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Nigel Scott: Help! I'm coming to the crunch
I suppose it's time I brought you up to date on how things are going, cancer wise.
After announcing my trials and tribulations several weeks ago I've gone a bit quiet on the Big C front which, take it from me, is being seen at Normanton Towers as a huge positive.
I suppose one of the reasons I originally fessed up to my illness was that it had left me with little else to write about.
The onset of the illness and my gradual decline had left me with nothing else to experience, nothing else to say.
I had dreaded the onset of my chemo regime as you hear such horror stories and I embarked upon it in the dread fear that things, in the short term at least, were going to get much worse before they started to get any better.
However, this has been far from the case, I am delighted to tell you.
It seems chemotherapy doesn't have to be a long descent into hell – it's just that you hear far more horror stories than positive ones and I guess part of the fear process begins when the hospital staff take you through all the things that might go wrong, leading you – being human – to believe that they surely will.
Chemo
My own chemo course – it may not be the last but, as I'm writing this, the final drops of my six doses over 12-week treatment programme are finding their way into my bloodstream – has been a relative doddle.
When I hear the difficulties friends and colleagues have endured I have to admit I feel a little guilty. I shouldn't, but I do.
I have had no sickness, no nasty toilet troubles, I still have my hair. The only real side effects I have experienced have been a sensitivity to cold in terms of pins and needles in my fingers and a strange similar sensation on my tongue and throat – something which disappears gradually as the chemo works its way through my body.
Added to that my energy levels have dipped up and down but you soon learn to take rest when you need it and, generally, after a doze of a couple of hours my batteries have been recharged.
Oh, and finally, my taste buds have been a bit all over the place. Certain foods have lost their sweetness, others taste more bitter than I remember and sadly, for certain periods, beer and wine has tasted like dishwater. Spicy foods seem to go down well but what my tummy tumour thinks of this I'm not sure.
Revelation
However the revelation over the past few weeks that the chemo was not going to floor me has led to a relative normality returning to life, hence my lack of reflection on my general woes.
But crunch time is coming. On September 16 I will have a fresh body scan, the results of which will be revealed to me on September 25 at Jimmy's.
This will be the key to where we go from here. Has the treatment worked? Will I need more immediately or somewhat further down the line? Have I won the war or just the first skirmish? Or has this been a false dawn?
I'm trying not to dwell on it but it's hard not to.
All I can say is what I've been telling everyone – if how I feel is any indication then surely I am getting better, for now at least. It's just I need the docs to say that.
In the meantime, if any of you want to keep your fingers crossed for me – as I would happily do for anyone you know or love in similar circumstances – that would be great.
A big collective group hug and "chins up" moment will do none of us any harm.
My very good companions
I read this week that research by Macmillan Cancer Support has found that almost 60 per cent of cancer patients are still paying the full price for parking as they undergo their treatment.
This is despite Government guidance stating that hospitals in England should offer cancer patients free or reduced parking.
Macmillan's stance is that cancer patients should not have to pay to park while receiving their treatment at hospital. It's something with which I wholeheartedly agree – and the good news is that at Jimmy's in Leeds you don't.
If you are able to get to hospital, either driving yourself or finding a friend or relative to take you, you are saving the NHS money by not needing an ambulance. Surely, therefore, a free spot to park while you are undergoing your often stressful treatment is not too much to ask?
At Jimmy's all I have to do is to ask for a slip at the day care unit reception which I show to the parking attendant on the way out. He then validates my ticket and I drive away having paid nothing.
Parking
Come to think of it, the parking rates are pretty good for those who have to pay, I'm sure it's only a pound an hour, on the Beckett Wing anyway, which doesn't seem too steep to me.
My experiences at Jimmy's have all been incredibly positive and the staff have been simply brilliant; nothing has been too much trouble and their good humour and attention to my needs has been so much comfort during this difficult period.
If ever things got too mentally straining, there has always been spiritual healer Ruth Kaye's hidey-hole, around the corner, where I have been frequently transported into a world of relaxation and positivity.
I'll be glad if the doc tells me soon that I won't have to see these people again for a while but I'll be sad also because they have all been wonderful companions on my journey and I have valued their company immensely.
I can't thank them enough.
All by myself – and ready for a comeback
MY elder daughter is currently sunning herself on some Bulgarian shoreline with her boyfriend Joe ahead of their university adventures to follow later this month; Mrs S has gone back to work and, as of Wednesday morning, my youngest has gone back to school.
After a family summer together which has included a number of trips out to build up my strength and a number of days in watching the Ashes, I am now back on my ownsome and lonesome in an empty and quiet house.
Time, I think, for a return to work. There was a period around the spring bank holiday when I honestly wondered whether this would be an option in the near – or far – future but I'm just about ready now for the daily cut and thrust of office life.
The one consolation of leaving behind my new found friends at Jimmy's is the knowledge that I'll soon be in the bosom of my working family – my brilliant, talented colleagues whose support and good wishes over this difficult period has been so appreciated and so important in my recovery process.
Thanks guys, looking forward to seeing you all again very soon.
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Sunday 12 February 2012
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