Angela  October 2006

After what seemed like a ridiculous length of time in bed, I finally felt well enough to go for a little walk.  I wanted to take a ride in the car – maybe along the coast – see the sea.  No one offered and looked at me as if I was crazy when I suggested it, so I agreed to being led around the garden like an invalid, which I suppose I was for a while even if I did absolutely refuse to accept it!

It was so nice to be out and feel fresh air around my head – covered of course with the obligatory scarf.  I was sure my bedroom was getting a bit smelly but my family were being too nice to mention.  I stood at the top of the garden near the gate and looked towards the sea but there was a mist coming in and the horizon blended with the sky making the job of focusing too much of an effort to bother with. 

It was then that I felt a bit queasy. Maybe I’d been concentrating too hard.  I couldn’t believe it – I hadn’t had any sickness so far with this chemo and despite the other side effects, I was ecstatic not to be tied to my sick bowl.  The nausea wouldn’t go away so I gave in, crawled back  into the house to collect my bowl and take up battle stations. 

Thankfully, I was only sick half a dozen times and not with the violence of my sickness with FEC.  I don’t think I could have taken that and coped with the fatigue I had just experienced.  I would have felt like throwing in the towel.  But this – this I could cope with.

I had felt quite breathless making my way from the garden but I put it down to general tiredness and didn’t think much of it.  Julia picked up on it while she was reading a small handout about the side effects and when she quizzed me, I had to admit that I was indeed feeling more and more breathless.  It was getting harder and harder to take deep breaths or feel like there was any air in my lungs. 

“Tiredness and shortness of breath is due to a drop in the number of red blood cells made by your bone marrow.  You may need a blood transfusion.”  Julia read from the pamphlet.  She should have edited the content first because the words 'blood transfusion' sent my mum into a real tizz and she started getting her list of emergency telephone numbers ready. It took all my energy to persuade her that a transfusion wasn’t necessary and I toddled off to bed as a compromise to her calling an ambulance!

Some of the other side effects were really weird.  The tingling I felt in my fingers and toes was just like the pins and needles I used to get in school assembly when I’d  sat too long in one position.  Reading the information about  'peripheral neuropathy' as it is officially called, had stuck in my head because it just seems a very silly thing to experience as a side effect of chemo. It’s not permanent, just a bloody annoyance especially when I would go to stand up and not feel my feet – I looked like a bit of a drunk - that used to happen to me after assembly too – not that I looked like a drunk aged seven – just the wobbly bit!

The next side effect was a puzzle – I just couldn’t put my finger on it!  Actually, that is a very poor attempt at a joke – none of my family got it either.  I am refering to my aching fingers.  No kidding - any pressure on the pads was like an electric shock shooting up my fingers. It was not excruciatingly painful, just awkward and I was glad not to have to cut any hair during that time.  Some patients even find that their nails fall off.  It made me grateful that I was a nail biter – at least I could control whether I had nails or not.  Mind you, they were in a dreadful state.  They were tough as talons and had ridges running all over them.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, they went a watery yellow colour.  Not at all attractive.  I decided to give up hand modeling!

Talking of pressure on the finger pads, my head started aching too.  Not a headache but more a touch tenderness.  It became very sensitive and I couldn’t bother with wearing a hat or scarf.  None of us have read about that side effect whilst on Taxotere.  Possibly, someone had bopped me on the head while I was sleeping and it was just bruised.  Possibly, it’s an extension of the nails and finger pain.  Possibly, I’m just an anomaly!

The last side effect that was problem for only a few days was a sore mouth.  I didn’t get any ulcers but I think they would have appeared if I hadn’t started using mouthwash (no alcohol).  I wasn’t having any mouth infection interfering with my dinner times so, much as it made me feel like gagging, I gargled with the mouthwash whilst singing to myself as a distraction.  Not a pretty site or one to understand that easily but it worked and I wasn’t bothered by my mouth again.

Then something wonderful happened during my fourth cycle.

About the second week in, my hair started to grow back.  Never could there have been such interest in a miniscule smattering of stubble.  I felt it first of all, scratchy like sandpaper.  Two days after that I could see it when I looked in the mirror.  I didn’t like what I saw – it looked as if it was growing through very grey.  A week later and I looked like a thug.  I had a skin head! 

What happened to the curly red hair that I was told about? In nearly every story I read, the patient’s hair grew back completely opposite to what it was before it fell out.   I had said, when the chemo had me lacking in the locks department, that ANY hair would be welcome but in my heart I so wanted curly hair.  Red curly hair.

So not only had I fought the fight of the fourth cycle, I also looked the part.   If I was a boxing promoter or a judge ringside at a fight, I think I would have awarded Round Four to me!  It was a clean fight with only a few wobbles, tiredness got me at the beginning but I managed to deal with each successive blow in a victorious and systematic fashion. 

I would make ME Cancerweight Champion of Round Four.