I’ve managed to keep myself in control. Phlegmatic, what will be will be, it is as it is..Yesterday was my fall apart moment. I woke at 6 feeling so nauseous with anxiety that I took a chance, gulped back a cyclizine to remover the nausea and a diazepam to remove the incipient shakes. Then I lay back and listened to Progressive Hypnosis. Damn, she’s good - though may be the medication may have helped.
We got to Bexley Wing in plenty of time so I wasn’t on my last legs by the time I got to Oncology. My 10.15 appointment actually was at 1.15. I should have trusted my phone diary but I was so convinced it was 10.15, nothing would have shifted me except a confirmatory phone call. No letter, no number... They very kindly fitted me in tho. Height, weight, three lots of baseline bloods, blood pressure, heart rate, temperature...all done efficiently. Zero indications in the readings that this was a woman facing breaking point. Then I was handed over to K (or Jacques as his multisyllabic name tag said) and what an education that was. He reminded me of Mo Farah. However, he diverted me so much, I forgot to get upset. I got irritated (good control there Jan)
He checked my medical details and then asked me to list my medication. I got to agomelatine and
 |
| It’s Spring. |
he went blank. I explained it was a drug only psychiatrists and hospitals may prescribe but I think it was the spelling he couldn’t grasp so I said it was definitely in my notes. So he looked at my notes and asked if I was still taking the oral morphine. Eh? Oh sorry, wrong notes! Wrong woman, wrong patient, wrong drug regimen... is this man safe? He dialled several lines and only got it right once. Maybe number was not his thing, The thing is, we didn’t agree about anastrozole. He said I should take it. I said Dr U had said to stop it. Dr U’s letter was typically ambiguous so who was right? I was beginning to doubt myself but at the bottom of the few notes I took last time, in big bold print was STOP TAKING ANASTROZOLE. Dr U was off-duty so they resorted to the head honcho, Professor something, who recommended I stop it immediately. Vindicated! Hair still no thicker for a week without it, my one big hope, and it turns out capecitabine can thin your hair. At this rate I shall have a combover!!
He took me through all the basics and then came the Big Question - how big is the pill? He showed me a photo in their capecitabine diary (in D’s safe hands) and I just laughed. 150mg tablet easily manageable on an average day (with food). 500mg tablet out of the questions. I have come away with all sorts of suggestions like mixing it in yogurt or rice pudding but trust me, that ain’t gonna happen. If you have ever had the misfortune of having a mouthwash made for antibiotic, you may be close to the sheer vileness of the taste.
Still, two tablets. I can manage that can’t I. Well no, I must take 3 of the large ones and two of the small ones every time. It’s a LONG process, believe me. An ineffective pill cutter and surprising resignation that it has to be done has meant I’ve now managed TWO whole doses. It’s early days for the side effects. Nevertheless, my sea-bands are at work almost 24/7 and I have a raft of precautions at the ready. So far, all I’m aware of is a faint itching of my hands, which are of course massaged well with the St John’s Wort/comfrey/lavender massage oil I have dispensed by the medical herbalist.
So far so.... I don't want to tempt providence.
I just wait. Take the tablets however I can, Pray I don’t lose my appetite. Pray I’m not hit badly. Above all, pray it works.
I’ve filled my rainbow pillbox for time of day, let alone week. I’ve tried to spread them out more tho I know some need to be taken at night. Sill, I can get it down from twenty-something tablets at least. At this rate I shall need an adapted version in old age, Maybe two extra boxes for old crocks
No comments:
Post a Comment