Effing cancer is an effing effer, frankly
Discussion
Dibble said:
Biggles111 said:
Lost soul said:
I was just under 1 on the neutrophils and my HB was 7;5 
I was wheezing like an old A series doing anything , but after 4 units of red I am strong like bull again 
Yes, good stuff that blood! I got through about 24 units of red and lots of platelets. One of the first things I did on getting better was to go and meet my local blood team to say thanks, I had taken it for granted before. I was wheezing like an old A series doing anything , but after 4 units of red I am strong like bull again Sounds like you're going well, good one!
bank holidays). Hearing I'm possibly helping makes it worth while being out in the pissing rain at 3am in the middle of October.
Biggles111 said:
Thanks Dibble, and great that you can help. Needless to say almost all of my family are now donors. Blood donation is something so easy but which really does save lives, without it many of us would not be here.
Cheers Biggles and Lost Soul. I've been fortunate so far that I've not had cancer, but it's killed my sister, my dad and my cousin and had a good go at my best mate. So anything I can do to help is a big "PHUCK you" to cancer. Dibble said:
Cheers Biggles and Lost Soul. I've been fortunate so far that I've not had cancer, but it's killed my sister, my dad and my cousin and had a good go at my best mate. So anything I can do to help is a big "PHUCK you" to cancer.
Just back from my chemo light day ,well they decided to make it chemo light today as my blood was still too fat free after last weekends nightmare still as ling as I get something each week I am happy
Lost soul, sorry to read about the fingers etc. As for the sore mouth, ouch. The second time I was diagnosed with Cancer I had to have 2 types of chemo and oh boy did I suffer with my mouth. At one point I could not open it to clean my teeth and I did cry. My GP prescribed Pyralvax which really helped.
Good luck.
Good luck.
Mrs Muttleysnoop said:
Lost soul, sorry to read about the fingers etc. As for the sore mouth, ouch. The second time I was diagnosed with Cancer I had to have 2 types of chemo and oh boy did I suffer with my mouth. At one point I could not open it to clean my teeth and I did cry. My GP prescribed Pyralvax which really helped.
Good luck.
I feel your pain Good luck.
Yes even drinking water hurt
the worst part was not eating for 5 -6 days which really set me back and meant weight loss which I try to avoid at all cost, I have now turned that around and put on a kilo and am working on another so it ended up ok Lost soul said:
Dibble said:
Cheers Biggles and Lost Soul. I've been fortunate so far that I've not had cancer, but it's killed my sister, my dad and my cousin and had a good go at my best mate. So anything I can do to help is a big "PHUCK you" to cancer.
Just back from my chemo light day ,well they decided to make it chemo light today as my blood was still too fat free after last weekends nightmare still as ling as I get something each week I am happy
te. Dibble said:
Daft question - is some/light chemo "better" than no chemo? Notwithstanding the potential for any chemo to make you feel ste.
That's what they did last week gave me a chemo light day instead of the full on 3 different types of chemo that I get every 3 weeks it is a balancing act to keep you healthy enough to take the treatment te. And they do tailor the dosage of what you get so not to hammer the blood levels down to where you just can not have it or fall ill as I did the other weekend , hopefully after chemo light last week and a little rest from it this week my levels will be up to take the big day this Friday
Lost soul said:
Mrs Muttleysnoop said:
Lost soul, sorry to read about the fingers etc. As for the sore mouth, ouch. The second time I was diagnosed with Cancer I had to have 2 types of chemo and oh boy did I suffer with my mouth. At one point I could not open it to clean my teeth and I did cry. My GP prescribed Pyralvax which really helped.
Good luck.
I feel your pain Good luck.
Yes even drinking water hurt
the worst part was not eating for 5 -6 days which really set me back and meant weight loss which I try to avoid at all cost, I have now turned that around and put on a kilo and am working on another so it ended up ok Mrs Muttleysnoop said:
I found Complan a great help when I had trouble eating as I drank it with a straw and the chocolate flavour was tasty.
I am prescribed Fortisip which I s like a milk shake shot with 300 cals so not bad , but I am back full power eating now , have developed an almost fetish for roast pork , pork stews and ice cream in incredible quantities so I am now making weight Lost soul said:
Mrs Muttleysnoop said:
I found Complan a great help when I had trouble eating as I drank it with a straw and the chocolate flavour was tasty.
I am prescribed Fortisip which I s like a milk shake shot with 300 cals so not bad , but I am back full power eating now , have developed an almost fetish for roast pork , pork stews and ice cream in incredible quantities so I am now making weight I can't find my previous replies in this thread but my Dads cancer has really taken a hold of him now.
He's had unsuccessful radio and due to many other medical conditions is not considered for either chemo or surgery so has been in palliative care for just over 1 year. They only gave him 9 months and that was nearly 14 months ago now so, for that, we are thankful.
