing 'not' I allowed myself to reflect on the previous evening and the things we'd done in the house over the last few days. There's a possibility I may have overdone things a bit as my body started to shout at me again. I was quite poorly through the night on Saturday and the only sensible thing was to stay at home, There were some hints of 'poor me' as I wasn't able to go to the Peace Meditation at The Hub or play at our 'Gongs for Peace' event at The Dojo. However, I did have precious time to go within and revisit some of the stuff I've learned and experienced this year. Everything new we come across gives us a seed. And one of the gifts in my current situation is having the time to nurture the fertile ground that allows these seeds to grow.

So, if chemotherapy were a dance, what dance would it be? Without a doubt on some days I feel as though I'm Waltzing through life without a care in the world. Other days bring the challenges of a complex Paso Doble. There are even times when I feel I'm caught up in that dodgy looking Argentinian number where there's always the risk of getting your legs tangled up and falling over!

And all the while I have some wonderful company on this journey. At home with Chris and the Zen beasts and further afield with our wonderful extended family of friends who choose to make the time to walk with me. So very, very appreciated.

I'm just about to set off for Burnley again and after today I've only got ten session of chemotherapy left! How important to focus on the positives and on all that is good. Anything else would be madness!

Liz x

 

Into the forest of chemo...

Sometimes no matter how much positive self-talk we give ourselves, no matter how much we tell ourselves nothing is actually happening, no matter how much we try to change our thoughts, some things are scary. And at times like that all we can do is pull up our Superwoman undergarment-overgarments and walk with grace and power into the storm! And in  doing just that on day one of chemo, I became aware I was, in fact, drawing on that glorious NLP compartment of my toolkit. When we can't change our thoughts or feelings, we always have the option of changing our behaviour to give the internal stuff time to catch up. So I did what makes me feel better- had a bath! A lovely friend has made me a hypno/meditation CD to support me through treatment. And listening to this in the bath that took the edge of my anxiety, made me receptive to the CD. And the CD guides me to the Healing compartment of my toolkit and I so needed to be reminded of this. Nessidog knew I was out of sorts and came to reassure me in that typical Patterdale Terrier "please don't die Mummy Liz, Mummy Chris sometimes forgets to buy me tennis balls" kind of a way. Checking my 'phone, there were so many lovely messages and I was blown away by the kindness of folks who made the time to connect with me on this morning. They knew I needed support and were there for me. That really does mean so much.

Pausing briefly to breathe in the light through the trees, we set off yet again for Burnley. This time we took the scenic route through Rishton. Knowledge gained during Chris's working days of finding the best ways to negotiate the rush hour being put to good use. Once again we parked right outside the unit and checked in on time.

First of all we were taken into another treatment room- this time the lovely peach coloured Primrose Room. The nurse went through with me exactly what was going to happen and fitted the cannula with ease. I'd taken care to keep my hands warm and this seemed to make such a difference. Next we were taken through to the chemo suite. This really is a lovely room. Light, colourful and very calm. I sat opposite the beautiful Bluebell Wood mural. The light shining through the trees, just as the light shone through the trees at home as we were setting off. There were quite a few folks receiving or waiting for treatments but its so relaxed in there and everyone was so quietly friendly.

The nurse came and began my treatment. First I was given some meds through the drip to deal with the effects of the chemo. Anti-nausea meds, steroids, something to protect my stomach and Piriton. This was done with such ease and little fuss and I honestly was relaxed by the time for the chemo.

Without a hint of the flump image, the treatment began. And once again there was such a gift. I had some stuff I needed to process. I'd received a message while waiting for treatment. I was aware of feelings and a reaction coming up. Having the time to just sit and be was such a gift and I was able to see the issue from so many different angles- and completely in perspective. This enabled me to allow a response to emerge and focus on what really matters. Which, as always, was the people at the 
                                                               heart of my thoughts who I love dearly.

