Not for the Faint-hearted

On Friday I was back in hospital for my tenth out-patient maintenance treatment. This cycle of treatments sees me receiving just one of the drugs (Retuximab) that was part of my initial chemotherapy cocktail when the cancer was being targeted. As my type of cancer can't be cured medically at present, the doctors fully expect it to return. Having this maintenance treatment every 2 months is supposed to push back the date of its return. Every treatment means it gets pushed back further and further.

I of course still pray that God will intervene and heal me completely. No returns, no come-backs! God can do it, but I'm happy to submit to His plans for me - even if it includes living with cancer.

It was only when I sat down in the treatment chair that I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to drink lots of water in the hours leading up to my treatment. Oh no! Drinking lots of water has, in the past, helped to enlarge my veins a bit and as a result helped with the cannula going in (to which the drip is attached). But this was not to be on this occasion - my fault I know!

The first attempt found a vein in the top of my hand, which is the usual place for my cannula to go. But the flow was not good. This means that the medicine would struggle to get in to my body. So we needed to have another go elsewhere.

This time, a vein was found to the side of my upper wrist. They hadn't gone in this high up before. Wow - this one hurt! He found a good vein that was flowing well. But the pain continued, and continued. This was all it took - I felt my stomach begin to churn, my skin go hot and clamy. I felt light headed and then - I fainted!

I came round with my treatment chair in a horizontal position, one nurse holding my legs high in the air, another squeezing the drip bag and another holding and pointing a fan at me (it was a hot day).

We always have a laugh after one of my fainting spells, which the nurses are quite used to now. I even have a bit of a reputation amongst the chemo nurses for being a 'fainter'. In fact I was joking with one of them that when she sees my name on the treatment list in the morning, she gets someone else to cannulate me! This caused a lot of laughter (because I think it's true).

The rest of the treatment went well. I felt really sleepy as usual and just watched some TV in my tablet. Another man in the treatment room also had a bad time of it. He had an allergic reaction to the same drug that I am given. He was very quiet and dignified, but was a horrible grey colour. Lots of doctors and nurses were rushing around but I think he was OK in the end.

After the treatment I did feel ill. Usually my maintenance treatments leave me tired and that's about it. But this time I did feel a bit ill too. Not as poorly as the full chemo made me feel, but I was feeling a bit under the weather.

The next morning, after a good night's sleep I was feeling much better and was able to return to normal - changing nappies, getting bottles of milk ready for the girls in the morning etc. We even had a BBQ in the afternoon that we invited the family around for. It was a good day.

Thank you for reading and for your continued support, prayers and thoughts. I do enjoy hearing from people about their experiences with cancer and / or faith so please continue leaving comments below.

Until next time.