M0stly harm13ss wrote:

“I was hoping that it would be some type of lymphoma.”

That’s a sentence you don’t ever particularly want to hear from your consultant, wishing that the unwelcome intruder currently strangling random bits of your insides was a really serious form of cancer rather than the extremely serious form that you have instead.

So, in the end, we’ve settled on “late recurrence germ cell cancer, unknown primary,” which apparently translates to “cancer of cancer.” A very small number of cancer cells that have been dormant in me for over 20 years have mutated and reactivated. Again, unfortunately (I’ll stop using that word in a minute), this has then spread through my lymph system, and throughout my body with no noticeable symptoms, until of course, it’s too late.



Too late for what?



Too late for a total cure. Instead, we go ahead and treat what we find with a combination of chemotherapy and radiotherapy, balancing toxicity with quality of life (the basic premise of each of these treatments being to poison/irradiatiate you over a period of time and hope that it kills the tumours before it kills you). The first stage of this has gone really well (high praise from my consultant, who I don’t think has ever exaggerated anything in his life), with significant shrinkage of the primary tumours, no new occurrences of cancer, but still traces in my lungs and spine, which will be treated as and when they become a priority. As an aside here, I should suggest to my consultant that someone should write a paper on the euphemistic size comparisons for tumours. Every image I’ve been provided with are very masculine: golf balls, cricket balls, bullets, grenades, ruminant testicles. At no point have I ever been told, “You’ve got a cancer the size of a fairy cake.”



 So, anyway, for now key objective for treatment is not particularly making me any better, but not letting me get any worse.



This basically means that currently, I’m quite well, rather, all my symptoms are a collection of petty annoyances. One day my back hurts, then that goes away and I’ll have a stomach ache for a couple of days, then I lose my appetite. This terminal cancer thing is extremely inconvenient.



On the plus side, I now have a permanent port fitted in my chest, just under the skin from which blood can be taken or drugs delivered without the need for a cannula to be stuck in me. Portacaths are amazing. God forbid any of you, or family goes through something like this, but if you do, I recommend that you explore the possibility of having one fitted. It saves a lot of hassle and pain.

Actually, seriously, everyone should have one. It makes everything so much easier. In fact everyone probably will in the future. We could put food into it. And booze. And vitamins. And software updates. And cheese. Or whatever passes for cheese in the future.

Also on the plus side, due to the private health insurance I have through work, I’m not draining our NHS of resources. I’ve no issue at all with our health service, indeed, I’d be receiving the same treatment from the same consultants (albeit in a slightly less comfortable bed), but if I can reduce waiting lists or resource requirements by one patient, that’ll do me.

Work have been amazing up to now. With a slight change in my responsibilities they have been happy to keep me off the “long term sick” stats, meaning that I’m still on full pay, and can indulge myself in a bit of gaming action as well as do work, although I’ve had to have a break from both since Xmas due to a couple of infections. 

On a more spiritual level, things become a lot simpler. Friends, family and here have been a lifesaver (note, if you could actually save my life, that would be great, thx), no need to put up with extraneous bullshit, I am lucky enough to know that my out of control bus is on its way whilst I stand whistling at the bus stop and the time I have left should be used to enjoy myself and truly live for the day, health permitting. Basically, “I’m not going to die today, or tomorrow so let’s enjoy it.” Fucked if I’m going to spend what time I have left (which could be months or a couple of years) moping and morose. 

I have found though, that a surprising number of people all of a sudden have their own favourite magical diets, homeopathy and religious new-age cures, or at least a conspiracy theory about big pharma hiding the efficacy of vitamin C, kale, magnetism and weed. I am slightly interested in the last one to be honest, if it doesn’t make you better, at least you don’t mind as much, and fancy a selection of snacks.

So anyway, that’s my update. Sorry it’s not better news, and more importantly, don’t stop posting in this thread, everyone’s ailments are perfectly valid, and to be honest, probably much more painful than mine. AMA, and I’ll keep the thread updated (whether you like it or not) with current treatment, how I feel, and what is being stuck in me and where. I’m good like that.

legaldinho wrote:

I just don't know what to say. Brutal and unjust come to mind, tbh. You are handling it with class, I'd be wanting to burn the world.

legaldinho wrote:

I just don't know what to say. Brutal and unjust come to mind, tbh. You are handling it with class, I'd be wanting to burn the world.

M0stly harm13ss wrote:

Thanks all, it means a lot, it really does. We will keep on keeping on. Incidentally, something I have found is that life is actually really fun. A bit monotonous sometimes, but generally really awesome.