I was aware of feeling sleepy and a bit odder than usual. I realised this when I totally messed up a Suduko. How many 7s can you put in one square? So I gave up and drifted off to sleep a few times I think. Chris sat next to me reading a magazine, eating her body weight in ginger biscuits and watching a programme about the bravery of the Fleetwood fishermen during the Second World War. We were in the unit for about three hours. Nothing rushed and that lovely calmness and kindness. I was even offered lunch and really enjoyed the hearty broth and cheese sandwich I was given. Eventually it was time to leave. My legs were a bit wobbly but that's not unusual after cocktails! And I was so looking forward to getting home to bed. However, I have to say, the treatment I received was once again fully explained, reassuring and kind. All fears faded away and my image of the flump disintegrating in a glass of ginger beer was final!

Home to that waiting bed and snuggled up with Nessidog and Dexter I slipped into a blissful sleep. My afternoon after that was punctuated by drinking loads of water and Cranberry Juice. I did feel weird and wobbly. Not quite like being pissed but unsteady and bumping into things. But horizontal was good! And the anti-sickness and other meds were certainly doing their stuff. So, Chemotherapy? Well it wouldn't be in my top ten of fun ways to spend a day. But if I could go to the Edith Watson Unit and not have treatment then that would be a fantastic day out- just being in the peace and calmness!

Treatment one of 12 over and a week to recover before the next lot. Yes, I've got a few aching joints, mainly round the site of the Herceptin injection. And there's some itching but nothing too uncomfortable. And though I've felt a bit nauseous, I've got tablets to take when needed and a mouthwash to take away the strange taste and prevent oral infection.

I wont pretend I'm a good patient. Chris is an absolute angel and really gets my frustration at not being able to do stuff. She dissolves the difficult moments with humour and we both often dissolve into laughter. Truth is, I don't do being ill! But the other truth is I didn't listen when my body whispered to me to slow down and rest. So it shouted and now I'm resting. And the big gift in this? I see time ahead to let ideas gestate. Time to plan some exciting new stuff. Time to do things differently. And most of all, the time to go within that will enable all of the above. Yes, it feels a bit slow and Wintery just now. But Spring will be here before I know it. And there really is so much to look forward to.

Thank-you to the folks who are choosing to read these blogs. I hope they are at least entertaining if not helpful. Thank-you to those of you who have left feedback- here on the blog or on Facebook or more directly. Your positivity and support is more appreciated than you could ever know. 

Liz x  

Gunpowder, Ginger and Herceptin

Though the dying yellow flump image had been sent packing, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a significance in starting treatment on Bonfire Night' though I'll resist any 'going with a bang' references here!

I slept well on Sunday night. Yes I was awake for about an hour from 4.30 but I've perfected the art of Nessidog- proof going within. This involves not opening my eyes when I wake up. I can feel her little eyes burrowing into my head sometimes and that requires a bit of a grunty snore on my part to convince her I'm really still asleep. And then I just spend time strolling around my own inner landscape. Sometimes I go into the silence of nothingness, sometimes I connect with Reiki and send healing Light out to wherever I feel drawn to but just lately I've been on more of an observational path. I seem to wake up with no thoughts. The first time this happened was after my first Gong Puja. A whole night of playing or being in the Sound and vibration of the Gongs. This was at Dev Aura, the House of Light, a beautiful, calm space. I woke next morning with no thoughts in my mind. It was as though potential thoughts were floating just in front of me, to the left, in a menu and I could chose which, if any, to allow into my mind. Yes, that Dev Aura awakening was in the land of WooWoo, but this experience has become more consistent and easily available the more I practice Mindfulness in its wider sense. Anyway, I spent my waking time on Sunday night just watching thoughts appear and pass on by. I used the metaphor of the permanence and clarity of my mind being the clear blue sky of a warm Summers day. Each thought that visited was just a temporary little cloud that either drifted away or evaporated. This process gets easier the more you work with it- alone or, better still, within the energy of a group. Want the peace? Put the work in! So Sunday night was very much the perfect preparation for Monday.