Over the last week to ten days he has been in hospital. Tomorrow we move him to a nursing home for end of life care. He has no mobility, he can do very little for himself. I can see in his mind that he has given up and is ready, his deterioration shows his body has followed his mind, and to be honest I just want him to pass as pain free as possible. The symptoms of delirium which can be linked to his cancer that he has shown throughout the last week have been at times scary. So anxious, angry, confused, upset, all of which I have to tell myself are not the Dad I know. I'm not saying that I am ready, I don't think you ever can be, but I am as ready as I will ever be and just want the best for him. He's loaded with morphine and is mostly drowsy which in itself is a bit of a blessing. We are looking at weeks, nothing beyond.
He's had unsuccessful radio and due to many other medical conditions is not considered for either chemo or surgery so has been in palliative care for just over 1 year. They only gave him 9 months and that was nearly 14 months ago now so, for that, we are thankful.
Over the last week to ten days he has been in hospital. Tomorrow we move him to a nursing home for end of life care. He has no mobility, he can do very little for himself. I can see in his mind that he has given up and is ready, his deterioration shows his body has followed his mind, and to be honest I just want him to pass as pain free as possible. The symptoms of delirium which can be linked to his cancer that he has shown throughout the last week have been at times scary. So anxious, angry, confused, upset, all of which I have to tell myself are not the Dad I know. I'm not saying that I am ready, I don't think you ever can be, but I am as ready as I will ever be and just want the best for him. He's loaded with morphine and is mostly drowsy which in itself is a bit of a blessing. We are looking at weeks, nothing beyond.
Hi all,
Results of latest scan & blood test show that the bxggxr is being held at bay. Me 1 bxstxrd 0 then (again!). I see this as a positive/victory for everyone battling cancer - either directly or indirectly through a loved one. We march together. I WILL NOT let the side down.
My thoughts are with everyone here.
Results of latest scan & blood test show that the bxggxr is being held at bay. Me 1 bxstxrd 0 then (again!). I see this as a positive/victory for everyone battling cancer - either directly or indirectly through a loved one. We march together. I WILL NOT let the side down.
My thoughts are with everyone here.
Well, I lost my Dad a few hours ago to Mesothelioma.
Since Christmas, he wasn't feeling well, it started with a long drawn out cough and a feeling of a lump in his throat which all had us silently worried.
An endoscopy of his esophagus didn't reveal anything unusual which led us to a sigh of relief, but the problems with swallowing worsened.
Whilst that was still being looked at, and plans being made, it got worse until he couldn't take any fluids, and was admitted to hospital.
An esophageal stent was planned, but right before fitting, the doctor who was about to carry out the procedure wanted to take a look over a CT scan, and that's when we were told he had quite advanced cancer which was putting pressure on his throat.
Previously, a doctor did come to ask if my Father had ever worked with Asbestos, which dropped a big hint as to what was coming. At that stage, we had hoped it was Asbestosis, and although life threatening, we would have a number of years maybe with conditions like COPD or heavy Asthma.
The news really was a bombshell, with a prognosis of months or maybe weeks. My blood pressure dropped and I almost passed out on hearing the news. It was like TV static started to creep in, my vision started to go, and I remember a garbled message from a nurse as even my hearing started to fade away.
The day after the stent was fitted, one of the gastro doctors came around. He appologised in a way (not that I hold any ill feeling at all) that he missed the diagnosis. Up until that point, it was looking like a hernia or a weakening of the throat muscles.
One great bit of advice he gave us was to not focus on the illness. It's still the same person, and worry doesn't get you anywhere. Enjoy the time you have.
He was discharged later that day, and the next day, you wouldn't have thought there was anything wrong with him. He was glad to be able to eat solid foods again for a start.
A few days after that though, he collapsed twice with low blood pressure.
I was staying with him at the time, and heard him call from downstairs to find him lying on the floor. After resting for a maybe an hour or so, we decided to call an ambulance, and he just wanted to get dressed beforehand, and try walking. After a few steps, he needed a break, and held onto the back of a chair for a while then passed out again.
At that point, I really thought he had gone. I was standing behind him as he started to go and lowered him to the floor as he just gave way.
An ambulance arrived within minutes as there's a main ambulance station about a mile away, and brought to A&E.
After a couple of days of what seemed like glacial progress, it was discovered a biopsy was taken when the stent was fitted which had some bleeding still.
That was sorted out, and a few days later after plenty of drips, he was back home again.
The fade started from that point onwards though, it was known the cancer was into his back and also around the Superior Vena Cava, you could see the downhill slope start.
