Radiotherapy. If you didn’t know what it
meant, you might be forgiven for imagining it was some kind of restful
treatment involving a comfy chair, headphones and a couple of hours of
listening to the pleasing baritones of
Richard Hawley and Liam McKahey, the soaring vocals of Adele, or whoever your
favourite music artists may be. You certainly wouldn’t imagine it to be any
form of cancer treatment.
If, however, I called it by its more usual
American term – radiation therapy – I would lay odds that a completely
different picture would instantly flash into your brain and Adele would vanish
into a distant memory.
I am quite sure that a number of you
reading this will be all too familiar with the side – and after – effects of
this particular form of treatment. In my case, following extensive cancer
surgery last year, I was advised that, as a curative measure, I would need five
weeks of radiation directed at my pelvic and groin area. 25 sessions in all
delivered daily Monday to Friday, with weekends off – presumably for good
behaviour.
I have written on social media about the
wonderful hospitals that have treated me over the past year or so. All of them
in the Merseyside and Wirral areas of England. All of them world-class in their
specialist fields. I have nothing but good to say about the Liverpool Women’s Hospital and Broadgreen. Now it was the Clatterbridge Cancer Centre’s turn to
show why they deserve their many accolades and international reputation for
excellence. From the minute I first came into contact with the consultant who
would oversee my treatment, I was kept fully informed of what to expect, right
down to likely timescales for the effects of the radiation to kick in. As a
result, so far, there have been no nasty shocks.
Every day, a friendly team of consummate
professionals steered me through the process. The actual zapping only takes a
few seconds. The amazing machine moves around the bed you are lying on and it
doesn’t hurt in the slightest. Week One was pretty straightforward. I kept to
the advised low residue (low fibre) diet, used the Aquamax moisturizer ahead of
any side-effects and made sure I had Loperamide handy – just in case.
By Week Three, certain delicate areas of my
anatomy were beginning to feel as if I had left them lying exposed in the
sunshine for too long. Aquamax required in larger doses – and a quirky, but
effective, dressing called Polymem. This comes in a roll. You snip off the
required length, wedge it in the required place and it will happily dispense
regular amounts of soothing moisturizer to the broken skin. Lovely. If you can
keep it in place that is. It does have a sneaky habit of trying to escape out
of the edges of your knickers, so you need to teach it who is the boss. I
persisted and we came to an arrangement. I wouldn’t keep wondering why the
manufacturer had chosen to make it in that particularly lurid shade of pink, in
return for its (mostly) full co-operation.
By Week Four, still sticking to the low
residue diet and, by now, taking a couple of Loperamide per day, plus some
codeine and paracetamol, I found the act of sitting down and standing up
something of a trial. I was all right once I got to the required position, but
it was the getting there that proved somewhat problematical.Apart from that - and wondering where my 'get up and go' had wandered off to - I was doing far better than I expected.
Week Five finally arrived and on the last
day, I duly rang the bell three times – a Clatterbridge tradition. Everyone
applauded and, after thanking the amazing staff, I waddled home.
Yes, waddled. Remember John Wayne and how
he always managed to walk as if he had been sitting astride a horse for two
days solid? That was me. It continued to be me for over a week afterwards. Even
with all the wonderful medications, there is no getting around the fact that
with radiotherapy comes sore skin. It stung, burned, prickled and, when I
walked, it felt for all the world as if a hedgehog – spines erect – had taken
up residence between my legs. When I sat down, I kept looking for the cactus I
was sure I must have sat on.
It is now just over two weeks since my
final blast of radiation. The 'hedgehog' has departed, leaving only a few prickles behind, so Polymem is a thing of history. Aquamax is still my good friend, and anyone passing the bathroom when I am
showering might hear some sounds which… well, remember that famous scene in When Harry Met Sally? You know the one.
In my case, the moans of ecstasy come as a result of the shower soothing some
remaining sore (and itchy) bits.
No, Radiotherapy is not a cake-walk but,
hopefully, as a result of the short term discomfort, I shall be cancer-free. Is
it worth it? You betcha!
With my everlasting thanks to Liverpool
Women’s Hospital, Broadgreen Hospital and Clatterbridge Cancer Centre. You all
do an amazing job.
Well done, Cat, my brave friend. You've been through a lot and I hope that now you can put it all behind you. Btw - you may not have this after-effect but I found myself getting very tired for a few weeks after it all finished. If so, give into it. It'll go away.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sue. You're right about the tiredness and it comes over me quite suddenly, so I just have a little nap. Works for me :)
DeleteAmazing you have such good humour after all this. Well done and good luck.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Julia. :)
DeleteCat, is it possible to have even more total admiration for someone??????
ReplyDeleteYou're too kind, Shey. I have had so much support from those around me - not least of all, you. The smile on my face has had a lot of input from some amazing people, both professionally and personally. Thank you, my friend :)
DeleteNo I'm not kind. Just calling it like I see it. You have been through so much and just kept going, kept working away, kept getting back up on your feet with great dignity and no complaints. That's just you. xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
ReplyDeleteThank you, Shey xxx
DeleteOuch! That sounds so incredibly painful. What a place to need radiation. I'm so sorry you've had to go through this, but I hope this is the last of your treatments.
ReplyDeleteThat bell is an awesome idea. I bet it gives a lot of hope to a lot of people. Well done, Cat!
Thank you, J.H., I hope it is too and, yes, I also think the bell is a great idea. Judging by the smiles on the faces of the other patients when I rang it, I reckon they do too :)
DeleteThat must have been such a great feeling. You're my hero.
DeleteThat's very kind, J.H. Thank you :)
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