Monday was an early start and we were a bit caught up in traffic. However, with a minute to spare we pulled into a space right outside the Unit and Chris displayed our new parking permit with such a glee. Even with pausing to take a quick photo, we still got to reception on time.



After a short but not unpleasant wait, we were taken down to one of the private treatment/consultation rooms. Lovely lilac walls and matching chairs and a gorgeous Autumn view out of the window. The nurse who was looking after me talked us through the morning ahead. I was given paracetamol as Herceptin can cause a headache and given a bit of time for it to take effect as the syringe warmed up so the injection would be more comfortable. Even I'm getting sick of my 'will I feel a bit of a prick' comment so refrained on this occasion. Instead I just nipped in to the still point at the end of the in-breath and breathed calmly. It was 
harder for Chris (as so much of this journey is) sitting watching a needle being inserted into my leg. Fortunately the entertainment value of noticing my knickers were on inside out took the edge off. Does anyone else do that? What's the point of seams anyway!




After the injection I had to wait on the unit for an hour and a half to make sure I didn't have any reaction- hints of the flump again but a quick 'haha be gone' sorted that out! The larger room where most chemotherapy treatments are administered is really lovely. A beautiful woodland mural with bluebells and the morning sun peeping through those trees that grow tall in the heart of the forest.
The chairs are comfy, there's a TV on silent with subtitles and, best of all, we were introduced to the kettle and told to help ourselves to hot drinks and biscuits. This is very much The Hub way- folks will feel so much more at home if they know they can make themselves a cuppa whenever they want to. Our only disappointment was that 'Escape to the Country' wasn't on but instead we half watched that programme where a red and a blue team are given money and try to beat each other by being the ones to make most profit by buying tat at a market and selling it later at auction. I think if we went on it we'd buy a cup of tea, auction the polystyrene cup as 'once used by Elvis to balance a burger on' and make a killing! Even if the cup didn't sell we'd probably still win. Our £299.50 left over after the cuppa would be more than the other team made from buying ancient chamber pots and antique jewellery that turned out to be from Taiwan and made in 2014.

During our stay we had several cuppas and scoffed our way through a fair few medicinal ginger biscuits. We were even offered lunch but it was nearly time for us to acknowledge I'd survived and set off home. 

An easy drive back along the motorway and a bit of lunch- just had to be Heinz Tomato soup! Then I went off to bed as I was feeling tired and a bit odder than usual. Chris went over to The Hub later and I spent time just being really. I couple of Sudokus, a bit of reading, lots of snoozing and then a healthy, hearty veggie stew when Chris came home.

Credit must go to our beasties for their cuddles and attention throughout this day. The ever distant but watchful Ella, Nessidog of course, the hero who is Dexter and an occasional brief visit from Nellie (she is plotting something on the allotment. No idea what but she's down there a lot. I'm hoping its a pagoda with a little walled herb garden and a pond).  One of our little family seems to have a new role as 'Chemo Cat' as Bella-Betty is never far away these days, much to Nessidog and Dexter's annoyance. The dynamics between them is fascinating. But their unconditional acceptance and love for us is unquestionable.

All in all a rather good day. Tuesday, with Chemo proper starting, loomed on the horizon but our time on the unit for the Herceptin left us even more reassured than before that all would be well.

Liz x

 

 
 

The good thing about chemotherapy....

It was almost dark by the time we set off for The Lakes. The M6 was quiet and we arrived at the campsite around 7pm. Its a small site- recommended by the Caravan and Camping Club but privately owned. As we pitched up by torch light we could see very little. However, there was electricity and water right by the van and we had all we needed as we settled down for supper and a relaxing evening. I was delighted to wake up next morning and find we were surrounded by woodland. It was so good to step out of the van and into the trees and breathe in that beautiful forest air.

