Today, the 15th January 2016, brings my final chemo session – yippie, whoop, harrah!
It brings a feeling of elation as well as a battle to hold back tears of happiness and gratitude that I am able to say my chemo is coming to an end, hopefully forever.
I feel like I’ve reached a HUGE milestone and learnt so much about myself along the way so what better time to share a bit of the journey to get here than today.
It’s been a challenging ride. Even before chemo began the not knowing what to expect was bizarre; there are many different drugs and everyone reacts differently, so other peoples’ experiences were often lost on me.
Then there was the first round of chemo. From the moment they administered the first drug – Herceptin followed by Docetaxel and Carboplatin – I was waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Am I going to vomit (my main concern)? Am I going to feel fluey? Is my hair going to fall out right now (I’d brought a headscarf just in case)? Little did I know that any reactions experienced in the oncology bay would be the least of my worries.
It wasn’t until day three that I really felt the chemo hit – the mouth ulcers, the hot flushes, the exhaustion, the sickness. Looking like a cross between a 15 year old boy and Sandi Toxfig didn’t exactly help my morale either thanks to an outbreak of steroid induced spots and my newly cut barnet. Talking of hair, that was another waiting game – when would it fall out?
The second round of chemo came and alas – Sandi Toksvig was as thick as ever and showing no signs of going anywhere. I was beginning to feel like I’d aged myself 20 years for nothing. Still I’d heard the effects of chemo could build and so the apprehension was ever present.
I was wrong about Sandi, she wasn’t as stubborn as I’d given her credit for. The hair loss started slowly after the second round – malting just a little more than usual. A week later and it was coming out in clumps EVERYWHERE!
Round two brought my first hospital stay. I’d caught an infection but I was also neutropenic (low white blood cell count) so I couldn’t fight it. The drugs worked wonders and I was allowed out on my birthday, feeling a million dollars. My first port of call was to the hairdresser. The time had come to shave what was left of my balding scalp – on my own terms. My hairdresser, Tasha, was amazing – we had a laugh (see ya later Sandi) and there were no tears. There was no charge either. It’s times like these you realise how kind people can be.
Round three brought another hospital stay – the biggest test of all. On arrival to the hospital my dad had to practically carry me to the ward, I’d never felt so weak before. Unfortunately I had to get worse before I could get better but I did get better, thanks to the fantastic team of docs and nurses.
After round three I was terrified of the next dose and the end had never felt more distant. Luckily my oncologist was on a mission to keep me out of hospital, warning me that chemo can kill (like anyone needs to hear that?!) so they couldn’t risk another hospital stay. Her stern words came with an adjusted dosage of the relevant drugs and boy has it made a difference. The last two cycles haven’t been fun but they’ve been easier than before and I’ve stayed out of hospital (phew). I’m hoping round six will be no different.
So here I am, finally the day is here. I now have three weeks until my last cycle finishes. Now all I can think about it how much I’m looking forward to sipping some celebratory prosecco (pass me a pint glass) and seeing fewer bodily fluids – I’m over that lark, thank you very much!
How would you describe your chemo experience? How did you feel when it came to an end? I’d love to hear your experience in the comments below.