Eunertia

The euphoria of finishing the Xeloda course compounded by the residue of 6months pills is making this week the most exhausting I've had. Short of breath, heart pounding and my limbs feel like I'm walking through cake mixture (you wouldnt want to eat it afterwards). Next week the recovery begins.

Last Pill!

At 8.00pm this evening I took my final Xeloda tablet!

3 Little Pills, Well, Quite Big Really

Breakfast Xeloda taken which leaves three more for this evening...and that'll be the lot! As we left the Magnet Man party last night (Ragga Rock, the Pride Posse and miniature horses - what else could you want on a chilly June evening?)the DJ played New Order... 'I used to think that the day would never come...'

Scan

I have a date for a CT scan to check the op and chemo have done their work. I have to arrive an hour early on 13th June so presumably have to drink the heinous milky dye before the scan.

Bag Demon

The bag demon came in the early morning and unfastened one of the bag's Velcro tabs. The bed was saved but the floor got fairly messy. Shell was in the bag-zone as soon as she woke up and began to clean 'nice consistency' she said.

Special Che

I went to Playfest, worked 2 shifts and got very tired but enjoyed Kamilla Lovett, the Woodland Creatures, Barlights, King Blues and Futureheads and being visited by the Pride Posse; Kim, Deanna, Stevie and Shell came and took tea in the caravan. Which wasn't very Festy really but then while others were getting out of it on Special K (Ketamine) I took Special Che (Chemo) - my last week of Xeloda! And I felt a lot healthier than some of the punters - I did a shift with St John's Ambulance and a lad came in with scorched buttocks - his friends had put a lighter to the aerosol of Quicktan he was applying.

Whizz Biz with Biswas

In for my 2.00pm appointment with cheery Dr Biswas and out again by five past. He's pleased that the Xeloda regime has only sapped my energy and fingerprints and has arranged a CT scan in a couple of weeks. He's such a fast worker if he could have done the scan there and then I'm sure he would. Somehow he seems to have engineered the 6 month chemo course to fly by!

New Order!

In the words of New Order's 'True Faith'; I used to think that the day would never come... I collected my last 84 Xeloda tablets this morning and had a farewell handshake with lovely Sister Karen Noonan-Shearer. She thinks my reversal op may be as soon as July depending on the surgeon's lists. Shell's convinced I'll be in hospital for Pride!

Phew Glue

The nightmare was narrowly averted. Last night I slept on while the bag grew to bursting point. I waddled to the Thetford (the chemical loo, not the Forest, 50 miles away), emptied successfully and then, when everything seemed serene and sorted, the classic horror film double bluff...drip, drip. I so did not want to find my bag of bags, draw and cut the hole from the template and blast the bag with the hairdryer to fix the glue at 3 in the morning - mainly because I was fagged out but also because Shell and Peggy and neighbouring campers were sleeping peacefully. So I cleaned up and then clutched the wretched bag to me as tightly as I could. Miraculously it reglued itself and I woke in the morning still purposefully clutching.

Thetford

The chemical toilet has been a great addition to our camping kit, offering immediate bag emptying all through the night. Our loo is, sadly, named after the birthplace of Tom Paine and republicanism and the town which hosted a number of Dad's Army episodes. Good as the toilet is it's a shame that the town of Thetford is now synonymous with a receptacle for s**t.

Toilet Tense

Dusting down the toilet tent and Portaloo (unused standbys for years) ready for hols with Wendy and 5 week old Alex, my they grow up fast. It's hard enough to get myself up for bag emptying thrice a night at home but debagging by torchlight will be something else. At least the incentive not to sully the tiny caravan is pretty powerful. For a while Pregnant Wendy and I had a bizarre commonality - both tired, with fussy diets, unable to do a lot of things - now I have a lot in common with her baby son - always sleepy and frequently incontinent!

Countdown music!

No, not 'Doo doo, doo doo da da da dah!' with a conundrum and Jeff Stelling. Ann Nicholls has suggested I need a song to get me to June 5th and the end of chemo. So far she's suggested 'The Final Countdown' - Europe and my selection is 'Beat Dis' by Bomb the Bass. Any thoughts?

Pint of Bear Please

The end is most definitely in sight for the Xeloda regime but I guess the stoma reversal op and ensuing farewell to the bag won't be for a while. Which is tough because the warmer weather has me gasping for a cold beer (or 'bear' as they say around here). The bag, sadly, cannot deal with fizzy so I'll have to be patient. Mid June though at least promises a glass of wine without a complex metallic nose and underlying hints of Chemo.

Yellow!

All the fuss about Bilirubin was quite apt yesterday, the day we celebrated the Canaries success - Bilirubin turns things yellow! From pee, through bruises and bile; Bilirubin is a glorified personal E number.

Billy's down

Slight hiatus this morning as Thursday's blood test showed Bilirubin levels above the critical 30 level, the threshold for withdrawing chemotherapy in case of liver damage. Nurse Karen took another blood test and the level was down to 15 - the impact of 4 more rest days and Norwich City's elevation to the Premier League no doubt! So back on the Xeloda - my last but one cycle.

How long?

Get an extra day in my week off because of the Bank hol tomorrow. Although my hands, feet and bag calm down a bit when I'm off Xeloda for a week the metallic taste on my Tongue never goes, nor the inertia. As it's only a month and a bit to go until my last pill I'm intrigued by how long it'll take for the taste to go, fingerprints, nous and energy to come back. Shame on those who ask 'Will they come back?'!

Leak Alert Dog

Woke up this morning to Peggy whining and found I was lying in a puddle. Thanks Peg for saving the mattress! The last two times I've had leaks I've found a split in the bag. They are only plastic lined paper and I guess maybe I scratch in my sleep? Can I rely on Peggy or should I invest in a waterproof mattress cover and endure rustling every time we move? Clare Balding tweeted the other day about Radio 4 announcers (her girlfriend Alice!) talking about 'Cross Incontinence' ( I think she means a programme about Ghana followed by one covering Mounties). I get annoyed about leaks but hope 3 times doesn't count as officially incontinent. Keep up the good work Peggy.

Bag around the House

Avoiding the Royal Wedding but remembering that most famous stoma Bagger - Gawd Bless the Queen Mum. Her daughter preserves her memory by always having a bag with her; know anyone else who carries their handbag around the house?

Job a Day

I can only manage one task a day. Yesterday I had two meetings and after the second I was a Zombie and my bag told me off. Oh Dear nothing to tax me me today (not even walking the dog) till Pride Live recording at Future Radio later.

NCFC - Bad for One's Health or a Welcome Distraction from the Real World?

Gosh - still in an automatic promotion place courtesy of a 96th minute rebound off Simeon Jackson's knee! I probably don't have cancer but I might develop a heart condition if they don't wrap the next 2 games up earlier on in the match.

Most NCFC seasons have been entertaining but the years when I, or significant others, have had some sort of trauma have held a compelling parallel turmoil; the year I came to Norwich we played in Europe and beat Bayern and lost to Inter. The year I had Cervical Cancer we were relegated, briefly had Martin O'Neil as manager and then campaigned to get Robert Chase out as chair (welcoming Delia & Michael to the board instead). The month we got to the playoff final was when my Mum died. I don't think there's any causal relation but I'm pretty sure that following Norwich City is a great distraction from the stresses of more important stuff.