Day 9 - The longest day

This was a big day, and I had already decided to ride to the hospital. My treatment for the day was radio, followed by chemo, and another radio in the afternoon. My first radiation therapy was at 7.20am so I had to leave home around 5.30am to make it with plenty of time to wash and register.

Before leaving, I lathered up with Sorbalene and put on my new face/neck sock, riding glasses and helmet. I also prepared my camera to record the ride. I wanted to show Vicki that most of the ride was on shared or cycle paths and was quite safe, as she had a tendency to worry.

With the sock around my face and neck, I sure got a lot of funny looks from other cyclists and car drivers at intersections. I didn't care, it served a logical purpose and they'd never be able to identify me anyway.

As I was going to be at the hospital all day, I also had to take mouth moisturiser, sorbalene, toothpaste and my bi-carb/salt solution with me. The mouth moisturiser was needed because my mouth had started to feel dryer. I was still producing what I felt was plenty of saliva, so I think the dryness was caused by the chemotherapy, like the rash, but I'm not sure. In any case, it helped. The sorbalene was so I could rub some more in after my first radiotherapy session and the toothpaste and bi-carb/salt solution was so I could complete my normal M&T Routine after lunch.

Radiation therapy takes around 15 minutes. My chemo session was booked for 9.30am, but the day centre didn't open until 8.30am, so I had some time to wait. I found a lounge chair in the waiting area that reclined, and promptly went to sleep. I had nearly two hours to wait. Thankfully no one nicked my bag while I was [probably] snoring away.

My first course of chemo last week was a 'loading' dose, meaning they double up to get things started. Today's course is the regular dose, half the dose from last week, and which therefore took half the time. Around 2 hours instead of 4.

My chemo is delivered in a structured routine. My "Obs", blood pressure, heart rate and temperature are all measured. A cannula is placed into an appropriate vein and saline is pumped through using a hand held syringe to clear any blockages in the cannula and make sure everything is running as it should. This is followed by a syringe full of liquid steroid. The steroid is to assist my body to cope with the chemo drug. There is a 30 minute gap before the chemo drug is pumped using an IV (intravenous) machine. The chemo is measured according to the dose recommended by my Medical Oncologist and is immediately followed by a further saline IV drip for around 20 minutes. Unlike my first treatment last week, standard "obs" (blood pressure, heart rate, temperature) were not taken after treatment.

I left the chemo day centre around 11.30am and was advised to go to Café Anatomy in the Harry Perkins Research Centre by a friend, and also by my trial nurse. I figured I'd go there for lunch. On the way, I got a little lost and walked past the morgue. Turns out the morgue wasn't that far from this café that was named Café Anatomy. Now I'm not usually one to covet conspiracies, but I admit to thinking about the movie Sweeney Todd, starring Johnny Debb, where the barber killed his clients and his girlfriend baked pies with the meat from the bodies. It is a true story from old London, and after all, the morgue is just a stone's throw from Café Anatomy!

In actual fact, Cafe Anatomy was quite upmarket compared to the other, admittedly older, cafes in the hospital and its menu was good. I chose the Vietnamese Beef Salad. It was delicious and I really enjoyed it, although I did wonder where the "beef" came from. Of course, I said the meal was delicious when the cafe's manager came around to collect my dishes.

On the way back to DD block, I walked into the Solaris Care centre. I spoke for a while to the receptionist who was very helpful. I had heard about the services available to cancer patients from Solaris Care by the Radiation Therapist as part of our information session, but didn't know much more. The attraction of free massages was particularly appealing. By the time I left, I'd booked a Reiki massage and normal massage a week later. Can't wait for this.

The Youth Cancer Centre is a designated room for teenagers dealing with cancer. it is kitted out with things teenagers would find interesting, and importantly for me, has a fully stocked kitchen. It is located in the Cancer Centre, so it is a handy resource. The ladies looking after the Centre were very kind in letting me have one of their disposable cups to fill with hot water for my bi-carb/salt solution and M&T Routine. Obviously I looked youthful to them.

My final radiotherapy session was at 3.20, and I had a little time to wait, so I went back to my now favourite recliner and did some work on my iPhone, and then watched a pretty crappy movie on YouTube. I didn't get its name and I didn't finish watching it.

The staff in the Cancer Centre have been excellent, and always very accommodating (apart from the odd time when your standing at a reception counter and the staff ignore you to complete what their doing on the computer, like it's going to go somewhere if they stop to answer my query for 5 seconds). I've even had two gentlemen offer navigation assistance when I've been looking for a particular place, like the Chemist and Café Anatomy. As well, the staff in the treatment rooms, because we see them so often, call us by our first names. I reckon all of them have been surprised to hear that I have ridden my bike to the hospital. Clearly this is not something they see frequently.

I can't say I like the mask any more after a few sessions, but I seem to be getting used to it. I've found that spraying my mouth moisturiser into my mouth just prior to getting on the table and having the mask fitted works a treat. As a mouth breather, and with a drier than normal mouth due to the treatment, this is my main concern as the mask is so tight it is difficult to swallow and / or lick around your mouth. I don't feel claustrophobic, just tightly constrained.

After my final radiotherapy session, I relaxed in my favourite recliner again, thinking I'd wait until about 4.30pm when I anticipated it being a little cooler outside for the ride home. I was feeling good, almost normal in fact, so I was positive I was going to be ok.

Vicki had messaged me to say she could pick me up on her way home from her shift at St John of God Hospital, but I wanted to ride. I knew this was not going to last so getting in as much riding as I could, while I could, was important to me. I refuse to feel like a victim.

I was pretty restless by then and keen to get going, so I decided I'd get changed slowly instead of sitting doing nothing. By the time I was ready to go, it was around 4.30pm and

the temperature had dropped to around 27 degrees. There was a reasonably strong westerly cross-breeze but it was still a comfortable ride home.

I was pretty tired when I got home and Vicki, bless her cotton socks, was cleaning the pool. I reckon she knew I'd probably get changed and jump in when I arrived home. Either she knows me too well, or is a mind-reader. In both cases, I'm buggered I reckon. Won't be able to get away with anything now, like saying I'm going to the gym, then nicking off to the pub.

Lamp chops and vegies for dinner, followed by my staple ice cream and cup of tea. I completed, yet again, my M&T Routine and went to bed around 11pm. Still feeling good.