We had spent much of the previous evening talking through what I'd been told at the hospital and that continued into Saturday. Chris and I individually completed the 'Balance and Perspective' worksheets I recently put together for the MBSR course. This is a way of drawing on the wisdom of some of the Munay Ki Archetypes to see the bigger picture that enables response rather than reaction. Comparing our completed sheets, we were both clear that the facts of the situation are very simple- I've had cancer and am now about to start chemotherapy to remove and prevent any remaining abnormal cells. Nothing more, nothing less.

Once the facts are established, everything else is about feelings and emotions- often based on distortions, deletions and generalisations. Our feelings were to do with fear of the unknown which led us to commit to find out more. It was time for me to read the stuff I'd been given to remove those fears. I had a bit of a light bulb moment when I sat and reflected on my feelings about chemotherapy. The image that came up was of the Russian man who was poisoned- Alexander Litvinenko. His bald, jaundiced, dying photograph was plastered all over the media as doctors tried unsuccessfully to save his life. The poison was too strong to be treated. I realised this image was firmly fixed in my mind and I was seeing myself lying in a hospital bed as a big bald, yellow flump, not long for this world with doctors powerless to do anything to save me. I've no idea how that image found its way into my mind but awareness of it enabled me to show it the door and replace it with healthier, more helpful images.

The beautiful thing about this process though is that it goes further than just separating out fact from feeling. And next we considered the gifts in the situation. And the more we looked for them, the more we found. These included time to just be and do things we don't normally allow ourselves time for, increased understanding around diet and nutrition and the opportunity to come out of this healthier, stronger and happier than ever. We did get a bit giddy with our 'good things about chemo' list! Apparently I must tell the dentist I'm not allowed that horrible descaling and polishing torture. I must eat lots of ginger biscuits. And last but not least, we must take care with contraception to avoid pregnancy and fathering a child! And of course, Chris's delight at our chemo parking pass must not be forgotten. (Though I sensed disappointment when she realised it couldn't be used in the blue badge spaces at Tarn Hows.)

Once all of the above is considered the overall 'Eagle' view becomes clearer with a perspective that allows everything to fall into place. In the grand scheme of things its just a few weeks of treatment that will lead to being well with the potential for some good stuff along the way!

After a tasty breakfast we drove over to the Manjushri at Ulverston for 2pm Meditation in the Temple. After that we had a hearty lunch of gorgeous pea soup followed by warm scones and a pot of tea. I reckon I could really get into Buddhism!

We went back to the campsite in daylight. One of the reasons for going to such a quiet place was to avoid fireworks. There were some in the distance so we had Deva Premal blasting out Mantra to keep the dogs calm. That and a tasty pasta sauce sent me off into an early sleep. I woke up thinking it must be the middle of the night only to find it was 11pm.
What a lovely surprise- and I went on to have the best night's sleep in ages!

Sunday morning saw some van daftness- a couple of hours of just having a laugh. With a fair splattering of dark humour which I suppose is inevitable. We decided to meander our way down the A6 to the seaside via Cartmell. It was good to call in at Morecambe and Chris walked the dogs along the front and I had a ninja nap after we shared a cuppa and some toasted teacakes.

I was taken back to a very special day in Morecambe when my parents came up to visit just after I got my degree results. They were delighted and we had such a lovely time. A stark contrast from the afternoon we'd shared six years before when I'd decided to drop out of Uni the first time round and my poor Mum and Dad came up to see me in Scotland to persuade me to change my mind. I remember making myself the promise to one day make them proud of me as I walked along the beach at Largs after they left. And in June 1986 in Morecambe on another beach I realised they'd actually been proud of me all along. 



All in all this was a grand old weekend and we finally arrived back home early evening. I had the feeling of having all my ducks if not in a row, at least swimming in the same direction. Just in time to start treatment the day after!

Liz x