257. New Year - where’s the Happy?

You may remember my early determination not to resort to a pity party. Well, I failed miserably.

We went to Kevin and Carol’s on Christmas Eve, which we’ve always done but missed last year. D did his first Lateral Flow Test!! Chocolate gateau and tea/coffee with a good chat felt almost normal, apart from my having to wear my mask when not eating. Carol gave me some beautiful antique roses which are still thriving. I sometimes think they do best when neglected!

Someone knows me well!

Christmas Day was beyond awful. A lot of those thoughts I kept boxed away safely crept out. Underlying it all was the dreadful thought - what if this was my last Christmas? It was going to be pretty crap anyway - Dennis had obviously decided that the monthly bouquet (which I had to organise) was enough so he presented me with a drawing of my favourite Banksy picture (no message) and added sprouts to our usual Sunday roast! I don’t know why I ever hope for more. Anyway, once the thought had escaped - this could be my last Christmas - I got this weird idea that if I didn’t acknowledge it, then it wouldn’t be Christmas and couldn’t be my last. Confused? I was. The result was I didn’t open a single present and didn’t switch on the mini-tree. The Christmas cards were up but that was it. Christmas didn’t happen.

I can honestly say it was one of the unhappiest days I’ve had. I was in a mire of misery. Fortunately, it felt safe to open my presents on Boxing Day and I got some lovely, thoughtful gifts, including a heated button up shawl to wear, along with my cosy blankets, in The Shed. All I need is one of those Victorian footwarmers and I think that’s every inch apart from my nose covered!

Bank Holiday Monday, I was scheduled for my CT scan. So much for the 13-week waiting list Radiology declared they faced and so much for not needing a scan this quarter. My appointment was 5.30 and Lisa was able to take me. That was a good job as everyone else was still away or sozzled by Christmas spirits. I got a phone call at 9.30 asking if I could go in earlier as my file says Difficult to Cannulate. Will I ever lose that reputation?? Earlier meant as soon as I could manage in the morning! I dragged Lisa out of her lie in, had a quick shower and we were there by 11.15. By 11.30, I was cannulated on the first attempt SO THERE! I am NOT DIFFICULT. The CT scan was fine though I’m never prepared for that surreal rush you experience when they inject the contrast dye. In this case, because I couldn’t understand a word the radiologist was saying, it was so distorted from their safe distance. Anyway, I get the results on Friday - and I told him to make sure I had two kidneys. Actually, the nurse who cannulated me checked and their record has been amended. Odd that Oncology is left with the original but with a neat line through the word ‘kidney’.

My first bouquet arrived on the 30th so D is partly forgiven. OK, I chose it but it is stunning. The 30th would have been Mum’s 94th birthday so it felt kind of special. Then came New Year’s Eve and at 3pm, straight after lunch, I was struck by capecitabine tummy - cramps and more cramps. Without exaggeration, I spent three blessed hours on and off the loo, and spent the rest of the time in a miserable ball of pain. The problem is, it would be easy to take loperamide to stop the diarrhoea or Buscopan to stop the cramping but it’s only delaying the inevitable. New Year’s Day wasn’t much better - it hit as soon as I’d taken my evening tablets. I’m embarrassed to confess I watched Taskmaster from the en suite loo. Oh, is nothing sacred once you get cancer??

I was also upset by what a friend posted in our small WhatsApp group: “Well ladies, it’s cheerio to 2021, it brought challenges but we’ve all had a lot to be happy about. Here’s to 2022…” Excuse me? A lot to be happy about? I really thought hard about that one and the only thing I can think of that she would think I could be happy about would be the good response to chemo. But I’d have been a lot happier if I didn’t get the diagnosis, if I didn’t suffer from the side effects and if I didn’t know it can stop working at any moment. I know her. I know she meant well and probably meant it to be encouraging but it didn’t work. I was angry and disbelieving at first. Now I just feel sidelined.

So now we wait for Friday. It’s bad timing because it means I can’t go to the support group this month. I’m not expecting anything different as the CT scan doesn’t show skin mets but I’m not happy with how they are doing. They don’t seem to be reducing in size, 12 cycles of chemo regardless. I’ll need to ask Dr U. I also need to ask for a referral for some emotional support. It feels too soon for a hospice referral but that appears to be the route and it will mean I can get therapeutic treatments like acupuncture and reflexology and join art groups etc. Am I ready for contact with my ultimate destination? I’m not sure how D would handle that.