Reality Kicks In

Blogging is just so therapeutic. Yesterday when I received the appointments schedule for the six weeks of radiotherapy (I've realised that it's one word not two) the reality of the whole situation hit me. Hard. But yesterday was such a wonderful day in other ways I didn't really have time to think about it after the initial shock. I have no idea why it should have had the effect that it did. Having lived with the cancer for 11 years since the original operation I thought that I'd grown immune to any feelings about it because I've never felt it or been ill as a result of it. As I've said before it's as though I'm looking at it in my body but that I'm detached from my body. OK I know that sounds weird but, hey, that how I feel.

Anyway I was brought back down to earth by the comments on my last posting. I'd read Heather's and Scriptor's comments before the appointments came and taken comfort from them. I read those of L'Archiduchesse and shabby girll afterwards. Yes. Zap the buggers and get on with things. Good advice. I'll let you know in 5 years how I got on! Watch this space.

A Mixed Message

Having spent 6 days trying to adjust to being back in Scotland I set off for Glasgow on Monday 11th.   On Tuesday I went to Ayr hospital and had scans.  On Friday I went back to get the results.  The scan showed nothing.  I was told that this meant that there was nothing that could be seen not that there is nothing to see.  The cancer cells are basically too small to be detected and may, in addition, be too dispersed. So the cancer's there but nowhere to be seen.  Cunning little buggers these cancer cells.  

A year ago radio therapy was ruled out on the grounds that my PSA count was too high for likely success.  Apparently now that the treatment has reduced the count they can at least give radio therapy a go.  There is a 20% chance the cancer cells are around the site of the original operation. They can have a bash (so to speak) in that area with radio therapy and, assuming that there is a 100% chance that any cells there are killed that would give me a 20% chance of having the cancer removed. The side effects are liveable with. And in a maximum of 18 weeks from now it should all be over.

So I feel happy that it's not too far advanced and that there is a chance of the cancer being destroyed.  Having said that I've lived with it for so long now its destruction seems an unlikely scenario.

But wotthehellarchiewotthehell.  It could be worse.  I might have missed the start of the croquet season!