His voice became weaker until only a whisper was left. He was prescribed steroids to help him build strength, but these occasionally brought on anxiety attacks. A feeling that something was forgotten or missed, which wasn't very pleasant.
Eventually he was admitted to the John Taylor Memorial Hospice in Birmingham, and the place is amazing. So far removed from a Hospital you wouldn't believe. You couldn't walk past any member of staff without being asked if you needed help with anything. They really would move heaven and earth in a heartbeat if you asked.
That was last Friday, and still the decline carried on. Talk of radiotherapy and chemotherapy were mentioned, but it wasn't expected to be of much use.
On the bank holiday monday, the family all went out for a breakfast at a cafe, and that was probably the last time my Dad ever felt "healthy" or strong.
Early on Saturday morning, his brother, my Uncle, came over from NY and they managed to see each other for a while.
We had left him in peace to watch the FA Cup final, and my mother went back up to see him afterwards.
At about 10pm, my mother called me to collect a few things to see about her staying the night, although in reality, she knew the end was near and didn't want to panic anyone. I arrived shortly afterwards and the nurses told me his condition had deteriorated by a considerable amount.
He was dosed up on morphine at this time, and you could hear the fluid on his lungs.
My brother was on his way up from Surrey, and we had started to gather the family.
The timing was almost magical, my Aunt arrived, followed by my brother a few minutes later, and five minutes after that, he passed away.
It was peaceful, I'm certainly glad of that.
Pain, fear and panic is something I'd never wish on anyone.
It was a touch over six weeks from the diagnosis. He was an electrician and often came into contact with asbestos. I know one of his job was replacing elements in furnaces and burners, and you had to pack the holes with Asbestos. There was a gasworks too that had asbestos fireproof lagging, a train factory where parts where sprayed with an asbestos coating, industrial switchgear that had asbestos insulators inside.
Still, we never thought that would be what would take him. From the 80's onwards, Asbestos was being phased out of everywhere, precautions were being taken seriously, it was forgotten about.
He had just passed 70 in May.
In a way, there's a lot of ways it could have been worse. Ignoring the fact he was taken before his time, it was good to have prior notice. A heart attack can come out of the blue with no warning and leave a lot of things unfinished. Other diseases and cancers can linger on for many months in pain.
We had managed to do things like check out places to hold a funeral reception, even organise what songs to play at the Crematorium.
I guess if you accept the cards you were dealt, it worked out OK. Enough time to prepare and tie up loose ends, without months of waiting for the inevitable and suffering.
This path had been put in motion 30-40 years previously.
Dealing with death is a strange one. It's a baptism of fire you can't escape. Almost everyone will have to deal with the death of their parents or loved ones, and it is something you can never prepare for.
You'll know logically they won't be around forever, but until you are faced with it, you can never really comprehend it.
I've wanted to try and prepare my friends, maybe thinking about softening the blow somehow, or trying to protect them from the feelings I went through, but it's a lost cause. Something everyone has to tackle head on at some stage.
Things worked out OK. It's a relief that his brother made it over here in time, that my brother made it to his bedside intime, that all preparations and his wishes were made, and it was more discomfort than pain he had to go through. Anything else would be just sitting and waiting.
Since Christmas, he wasn't feeling well, it started with a long drawn out cough and a feeling of a lump in his throat which all had us silently worried.
An endoscopy of his esophagus didn't reveal anything unusual which led us to a sigh of relief, but the problems with swallowing worsened.
Whilst that was still being looked at, and plans being made, it got worse until he couldn't take any fluids, and was admitted to hospital.
An esophageal stent was planned, but right before fitting, the doctor who was about to carry out the procedure wanted to take a look over a CT scan, and that's when we were told he had quite advanced cancer which was putting pressure on his throat.
Previously, a doctor did come to ask if my Father had ever worked with Asbestos, which dropped a big hint as to what was coming. At that stage, we had hoped it was Asbestosis, and although life threatening, we would have a number of years maybe with conditions like COPD or heavy Asthma.
The news really was a bombshell, with a prognosis of months or maybe weeks. My blood pressure dropped and I almost passed out on hearing the news. It was like TV static started to creep in, my vision started to go, and I remember a garbled message from a nurse as even my hearing started to fade away.
The day after the stent was fitted, one of the gastro doctors came around. He appologised in a way (not that I hold any ill feeling at all) that he missed the diagnosis. Up until that point, it was looking like a hernia or a weakening of the throat muscles.
One great bit of advice he gave us was to not focus on the illness. It's still the same person, and worry doesn't get you anywhere. Enjoy the time you have.
He was discharged later that day, and the next day, you wouldn't have thought there was anything wrong with him. He was glad to be able to eat solid foods again for a start.
A few days after that though, he collapsed twice with low blood pressure.
