The Umpire needs to go....

My last blog seems like forever ago but was in fact posted last week after Boxing Day. So much has (and hasn't) happened...

I spent last Wednesday mentally gearing myself up for round two of chemo. It's a strange place to find yourself when you have spent the previous 21 days clawing your way back to some vague sense of 'normal' - celebrating the return of taste or of an energy level you recognise as something you used to feel. By mid week I was able to face a coffee again after almost 3 weeks of hating the taste and smell. Its small but significant when so much of your life is being flipped on its side. A simple cup of coffee but symbolic ( for me ) of my regular life - of happy coffee dates and catch ups and coffee cuddles with my stinky dog first thing in the morning. It was back! For a moment. And then, the chemo countdown begins. And you literally do count the hours left before next treatment. My little brother asked me on the drive to the hospital on the Thursday how I was feeling and I described over the phone to him the bizarre mix of dread and excitement. I am no longer scared - that emotion was reserved for surgery and the first hit of chemo. Now that i know what to expect the pervading sense is of sheer dread kind of wrapped in a bundle of excitement that this takes you that little bit closer to the finish line. In fact I was getting bolshy enough to start making comments to the tune of celebrating a half way mark. A lesson I've always known but sharply reminded - play each point, not the match. And for me this time,it was not meant to be. The Umpire strikes again.

It seems the chemo regime (I'd prefer to use the remote tropical island term of 'cocktail')causes me to have an allergic reaction that is not the most relaxing while being pumped with toxic chemicals. So while my chemo buddies are kicking back in their wiz bang chairs drinking cups of tea and watching the cricket, I'm coughing and spluttering and turning a nice shade of purple. So last Thursday when I should have been wrapping up round two and heading to Noosa for New year celebrations, I actually limped home all sad and disappointed filled with phernergin (damn that stuff is goooooooood) but no chemo. Treatment temporarily stopped. No half way mark. Back to Boycey for a change in game plan and possibly a protest that this umpire needs to go - I need some calls going my way.....pul-ease!

So with cycle two still hanging in the air, we packed up and headed North for a few days of Planet Noosa and New Years celebrations. It was clear from the hospital staff that nothing would happen with all the public holidays looming and so refusing to leave the plushy chemo chair would get me nowhere. What better way to get over the disappointment! In typical indulgent style, NYE really just turned into an extension of Christmas in a different kitchen! Fun times had by all although it's a sign of my current existence when you need to be woken up to see midnight in! Happy New Year - can I go back to bed now??? Lol. Next year I'm not sleeping for 24 hours! There was discussion of resolutions and new beginnings and burying 2011 so deep it's now in a previous century. There was a symbolic private ceremony of throwing rocks as far out to sea as possible after nursing them in your hands while projecting all the 'never want to do again' things, reactions, people, places.....and of course for me the hardest chuck away of cancer in a rock you've ever seen. It's still hard to believe I am doing this. However like all good ceremonies there was also the positive and delicate dropping of flowers in a beautiful rock pool in Noosa National Park - that came accompanied with quiet wishes and hope - none of it articulated but all of it meaningful.

So here I am now on January 3rd again, a day away from round two chemo. This blog is coming to you live from Nuclear Medicine waiting room in North Coast Radiology. Apparently before I can take a sip of my new chemo cocktail, the Oncologist needs to feel confident my heart is in tip top shape to cope with it. Does Boycey not realize who he's dealing with??? Lol. So I've been injected with a syringe full of fluid (by a 12 year old) that has to find its way to my heart over the next 20 minutes. Ive got stick on monitor thingies all over me to the point I'd be attractive to an alien and shortly I will be injected with radio-active fluid that will 'stick' to the first injection and allow the radiologist to photograph my heart pumping! I'm pretty sure it's pumping just fine and if you stuck me on a treadmill right now I can guarantee given the lack of hard core exercise for me in the past few weeks, it would pump at a rate I wouldn't be particularly proud of. Body Attack in 2012 - God help me!

As I sit and type this I am really unable to detail what I expect to have happen to me over the next 21 days of cycle two. I can't rely on cycle one as a precursor as the drugs have changed. But I guess i can rely on the same approach and attitude and just trust and hope that this is enough to get me through. My hair has now all but gone. I'm displaying a number 1 head shave having worked my way from 4 backwards. The first two designed by "Hair by Lynnnnnnn" who is now so popular I was unable to get in for the last shave. This time Johnny Scissorhands set me up on the back deck and motored away while Murphy looked nervous. It ended with a hug and a tear and yet another conversation about how ridiculous this whole experience is. You know those conversations that start "geez I never thought I'd be doing this on the back deck....." I feel like I have a lot of those these days.

So on the eve of round two chemo I have had to adjust my sails to meet the changing winds and set myself on a slightly new course. It's a tactic that I know will see me to the finish line safely and I have a strong sense that this is exactly where I need to be. I can't help but wonder whether an allergic reaction to the former chemo was my body's way of warning me we needed to change. I think the game plan huddle with Boycey and the agreed new run to second base, with that groovy goose side step and a couple of quick cartwheels was EXACTLY what this game needed to spice things up. And the crowd are loving that the game just heated up. So how's my heart you ask? The size of a lion's so hear me roar xxx