I was staying with him at the time, and heard him call from downstairs to find him lying on the floor. After resting for a maybe an hour or so, we decided to call an ambulance, and he just wanted to get dressed beforehand, and try walking. After a few steps, he needed a break, and held onto the back of a chair for a while then passed out again.
At that point, I really thought he had gone. I was standing behind him as he started to go and lowered him to the floor as he just gave way.
An ambulance arrived within minutes as there's a main ambulance station about a mile away, and brought to A&E.
After a couple of days of what seemed like glacial progress, it was discovered a biopsy was taken when the stent was fitted which had some bleeding still.
That was sorted out, and a few days later after plenty of drips, he was back home again.
The fade started from that point onwards though, it was known the cancer was into his back and also around the Superior Vena Cava, you could see the downhill slope start.
His voice became weaker until only a whisper was left. He was prescribed steroids to help him build strength, but these occasionally brought on anxiety attacks. A feeling that something was forgotten or missed, which wasn't very pleasant.
Eventually he was admitted to the John Taylor Memorial Hospice in Birmingham, and the place is amazing. So far removed from a Hospital you wouldn't believe. You couldn't walk past any member of staff without being asked if you needed help with anything. They really would move heaven and earth in a heartbeat if you asked.
That was last Friday, and still the decline carried on. Talk of radiotherapy and chemotherapy were mentioned, but it wasn't expected to be of much use.
On the bank holiday monday, the family all went out for a breakfast at a cafe, and that was probably the last time my Dad ever felt "healthy" or strong.
Early on Saturday morning, his brother, my Uncle, came over from NY and they managed to see each other for a while.
We had left him in peace to watch the FA Cup final, and my mother went back up to see him afterwards.
At about 10pm, my mother called me to collect a few things to see about her staying the night, although in reality, she knew the end was near and didn't want to panic anyone. I arrived shortly afterwards and the nurses told me his condition had deteriorated by a considerable amount.
He was dosed up on morphine at this time, and you could hear the fluid on his lungs.
My brother was on his way up from Surrey, and we had started to gather the family.
The timing was almost magical, my Aunt arrived, followed by my brother a few minutes later, and five minutes after that, he passed away.
It was peaceful, I'm certainly glad of that.
Pain, fear and panic is something I'd never wish on anyone.
It was a touch over six weeks from the diagnosis. He was an electrician and often came into contact with asbestos. I know one of his job was replacing elements in furnaces and burners, and you had to pack the holes with Asbestos. There was a gasworks too that had asbestos fireproof lagging, a train factory where parts where sprayed with an asbestos coating, industrial switchgear that had asbestos insulators inside.
Still, we never thought that would be what would take him. From the 80's onwards, Asbestos was being phased out of everywhere, precautions were being taken seriously, it was forgotten about.
He had just passed 70 in May.
In a way, there's a lot of ways it could have been worse. Ignoring the fact he was taken before his time, it was good to have prior notice. A heart attack can come out of the blue with no warning and leave a lot of things unfinished. Other diseases and cancers can linger on for many months in pain.
We had managed to do things like check out places to hold a funeral reception, even organise what songs to play at the Crematorium.
I guess if you accept the cards you were dealt, it worked out OK. Enough time to prepare and tie up loose ends, without months of waiting for the inevitable and suffering.
This path had been put in motion 30-40 years previously.
Dealing with death is a strange one. It's a baptism of fire you can't escape. Almost everyone will have to deal with the death of their parents or loved ones, and it is something you can never prepare for.
You'll know logically they won't be around forever, but until you are faced with it, you can never really comprehend it.
I've wanted to try and prepare my friends, maybe thinking about softening the blow somehow, or trying to protect them from the feelings I went through, but it's a lost cause. Something everyone has to tackle head on at some stage.
Things worked out OK. It's a relief that his brother made it over here in time, that my brother made it to his bedside intime, that all preparations and his wishes were made, and it was more discomfort than pain he had to go through. Anything else would be just sitting and waiting.
Really sorry to hear that, my thoughts are with you and yours.
I have posted before here about my mum. Twice in the last 18 months or so my mum has fought off cancer, ovarian and breast, and was doing great. Until Thursday that is when she was admitted again in great pain. Tests have shown she now has bowel cancer, and for some reason I am more fearful of a bad result this time. Hard to explain as the doctors have yet to come up with a plan of action, but somehow this feels bad.
Do fk right off cancer.
I have posted before here about my mum. Twice in the last 18 months or so my mum has fought off cancer, ovarian and breast, and was doing great. Until Thursday that is when she was admitted again in great pain. Tests have shown she now has bowel cancer, and for some reason I am more fearful of a bad result this time. Hard to explain as the doctors have yet to come up with a plan of action, but somehow this feels bad.
Do f
k right off cancer.Gassing Station | Health Matters | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff