BOM ANO/HAPPY NEW YEAR

And 2010 is there. Almost. Time flies. I can definitely tell it this year with a different perspective. And as usual, at this time (as in other celebrations), we offer our best wishes to everyone: Happy New Year, Merry Christmas, Happy Easter and so on. Most times it just comes out as a standard season greeting melody: Happy New Year...All the best....May your wishes come true. The circumstances of life lead me to wish you all, my friends, colleagues and anonimous followers of my blog, with the most profound meaning a Great Healthy 2010. And a great 2010 as simple as in good health. The rest will follow (the love, the money, the job, the house....the the... the that each one of us is looking for). If health is not there...fuckitol!!! Be good, be also bad, but be yourselves and enjoy life throughout 2010 and beyond. 2009 has not been that bad after all...we are still alive! See you in 2010.

Taste is back

That was quick. Goes for lunch and comes back for dinner!!!! Bit shy, but back. How do I know? Try 100% cacao chocolate followed by plastic fantastic strawberry. I explain. Dinner was fish and yes I could taste fish, though, you know, not a fresh fish from the portuguese atlantic waters. Then I had a sudden wish to eat chocolate. Unfortunately, I could only find a 100% cacao and I forgot what that means. Not sweet...at all. What a disappointment. I thought taste is really gone. But then realized that 100% cacao means not sweet. So, went for the strawberry. And the contrast was so big that the strawberry did indeed taste strawberry.

Taste is gone

No panic...I am not talking about taste like in style. No, no, that one is still there these days. I hope. Lol. Food taste left me. Almost unannounced. How do I know? Facing a pizza at lunch today. The fight of the meals. Pizza margherita versus Miguel's appetite and taste. I won, I mean I ate the pizza, but was it a pizza? It could have been have been fish and chips in disguise. To confirm the loss I moved to the beautiful strawberries I bought at M&S. Beautiful, you know, like when you are in normal taste conditions they look pretty good but end up quite plastic fantastic? In this particular case I could see the strawberry but it could have been a potatoe as well...from the taste....less. Quite an experience. It is almost like molecular cuisine, so en vogue by El Buli. With a variation in my case, on molecular cuisine you see a strawberry but it tastes like an olive, for instance. In my case it tastes nothing. I am taste neutral, no reason to complain about food now. Maybe I should try lamb and saumon. But, as the brain is still working I guess it would be a no go. It will come back though, it will come back, sooner or later. The food taste. Miam!

What's up?

Christmas is over....so much excitment, rush rush and its already gone. Next year there is more. You guys had a good Christmas? Anything out of normal, like Santa Claus didn't show up due to snow disruption on the MI5? Family left, I am back to my position as king of my world. :-). Sleep, eat, drink water drink water, read, watch dvd's/internet. Got a bit of cold, bit shy, not defined yet.

I survived Christmas eve

Oh Gosh, it was not easy....but excellent to have family around and the dinner came up just as in Portugal. So everyone was happy. Pretty intense though with all family around (kids will always be kids) and me a bit tired. And the food, the food and the food! I had to battle myself back from stuffing some kilos of bacalhau and risking to spend the night....you know doing what. And then the sweets, more sweets and more. The enclosed picture gives an idea of my head and spirit spining around in waves of excitment and despair vav a Christmas eve after chemo. I survived! Ops! There is now Christmas lunch arriving. I think I need some exercise.

Jingle Bells Jingle Bells - tocam os sinos na torre da igreja

The allergy is gone. Uff! Couldn't scare my mother. Enough commotion already to see me with a shaved head. Family arrives tomorrow for the battle of the Christmas Eve "bacalhau". It's going to feel like a refugee camp evacuating Christmas dinner from Portugal to London (people, food, drink, pans, sweets...the all lot). I hope the airport authorities don't stop the vegetables and codfish or we end up having cucumber sandwiches. I wish you all my friends a great time with your families. I shall be silent for a few days. Nothing will happen anyway, just eat, drink, eat, drink, and eventually some natural irritation with relatives insisting to eat more (very Portuguese: "Eat more, eat! Don't leave and then say you were hungry!"). Never try this line on me.

Allergic to my place!!

Is it possible? Before the last cycle started I spent a few days at home and the body started getting all red. I got to the hospital and there were no traces to show to the doctors. Like if the allergy had become, all of a sudden, doctor shy. Now I am back home and the allergy is mildly showing up. This body only wants now aseptic hospital environments? Need to give it a few days of adaptation. Oh! The wonders of chemo.

2 months have run

2 months already since I was told about my partner in crime (23/10). 1.5 at hospital (since 09/11), the rest at home. Crazy, time flies!! The world didn't change much...I got a new look. Its Christmas, almost New Year. Life goes on. So, what's next you may wonder? Next week consultation for blood tests and liver check up. Week after new blood tests and see Prof B. for next steps assessment. Then new scans.....spooky, at that stage we see if chemo has worked. Their intention is to do only two cycles, which have just finished. But you never know. All fingers crossed. And maybe some local and minimal radiotherapy to finish the process. From now on and until further notice I am resting at home, like a lazy cat. Miau miau!

My Christmas tree

With a Galo de Barcelos taste.

Amazing machine

This body of ours!!! Neutrophils at 1.4 today, another intrathecal (spine injection) and I am out of hospital tonight. Last time took me another week to go through recovery. Ufff!!! freedom again and Christmas definitely at home. My priorities today: walk the walk in the ward to get this body shaking again. Eat a pizza for lunch and a chicken curry Wagamama for dinner. This is what freedom means, isn't that simple? Who wants more?

The neutrophils league

Me and my neutrophils and my isolation room are a competition of its own. Whoever wins first determines when I can go home again. Last time it took a week and three days. It went from 0 to 0 until jumped to 5 thanks to an ...overdose, of boost injections. Now it went from 0.5 on Friday to 0.3 yesterday to 0.4 today...Is it going to be quicker this time? Fingers crossed. Home here I may go.

Free from drip

Is it the baguette and ham speed cure? Or just the body getting quickly used to chemo? The reality is that I am now (Saturday 14:00) free from the drip. Earlier than the previous time. The body already eliminated the traces of chemo. Uff!!!! Feel less of a water fountain. Still blocked in the isolation room, but at least slghtly freer. This is the second time in a week that I conclude how impressive our body is. On Tuesday the red cells went low and the doctors decided to give me a blood transfusion. I was a bit shocked as I never had a blood tranfusion and felt, for the first time, that strange external blood would run through my veins. Almost felt like a jehova and tempted to refuse. For some, maybe bureaucratic reason, the blood tranfusion went forgotten and I even insisted on it. And two days after I didn't need it anymore!!

Back to isolation

Like a misbehaved inmate. Though I don't misbehave. I think they even miss me in the corridors (I am young, smile, don't run around in delirium and I am low maintenance, who would say that!). This time, at least, I get a view of the city and not the hospital hall and avoid being tortured by the sound of coffee downstairs at "Costa". I just noticed I could get a job as traffic controller for the British airtraffic authorities for the period of my isolation! Does it pay to count the number of aircrafts I see from my window ? There is one a minute at least.

Nightmare in the ward

The last two nighst at the ward have been pretty busy, like in hollywood action busy. Main character: Manel on the left. The poor man has been isolated, is in deep pain and is loosing it as well. Two nights ago the agony was too much to bear. His screams waking up everyone and clearly his speech was not choerent anymore. Taking into account that he is Portuguese I got the worst of his delirium, since I was the one understanding it. Not nice to watch or hear. It is enough to suffer, but to loose your mind as well is a bit too much. This last night things got even worst. He tried to leave the hospital, kicked everyone and started moving from the corridor into the ward where the three remaining of me and my colleagues hided in panick under our sheets awaiting for him to jump on us. Quite a possibility, since not even his wife could stop him. He is quiet now...days are quiet. And he is a Benfica fan, at least he shouted Benfica while in deliirium. I knew there had to be something wrong with him.

Food, food, food, visions of food

I am now in that stage where I guess I would beat any pregnancy instinct for food. I only think of food. I switch on TV and there is...food. I eat, I want more. I may end up attacking B5's Indian delicatessens. Smells so good. But, obviously that with chemo all this food visions are hallucinations. I can't eat all I want. So in order to keep me sane, I am listing what I need to do next (not in order of priority not to offend anyone) when I am out of here:
- Stuff myself in pizza Mamma Roma in Brussels;
- A calamar salad at "Fin de Siecle" in Brussels;
- Mum and sisters food in great quantity. Roasted and more roasted home raised chicken. And lodds of bacalhau;
- Antonio's pasta;
- a piece of traditional baguette with cheese, ham and butter.....yummie!
- Japanese Canteen chicken terriaki;
- a egg bacon sandwich for breakfast (now I am really gone into a British acculturation);
- a Paul grille pomme;
- some Whole Foods after gym;
- "Number 1" thai food;
- The chicken curry at Busaba Eathai;
- Sara's and Ahmet's comfy food and cakes;
- and my food of course.

Oh God! Better stop. This is too painful.

It is snowing

Yep, it is snowing outside (inside only a lot of fluids and chemo going again through my hickman line). It won't stay...the snow. But it is nice as a prelude of a white Chritsmas. My large window view is complete with a now massive sea of lillies. The Kentucky friend of Mr B2 is very extravagant, very good friend and sent him 5 huge bouquets of lillies. I just hope my nose can cope with such garden once all these flowers start blossoming. Bckground music...the wife of B5 reciting some kind of religious book. Pretty annoying really. The rythmn is a killer. Shall I start revicing the Bible like an American TV evangelical presenter or simply histerically praised the Lord? Oh! No. She is now singing. Let me try to sleep a bit.

7am blood pressure calls

Couldn't they do it at 8? Maybe 8.30? Is there a good chance my heart decides to stop around 7ish and their statistics go bananas? Message is, let me....try...to sleep. But around 7am I start hearing the assistants approaching the ward. Mr this, Mr that blood pressure. B3 Mr Ferreira blood pressure. "Hi, what time is it?" "7am darling" "Bit early don't you think?". But she is funny. As we approach Christmas I believe yhey recruit external staff for this as I don't know these new faces. In this case it is a black lady with a very funny accent. She recalls me the song of Mika where there is a lady speaking before he starts singing. Let's see if I can reproduce it here (listen below around minute 4:12). And she left me for another Mr this blood pressure. The conversation with Mr M. turns into scrambleg eggs, bacon. Christ! give me a break. Do I really have to hear all this? Just stuff is mouth with the blood pressure machine and make sure his heart runs. And do it quickly.

Where days finish. Or nights start?

My count of pills finishes or starts. Yesterday I reached 13. Could be worst. A new pill for stomach protection, though I didn't realize that protection meant transforming the poor organ into a unmovable stone. Which added to intestine cramps it promised a rocky night. Finally, I admitted I need half a sleeping pill to force me to sleep. Still managed to wake up three times. Reason being the intestine problems. The cramps only show up during the last cycle in the last three days. Spooky!! They are starting now. I literally felt each piece of lunch steak flowing through each cm of intestine and if you recall well your biology classes, the intestine is a long tunnel. Couldn't I simply get some fireman pump thrown into my mouth to give me massive flash of water and wash away any possible food? It would be quicker at least than the painkillers. I did order them, but the nurse was slow or forgot it. By that point of despair I felt like using the good title of this blog and shout from my B3 boot: " Nurse , where the fuck are those fucking painkillers". But I did control myself and just used the beep again. There she comes "Hi love here you go" by when my brain was already in the mode "fuck off and next time be quicker". Lol

I am full, like in stomach full

Weekend at home was another opportunity to stuff myself. But the chemo takes it toll on the food I eat. Having been used all my life to eat what I want and in the quantity I want without putting an extra kilo, it would be a bit unfair now to re-educate myself due to chemo. Probably it will come. Not too much food to avoid indigestion, not too little to avoid getting weak!! I can hear the complains of you less unfortunate to whom that extra bread or delicious piece of chocolate cake implies a regime or extra sports. Not good old Miggy. So, feeling today like having another steak at Sophie's was a troublesome experience. The quantity was the same as usual, same old 10' ribeye, french fries and salad. The outcome was painful. An entire afternoon resting and waiting digestion to follow its course. Maybe I need to start eating more slowly. No even hospital managed yet to make me loose old habits. For those of you in the City, I gag for a Japanese Canteen Chicken Terriaki, yummie! It comes second in top wishes after my Portuguese bacalhau. This one I will kill over Christmas, the terriaki as soon as I go back to work. Not a good idea to try it before. Not cold.

My new me

What I used to look like and what I look like now. Pick and choose.

Back home for weekend

Another rest at home. Though I start thinking if it is a good idea. After all in two days I am back to that food. If you missed the beginning of this blog (where have you been anyway?) I started by loving the food, then igonring it, still don't hate it, but I am not far. Reason why, yesterday, taking advantage that everyone was in the spirit of Christmas parties, I also had mine with a steak at Sophie's Steakhouse, my steak hideaway in Fulham Road. www.sophiessteakhouse.co.uk. It is so good to go to a place where they know you, they give you a big smile, know what you want. Basically treat you like a loyal customer. Exactly like in Brussels, isn't it? I need to share this one with the ones of you that didn't have the chance to know yet one of the best pearls of Belgian service. I am with a friend at "Pain Quotidien" Avenue Louise. It is 09:50, though I hadn't realize. We order a ham/cheese sandwich. "Oh! non desole, on sert pas des tartines avant 10 heures!!!!" - meaning sorry mate no sandwiches before 10. My friend was pretty shocked having realized it was 09:50. And hell, it could have been 08:00, a sandwich is a sandwich, a bit of cheese and ham in a bread. But, not in Belgium. In order to complete the scene, he girl proposes to bring the bread, the ham and the cheese...all separate. Which she did!!!!!! Now do you think she even realized our shock and how stupid she looked? I can answer, she didn't. There are more stories, if you wish.

And mortals we are

The guy that was in isolation room and covered in tubes, had a a lung cancer. Had. He passed away yesterday. I could hear the family crying, but the staff plays it so discrete that you don't see what is going on. Then the door of the room was closed. And later in the evening they were taking the bed out of the room that became empty. Empty! Some hours before there was still a thin sign of life. 38 years old. American. Doctors kept him alive overnight so that the family could arrive from US and spend his last minutes at his side. We are here and all of a sudden we are not anymore.....the vulnerability of life. A fine line....

I can't complain can I?

Judging by the 5 minutes the doctors spend with me everyday I think I can conclude I am doing well. They come in, how are you, fine, any questions? no questions, oh you are doing well. And they leave. But not everyone around me is in the same situation. One of the Maneis has the biopsy wound infected and it is getting difficult to heal. The British lad in front of me looks ok, but has back pain, had an heart attack, the nerves over the eye leaving him seeing double and cause him chest pain. The British toff (judging by his ring on the small finger) is ready to go home but kidneys block him. The Indian gentleman is pretty blocked and the other day his eyes were a bit bizzare, I thought he was dying. I think it was just pain and despair. On one of the isolated rooms there is a guy covered in tubes. I heard a lot of crying today from family and friends. In between the Christmas tree is being set up. Business as usual. The show must go on. Bottomline, if something shitty happens to you today, give a deep breath, think there is someone, somewhere in deep shit and you are just doing fine. Move on or take a break. There is only one thing that has no solution. Death. And it is also our biggest certainty. Poor mortals.

Back to chemo

With so many stories around the Maneis, you may not know that I am back on chemo since Monday. Exactly the same cycle as the previous time. A first easier week with intrathecal's and 15 minutes intravenal chemo. But as I like things well organized I was not very pleased that the chemo last Monday started at 19:00 instead of 15:00 like last time and that they have changed my the doctore for the intrathecal. After all Dr. E. had given already three injections and I was used to her. Yesterday the doctor changed and I fell a bit tense. This reflected on feeling more the anesthetics. But still OK. Compared to last time I feel a bit more nausea, but again nothing dramatic. With chemo the beard is not growing, but is not falling eitehr, so I shaved it as well. My head finally looks like a perfect egg. At least the eyebrows and eyelashes are still there. And then there was the facing of the first meal at hospital after 5 days at home. I passed the test and could eat. Despite they give me steroids again, there is no way I will comment that the food is excellent like during my first week here.


Cultural note: TV has the basic English channels, 2 Arabian and 1 Indian. The Indian is a kind of MTV showing all the time Bollywood style clips. If you never watched Bollywood style clips I incentive you to do it. Visually it is extremely rich (the coreography, the clothes, the colours), women are all gorgeous, men so so. The sound and vocals are a bit of the same after 2 or 3 songs unfortunately. A lot of tiri tiri, that changes into siri siri, into piri piri song after song.

Maneis have found me

:-(
I am sure that the Portuguese assistant M.I. couldn't resist telling Manuel on the left and Manuel in front that the guy on their side yesterday was also Portuguese. This despite me asking her for her silence. Mistake, I did not pay her silence. Today I got the visit of Manuel in front. Nice and quiet guy, just came to bring me a paper I forgot. Meaning good excuse to establish the contact. Then I went to the loo and came accross Manuel on the left. OMG, I know now what he thinks of the NHS, doctors, all his treatments, the last 5 months of problems, how his glandule went from a olive size to an orange size.....and what an headache I had at the end. Each time, I tried, to interrupt him, he would say "listen, listen' (Portuguese: "ouca, ouca") and would go on. Am I like this as well? After this episode I had a team building session with myself around my previous visits and I realized that I told them non stop everything about my situation from the GP meeting to the moment I saw the person!!! I should maybe re-assess and ask visitors if they have any questions. Lol. At least they were both nice and did not expose my silence yesterday. i said i had a lot of headache and had to rest. Manuel on the left, in his typical Portuguese sofa coach approach, said: "Oh I realized it, you looked so white". Thank you mate, at least I don't look a bit greyish like you.

A5 neighbours

As advanced the ward is busy and I have been allocated bed A5, which stands in the middle :-( There are 6 beds in the "room". Three on one side, three on the other. As I was settling, I realized the something was familiar. There were two other Portuguese patients around. So, I have Manuel on my left and Manuel in front of me. Both on their 50's. And there is a Pepe on my right side, maybe Spanish, But bit quiet for a Spanish, not the usual trac trac trac trac. Manuel in front is quiet, but Manuel on the left is a chatty character. He simply doesn't stop. He beats me in all fronts. I contained myself and did not introduce myself, better go undercover and avoid that Manuel on the left starts harrassing me with bullshit conversation. Apart from that, going undercover allows me to listen to their conversations. As they think they are alone, the pearls that come out of their mouth are precious. They look like two old villager ladies chatting on all possible subjects with no end. Oh! and Manuel on the left's mobile is loud, he is louder, he whistles. Additionally, both exchange views on anything accross the room like if they are at their local caffe. Manuel on the left has just received the visit of Maria. She also gets pretty loud on the mobile. She couldn't hear apparently, so we had participate all in her call. Things start getting interesting when she decides that the staff are not treating Manuel on the left properly and has a row at the nurse. "These clowns are doing nothing, they will see, I will teach them a lesson. Always the same. They start taking care of patient and leave it in the middle". She turns to the nurse and says: "You are finishing with Manuel right? Today, not in three hours? He wants to know if its before midnight. Do you understand? Before midnight". The nurse turns her back and Maria says that British can not understand our humour! The three agree staff have a very...British humour. Lol. They also ellaborate on population numbers in Portugal and England and emigration. They refer to emigrants as "those foreigners". They forget they are emigrants themselves. Maria asks Manuel in front: "Do you know other awards in this hospital?" She means wards. Sweet! And they start ellaborating on the cleaning of the ward. Cleaning seems to be a national obession, even for me. It must be years of "cleaning lady" type of jobs. Not that I have done that one, yet! They are now, the three, in the best style 'Gato Fedorento" comedy, reviewing each ones diseases and problems like in a competition: who has the most and the worst problems? The three are the typical Portuguese emigrant I am afraid - despite years abroad they did not assimilate anything from the new culture, they remain the same Manuel and Maria of the little village or even big city back home. Sad. Being a villager boy myself, I know what I am saying and I can confirm the thesis of human evolution. Lol. So, I impatiently wait to be moved to bed B3, by the window and hope they do not understand I am 'one of them".

Back to hospital

10:00 am is back to hospital, blood samples, blood pressure, weight, questionnaires (better be sure if you haven't changed your religion in the last 5 days!!) you did not get allergic to any of the medicine, re-check all the medicine you are taking and so on. Prof B. introduces me to Poppy (fictional name) , another youung trainee, this time with an extra ...she is the daughter of Dr. N. Everyone goes around saying hi, maybe to make sure there are no complains to her father. Poppy is... how to describe her? A cheerful girl, with a big smile and a big flower in her hair...and a mini skirt. I just have no clue what is her role. Didn't bother to ask. We have a laugh at each other with the help of Prof. B. that is on his usual good mood. He explained the next three weeks. A possible need for radiotherapy at the end (re-assured me I won't be disformed) and the fact that chemo is working. Yuppie. Moved to the ward, where they got me a bed in the middle (meaning not on the window, not on the corridor - the ones I prefer). Oh, no!!! But it seems they have managed to get me another bed, this time at the window later today. I am writting another post on my ward neighbours. You will understand why I don't like beds in the middle. Chemo restarts in about an hour. A short 15 minutes shot.

Change of skin

?!
Before it was the hair falling like a dog changing its hair. Now the skin is breaking like a snake...changing skin. What's next? Everything falls apart and a new me emerges? Like a larva giving space to a butterfly?

Silence

Being at home, just stuffing myself, reading and checking e-mails, leaves me not much to say. So shall remain silent till Monday when I go back to hospital and all starts again.

"Faux pas"

When I moved apartments I wrote to my Portuguese bank informing them. They came back saying that they could only do the change in person at a branch (in Portugal) or over the phone! Slightly irritated I wrote them back saying something like: "Dear XX, I am currently in hospital, in London curing a cancer. It will be difficult to go to a branch in Portugal and I don't find beneficial for my chemo to spend my time queuing on the phone. Consequently, you have the info, so do with it what you want. If you need to find me, try and you may be lucky....". I was very proud of my answer. Today I get a message from my branch in Viatodos, saying all is fixed and wishing me all the best for my treatment. Nice...nice? STUPID, I was very stupid. I went saying to the bank that I have a cancer. Very smart move. Try now to get a health insurance or loan from them Miguel, try. Grrrrrrrrr!!!!!! In order to compensate for this, I am back home eating my food...no loss of appetite whatsoever. Went to hospital for another intrathecal. Went OK as usual, but feeling a bit tired now (10 hours after). The girl next door was less lucky, kept screaming as soon as she saw the needle. I guess they had difficulties finding her veins.

01/12/1640

01/12/1640 The Portuguese finished with the Spanish rule (80 years that should be deleted from history). The traitors were killed and the Filipe's reign in Portugal finished. National holiday. I love my few Spanish friends, but I also love my country...independent, always. Long live Portugal, the oldest nation in Europe.

8

For the first time, in three entire weeks, I managed to sleep 8 hours in full with no interruptions. Quite an achievement. I think I even had an headache. Then I rushed to Costa for a hot chocolate. A proof of my new freedom. But it was a bit chilly (just realized how hot it was in that room) so decided not to stay in the ground floor.
Fait divers: Doctor with a good eye (after the doctor with a good nose): one of the generic doctors comes to me and asks where did I get my robe from? Well I said 'It was G. that gave it to me. I think he has stolen it from some Portuguese hotel. Though G. will say it was given to him as he is a very exquisite guest". Then gave some shop tips to the doctor. I think I have made a friend. Lol.
Note: I initially wrote rope and not robe. Lol My English sometimes falls short or my brain goes too fast and mixes the letters.

Monday debriefing

1 - Neutrophils crazily rock. From a 0, 0, 0, 0 daily level, they were at 0.3 yesterday and are today at 5. The doctor told me and I said, 'Do you mean 5 like in FIVE?" Yes and I can go home. Yuppie! It appears that with the daily injections they give to boost the neutrophil levels, once it goes up, it can go up really steep. I have been having these injections for a week. I might go from no immune system to a superman one. Then Prof B. came around and said that my kidneys need fluid so I need to stay overnight and be fed more liquids. More fluid? I have never drunk 3 litters of water a day like I am doing now. I am even afraid my body may reject a good glass of wine once I am out of here. But, thats's OK, I still go home tomorrow and only return on Monday for more chemo.
For your information a normal person has its neutrophils level between 2 and 10. Want to know more.? Check: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neutrophils
2 - Spine gets wild. As a side effect of the neutrophils injections I could have bone pain. Never had it until yesterday when started feeling the bottom of the spine going wild. Like if someone was forcinga needle and at each 2 seconds I felt a shock wave of little pain come out of there. Just little pain, but uncomfortable. Doctor stopped the injections. Maybe I had too much already.
3 - B. tells me to eat more and better. Friends are here for this. To give you good advice and strength. But eat more and better? In a hospital? That is like going to MacDonalds and asking them to prepare you something a bit different, chunkier potatoes and maybe a true steak instead of an hamburger. More and better will be at home, stuffing myself in my, as well as A.'s food.
4 - Doctor with a good nose. A new doctor (man) comes around during the weekend, does his thing, washes his hands and goes like "I can smell Jo Malone in the air". I look at the the doctor (woman), she looks at me and I say " Yes Jo Malone lime" (my perfume), and he goes 'lime, basil and mandarine". And the woman doctor "I am impressed by your nose". Lol, some doctors can smell more than diarrhea and vomiting after all, even catch a Jo Malone in the air. How refreshing.
5 - Heartbeat. My heartbeat is always above average in the morning at 9:00 than in the evening. Considering you should have slept during the night I wonder what is going on with my dreams/nightmares that is so demanding from my heart.

Setting the record straight

Some of you, when reading the previous posts, might get the idea that treatment is a ride in the park. Believe me it is not. Not in the two last nights, at 2 am and 1 am, respectively, when I woke up with abdominal pain. Had to wait for the paracetamol to act, impossible to sleep, no body position in bed allowing to stop the pain and so on. The good news is that paracetamol is effective, you sleep a bit over it and in the morning the pain of some hours ago is already far away. Though it might come back. Like in the gym, with treatment, no pain no gain. Also, I have been loosing weight. My opinion is that it is concentrated on muscle since I don't gym for more than a month. I am eating OK, but I am in a hospital right? Did anyone ever get weight in a hospital? Any sinners can come upfront and tell us their experience?

THU FRI SAT Neutrophils 0

Thursday 0
Friday 0
Saturday 0
Boring! This means my immune system is non existent. And they can't send me home for a rest out of hospital. All this despite a boost injection they give me every night on any fatty part of me! Is there any of that on me? Je...there is a bit in the belly. Need to work out more at the gym. Lol. Sorry, need to go is X-Factor time.

Bald is the new black

After a shower where I thought I would have lost all my hair I looked at the mirror (and surprise surprise there was still loads of it) and I decided to take the matter in my hands. I shaved my head. Started with the sides. Looked Ok, bit mohican, but thought 'Miguel you are playing tricks, you need to go all the way', and I did. I am now bald. Not sure if I would make it a trend, but looks OK. Thank God I like myself, in any circumstances. Lol.

Be nice...but not too nice

True story 1
I heard a violin at my door. Strange, since usually music is played in the hall of the hotel and when the last hour arrives it should be in the form of a white lady to welcome you to heaven, not a violin. Anyway, the nurse confirmed there was someone indeed playing in the ward. 5 minutes after they were literally at my door and I thought it would be nice to retribute with my presence. So I went to the door, smiled and applauded at the end. It was a Pakistani trio. Maybe Indian, I couldn't distinguish from the dressing and instruments. A nurse apologized, I said it was perfectly fine. And she turned to them, 'good, good, you can play 2 more". Heyyyy! 2 more at my door? Its cool but don't over do it.
True story 2
The cleaner, male (Indian, this time he said it himself. I didn't have to guess and miss it), decided to establish conversation for the first time. Wrong subject. "You are loosing hair" - yes I am loosing it, indeed it is everywhere! Next: "where are you from?". The rest was a bit a try and guess what was being said because I could not understand him to the point where he said something, I said something like "mhm mhm" and he looked at me for an answer. "Sorry, (I admitted) what did you say?". In between we both agreed we would love to visit our countries. Though I could not really be 100% sure if he already visited mine. At least he could establish the link Goa and Portugal. "Oh Goa, yes I need to go there as it used to be Portuguese" I said. I hope he didn't take too bad my property over that part of India. And then another pearl, he says "Portugal is very clean" (so he might have gone there after all!), more than England. England is very dirty!!! He must know what he is saying.
True story 3
I lost my head and decided to share a Pierre Marcolini chocolate (thanks P.) with one of the assistants. Again what a mistake. she is from Philippines and kept a strong Asian accent....we could not understand each other. We had an absurd, but short exchange. "You need to try these wonderful Belgian chocolates that a colleague got me from Brussels" I said. "Ah! nice friend post chocolates from Brazil, nice" She said. "Well not Brazil, he sent them from Brussels, Belgium" I said . " Nice, nice. (she looks at the package) Ah he courriered or posted? No post." She said. By then I was pretty lost. I have a box of PM chocolates , were they posted or delivered in hand? Who cares, they are so goooood!. Lol

Note: Going through this post I can think of some politically correct British minds thinking : OMG what a prejudice, racist bastard. Well lets face it we are all from different nationalities. The ones mentioned above are the real ones, but could be totally different and still make for the same story. And the simple fact is that we could not understand each other. In the benefit of the doubt about my pure intentions my Portuguese assistant here in the ward is also quite a character and her English is not great other. So I need to do a post on her.

Prof. B. is a funny guy

And above is a top oncology expert. He insists, in a funny way, to tell everyone (literally 5 people and different each time he comes around) that I am a BANKER. Banker like in making millions, betting the poor lives of the common citizen and driving governments bankrupt. Today he even risked, "are you making a million?". I am afraid not, I said. Of course I didn't want to reveal that I am making more (lol). You never know if they decide to teach a lesson to the City via my chemo :-). But today he was inspired and not only decided to play with my magazine taste, he also gave a lesson to his students in front of me. How to cure my mouth. So he raised questions and even I tried to answer it. But then he lost me with the technicalities. It was less funny when he said that the guys to whom he gave these new products one turned blue and the other red. I pass thank you. I hope he was just having a go at me. Anyway, the best news, they might send me home over the weekend for a few days to rest from hospital. That is great I can finally stretch from my front door to the end of the living room instead of from my bed to the bathroon (within the same room). Oh....and gloves and napperons (blue) apply to everyone except professors and their team. Lol. They simply don't use it when they come together. The strength of the team must kill upfront the bacteria. Don't get me wrong, they are all fantastic.

Soul, stomach and intestine

C. asked me how do I feel inside and I thought, well, soul or stomach and intestine? Soul is good. Stomach and intestine could go better. Lol. If you ever had a dog and recall what the house looks like when he starts loosing hair, that is exactly what is going on in my room. If a normal person has 100,000 hairs (though I guess I was already in the range 70,000) I must be now loosing 20,000 a day. It is quite a show. I am ok about it...so far. The neutrophiles insist in being extremely low. For as long as they are low I am confined to the isolation room. I can not stretch much. I can hear the coffee being made at Costa downstairs, but I can not go there, I can hear the music shows going on at lunchtime, but I can not watch them. Hopefully all will change in a matter of days. The hospital doesn't stop surprising me. Exhibitions, music shows. The singer today was particularly excited and noisy. And I am afraid the repertoire were Christmas songs. I hope they don't repeat it every single day or I will feel I am working at some Harrods.
Note: in case your busy lives (not to mention your kids) have kept you away from new movies, singers....these are a few items to watch:
Music
Florence and the Machine (British pop), Pixie Lott (more British pop), Paloma Faith (yes more very good British pop)
Movies
"A Single Man" by Tom Ford (yes the ex-Gucci, the man is a genius...if he was British he would be our hero, since everyone here is a hero).
TV
BBC - School of Saatchi. Big investor goes big brother style. 6 new artists are selected to produce art, one only will win and be sponsored by Saatchi (yes the one that used to be on advertising, got hyper rich, buys nonsense art - in my opinion- and makes millions. Good for him).

I am free again

Meaning, just no drip full time. Ufffff! I can finally go to the loo alone and should not be disturbed as much by nurses to change the bottles of the drip. Neutrophills start picking up reallly slowly, white cells are on the up, allergy is still on, mouth still destroyed and it is a bit difficult to eat, hair started falling. But today the only thing that matters is that I am free from the drip. Rome was not made in a day. 1 step at a time.

My mouth is a war zone

Not that I started swearing, but the chemo has attacked my gums (typical apparently). It looks like an Iraqi market in suicide attack day. Bearable, but not pleasant, especially that recovering from it takes some days. The drip is still working since the chemo decided not to leave me. According to the blood test results I am almost there but not exactly, so still have an extra day of drip prison. And got an alergy in the chest that can not be immediately associated to anything. Maybe the plasters covering the hickman line. Lunch and dinner today were divine...not!!! And forgetting the gums problem I choose each time food with tomato sauce. Very smart.
Note: for those of you that live in London or those who are coming, don't miss (I will) the exhibition of Anish Kapoor at the Royal Academy of Arts. I saw a documentary on BBC and it is massively impressive. The man took over the entire academy with huge sculptures, very colourful and amazing.

Quiet weekend

The body is recovering well from chemo. Though the levels are still high in the blood, which means I am still stuck with the drip. After feeling a bit frustrated for my continuous lack of physical freedom, I think I just got used to it. S. visited and brought me a little Christmas decoration. The support of the drip starts looking like a Christmas tree. M. is also visiting. You should see them with the gloves and naperons supposed to protect me from external factors. Yes, because my immune system is currently at 0. Nothing to worry too much. I am still functioning but could be easily exposed to infections. Well, an alergy is already declared in the zone of the hickman line. Nothing major though. Appetite is coming back, though I must admit that I could only find the food really good in the beginning because of the ...steroids. Indeed, they gave me steroids and that is why I kept eating like if the world was ending. Now, I can say the food is pretty reasonable, but not better than mine, my mum's or my friends!!!! Antonio I miss your pasta. Steroids, paracetamol and anti-sickness all wonderful. I fear I might be addicted by the end of the treament which could mean an extra detox at some Betty Ford clinic. And the rest has been reading newspapers (did you ever realize how big - waste of paper - weekend newspapers are in this country?) and watching X-Factor. The wonders of hospital. And I still have how many months of this?

Another day. More of the same.

Same old stuff. At least now I know what to expect. Chemo just follows its natural course. Tomorrow they should take me out the drip meaning that the levels of chemo in the blood are OK. This should make me feel a bit more free, though I am still confined to the isolation room to avoid infections. So, pretty blocked. And so warm, but at least there is a fen. The view from my room gives to an internal hospital hall, stairs, lifts, staff going up and down. And this huge decoration with giant colourful leaves and birds. Interesting. Sleeping it is still pretty much a vision due to the requirements of the medical procedures.

Time to pay

After so many posts on how well things are going, how good food is, chemo decided to teach me a lesson. Now I know what is to be on the down side. There are ups and downs as they say, all depends on the person, nobody will escape a bit of chemo roughness, but I had apparently been lucky so far. So, if you are sensitive move on. Saving you the details. I couldn't sleep at all last night feeling like an indigestion. To start I thought too much food. Then stomach just hurted too much. Nausea followed. Should I try to vomit or not? The nurse said I better not and gave me a little pot of beautiful but very untasty pink liquid to calm the stomach. 1, 2, 3 and vomit. InstantaneousIy. It seems that was not the result expected, but oh my god, what a relief. Bit more pain, but could try to sleep at last. Since I didn't really sleep, the next hours were a mix of tiredeness, headache, stomach pain and nausea. So, back to antisickness. For the first time I had to have lunch really slowly like if each portion would be expelled straight away. Then spent the next two hours starring at the drip till I got to 14:35, the 24 hour chemo was stopped. Again, what a massive relief. Next week there is more, but that is next week. In relation to last night the good news is that memory is short, so we say in Portugal. I am now ok and that is what counts. Lesson 1: always expect the unexpected and always ask for support to deal with it. When the nurse told me the indigestion feeling was part of the chemo, I thought wait a second this was not part of the script. Nausea and vomiting yes, but not indigeston. Lesson 2: forget fast and just recall what may be needed in future, like the antisickness.

In a liquid state

And I am not talking about going to a pub. I am literally in that part of the universe creation where some little creature moved from water to the soil and gave place to something human. My inner body is a tsunami in the making. In the silence of the night I can feel the chemo moving through the hickman line making its way through the jugular, all blood system and running through my stomach, intestine and with an incredible precision wakes me up at 02:20, 04:20 and 06:22 to go to the loo. Pee, drink, drip pee, drink, drip, pee, drink, drip, pee, drink, drip. I could make a job out of this. In between I volunteer to measure what I drink, at least keeps me busy. A British breakfast, full options, keeps me going through another now massive dose of chemo that will run for 24 hours. Sleepy I make it through the preparatory mixures they give me of washers and paracetamol. All very patiently executed. You should see the art of a nurse moving from a needle to another, injecting, cleaning. At 14:35 the famous methroxatane (I am sure this is wrongly spelled) goes down the veins. Bit nasty one apparently as gets mouth soar and eventually with ulcers. No signs yet, but still have 19:29 hours to go! Mouthwashers should help. And it is confirmed, cell count is pretty low, as expected. Extra care needed with food (nothing uncooked, extra care with anything prepared at home), get a toilette just for me, can't walk in all parts of ward and they will prepare an isolated room. No sick visitors as of now until I recover in a few days. Oh almost forgot the trainee doctor visit. At a point I felt asking him to sit and I would take the driving sit of the consultation. Half way the assessment (!?) the guy says 'oh, so you know you have cancer'?. And I am like mate 2+2=4, nope? I had told him I have a lymphoma and I am doing chemo from the beginning of the conversation and he was still figuring out how to bring me to the conclusion that I have a cancer? Hellllooooo!!!!! And finally if you never tried potassium, try. It is very blase. I have to put up my levels of potassium and the nurse starts explaining that tastes a bit bad, but I should be ok. Well I took it as if it was coke. I mean coca cola. I don't know what they are doing to me, but anything goes really, anything. At this rate bring me anchovies...in powder. Lol

Under the leash

Like a little dog (or even a big one) leashed to his doghouse, I am finally stuck with a drip for 4/5 days. Leashed to a machine that follows me everywhere. We look like a pair of dancers. Should maybe try strictly come dancing. The liquid flows at a good rythmn. Requirement to balance the kidneys before a new round of 24 hours of chemo starting tomorrow. I have to account for all I drink and no need to mention that I have now tried all loos available, several rounds. The night seems promising. The afternoon break for cakes, tea and sandwiches (oh good all British traditions perpetuated here by the MacMillan volunteers) is a blessing. If If I did not get a few pounds by now than I will never get it, ever in my life.
Note: Internet is back. So welcome it was that even my heartbeat improved.

Monday 16 more of the same

Just ten minutes chemo.No web access. Grrr!!! Eat, walk, read, write and had an haircut. Better prepare the possible loss by avoiding going on a dramatic ride from hairy cave man to the army style. Visit by S.and her wonderful cake. Doctors and more doctors, all smiles, all good.Nurses excited with all the mail I get. Bit of a stomach rough nite, not great to mix greek salad with mixed side leaf salad. Green overdose.

No food complains

For the ones that know me, it does not come as surprise that I can be a bit fussy about food. Not fussy, for being fussy, but a bit of Portuguese fussy. If you know what I mean. Fish would need to be typical from Portuguese markets, so no saumon. No lamb, no uncooked stuff and so on. So, to be in a hospital ward...in London and have no complains about food is quite remarkeable. I need to pay my visit to the chef one of these days. Let me give you a flavour of my choice and yes I do have a choice. Breakfast started with scrambled eggs and toasts. Lunch there is a choice of potato & leek soup, potatoe salad or plaice goujons (need some help from google here). Then beef casserole, grilled fillet of plaice, braised pork chops with apples or mushroom stroganoff. Served with lemon rice, roast potatoe, seasonal vegetables or mixed leaf side salad. And to finish fresh fruit salad, carrot cake, savoury cheese & water biscuits (no savoury cheese for the Portuguese man here ever), flavoured jelly or icecream. Not tired? Ready for dinner choices? Chicken soup with bread roll, greek salad or cheese & coleslaw salad. Sheperds pie, seafood risotto, roast chicken sage jus or vegetable korma. Served with savoury/plain rice, saute potatoe, seasonal vegetables or mixed leaf side salad. And for desert fresh fruit salad, apple crumble with cream or custard, the cheese, jelly or icecream. Uffff!! And, not only there is choice, but all is indeed savoury and with pepper and salt. Not the typical untasty hospital food. To complete, staff (nurses, team leaders) are all apologetic if something goes wrong. I heard already this morning J. the team leader apologize to a patient, not less than three times, because the chef stopped doing something for breakfast. But again, it seems that all this treatment is really for lymphoma alikes sufferers. Not all wards are this well equipped. Thank you lymphoma for your pleasantries. Final word, I hope "LEAN" never gets into this ward or poor patients risk to end up with a streamlined food production, proposing then chicken or fish, no pepper, no salt. lol

Note: web quit on me on my computer. I am almost silenced.

Weekend at home in family

Like a true Pacha. Me sitting in the sofa and please pass me the water, please get me this, now please get me that. And mum and sister cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, ironing. Despite my atempts to save some cleaning for the cleaning lady that comes over next week. She will have a good life that one. Saturday dinner...bacalhau. Oh! the wonders of Portuguese codfish, boiled vegetables and potatoes. Nothing simpler, nothing more tasteful, dressed with a wonderful...Portuguese olive oil. Only problem mum decided to cook at 17:30...by 18:30 we were ready for dinner, after lunch at 14:30. The hospital can't beat this rythmn. But my appetite is unbeatable, so far. And to complete the weekend, G. went to pick up my "Expresso" (newspaper) at Lisboa. Now packing, not more not less than if I was going for a long weekend abroad, to return to hospital, for a rougher week. No clue on when I will get back home in the coming weeks, it will depend on the immune system and possible infections. I love my new apartment, pretty cosy. I shall miss my photo collection.

WW/SS collection 2010

White leggings are on the up. Today I was entitled to these socks that come up to your shoulders (nope, they stop close to your buttocks), but they keep on falling. I just miss a little accessorie like a bride to give that finish touch. Still under the influence of watching La Reine Margot yesterday I told the nurse and doctor that I looked like an old count. It seems, from their surprised faces, that the accent turn to be like and old cunt. Ops!!! That recalls me the other day when I met a client in the street that never saw me with beard and I started telling her a discussion on the phone with a friend where my accent took me from bear to bird to beard. The woman probably thought I was loosing it. Mum and sister arrived with my request of Portuguese codfish. Yummie!! Staff forgot my lunch which gave rise to my first burst, but then I thought behave, after all you will stay here long. Beefy curry. Not bad. Another 15 minutes of chemo, another intrathecal (still easy) and three hours waiting for medication so that I could leave hospital. At least staff compensate with smiles. And now I am resting in my bed at home. Home. My sheets, my pillows.

Try and stick a fork up your chest and neck!

Warning: English and Americans should read this as a joke, don't do this at home.

Today was time to introduce a hickman line (check the link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hickman_line*) in my chest up to my neck. This line is helpful as it allows to take blood and inject chemo without using multipe places/veins. Bit nervous, but again the staff is very nice, chatty. There were a few of them, anesthetic and off you go. Simple procedure, 15 minutes. You just feel slightly the doctor pushing the little tube up your main vein up to the neck. It is a bit a sensation like you stick a fork up your chest and neck. Nope. Don't try this one at home. It could go wrong. This was done straight after lunch and I thought can you do this with my stomach full? Clearly they can. Quick and easy. But after...you feel it a bit when drinking, eating, and laughing, so I have been trying to remain serious. They say the feeling will go away but just in case get me those painkillers nurse. After it was time for another 15 minutes drip. Oh and they shaved me for the line. Good laugh with the nurse shaving me and asking if I wanted more. No darling, chemo will take care of the rest. Ops, but when asked how long it would take to get hair back, she said maybe 6 to 12 months. What? I am naked without my hair. Where does my latino look goes? No more open shirts? Lol. I hope she is wrong.


*wait a second...my doctor didn't tell me that one of the possible secondary effects is thrombosis. I need to re-check what I have signed for. I don't sign for thrombosis, oh no I don't

Non eventful day

Very quiet. Just 15 minutes of chemo. Reading and eating. But the times of food kill me. 6pm? I almost didn't digest lunch. And then started exploring the hospital to stretch the legs. In going in and out of the ward I had an encounter with three little plastic bags with white powder! Cocaine? Maybe I should have taken it and started a business out of my hospital bed. Lol. N. kept me company and I had the visit of K. that combined with the visit of the nurse that is from Gambia gave space to a discussion on progress of Africa, African political dynasties and the like. Who would have thought that hospital could be this interesting?

How could I forget today's luxuries

Yes, today I started getting a taste of good life at hospital. In the morning I had volunteers offering books from the library and another one offering to go shopping (supermarket, I would not trust them any other kind of shopping). Then cakes, sandwiches and tea and coffee. And top of the tops a reflexology massage. Put myself immediately down in the list of the ones that enjoy these luxuries, so that I will get a daily visit. Only problem the woman did speak more than I. How is that possible. And kept talking about of the oils she was using...the most expensive in the industry. Is that a message? I only enjoy freebbies. And, wait for this one, despite all the tubes they stick to me (well there are only two) I managed to have a shower. Did you ever stop in the middle of a shower to enjoy the simple act of a shower? The joys of feeling water running through my body, isn't this wonderful? It happened a similar thing some days ago when I was alone in my apartment looking through the window to the tree in front at the sunset. I found myself staring at a tree that has been there for three years and that has always been pretty irrelevant. How beautiful: sun, a tree, leaves. My message his, stop once in a while and LIVE something around you.

First downs and immediate recovery

Today you are entitled to a report on my night and full day. I shall not be to graphic. Lets try! 2am the intestine started hurting like if someone decided to squeeze it from beginning to end. I thought it was already, but nope it was 2am, promising. Felt nausea and thought OMG (Oh my God!) I will vomit in no time. Resisted. 4am more of the same and yes vomited...some green stuff. A beautiful green though. But it was a bit like vomiting after a terrible hangover, except that the dinner had been processed and I think I was expelling some kind of UFO material. Reported to nurses and got some antisickness pills. Could sleep fine. Breakfast at 9pm. Starving since dinner was at 6pm. In the meantime, Natalia got me the first war supplies. I am pretty equipped now for that little appetite in between meals. Around 3pm more drip with chemo, just 15 minutes and then...then the first intrathecal (spine injection). If any of you does it and tells me it is not easy you will be downgraded in my consideration. It is pretty easy. It was the anestetic that was a bit more "painful", but the full procedure was so manageable to the point that when they were injecting me the chemo I thought they hadn't started. Dinner at 6pm. Natalia left and I am writing you. I am surrounded by Italians and Americans. Thank God the Italians are quiet and there are no mammas around, but the Americans are their usual self speaking to the entire ward. So, Natalia and I stepped up the competition and chatted for 7 hours in a row (Ok, except 1,5 hour for lunch). Low volume but still uninterrupted. Lol. And now its is time to check my 7 LUX and Caras. Very important to keep updated with who is marrying, divorcing, getting cancers (Je! there are two covers on "stars" with cancers").

So far so good

First antibiotic intravenous and 5 minutes after I felt sick. But 5 minutes after I felt ok ...for the rest of the day. 5 hours of drip and the chemo finally arrived. Pretty simple. I was expecting some hard and scary machinery, but no, just a simple injection and drip. First liquid is red. 15 minutes of chatting with the nurse explaining what I do in life (she didn't really get it) while she pushed the liquid inside. Coolness to start. Then second and third boringly transparent via a drip. Like water, just more destructive and with curing effects of course. Chemo kills the cancer, but also kills the good cells, reason why throughout treatment there will be good and bad moments. So far so good. If chemo was always like today it would be a piece of cake. It won't though. First visitors... the mission, more than entertaining me, will be to get me food. The hospital cuisine is not that bad and there is choice, but is not enough for my current appetite. As of tomorrow I will start accumulating rations of snacks. Mmmm!! And I am more and more inclined to dispatch someone to get me a steak at Sophie's. I had a bit of warning at lunch time though. I better never miss my chance to choose the food! They come in the morning and in the afternoon so that you make your choice. The guys that came in later were left with no choice, so they had saumon and lamb. All I don't like. It looked like in a flight when they get to your place...the last one in the plane and go, sorry no more choice here you go this nice sandwich of cheese with cucumber. Of to watch some TV now and then sleep over chemo.

A chemo addict journey starts

I am officially in hospital since this morning. Blood tests, blood pressure, more explanation on chemo. I shall save you the details. What you need to know is that I am now staying for good. Treatment starts this afternoon. Hurrah. I am finally trying the wonders of chemicals running through my veins. You may want to know that some are organic. Very a la mode. Organic, no additives! Lol. You may also want to know that they have no visit restrictions and you can even see me while they inject me. A bit of "casal ventoso" ( a drug spot in Lisbon) in the making. And I can also send you out to get me some gooddies. For as long as I eat all is permitted. Going home? Only once in a while for two days and they can not say it upfront.
I am writting you as I eat the most...how to put it...most "special" pizza margherita I have ever eaten. But I am starving so anything goes. Oh by he way they will also stuff me with drugs to keep the appetite and I may even put weight. That is a first one for me...put weight. Excellent to explode a few buttons on the tight shirts. Or maybe not, my life now is more loose pyjamas. Lets see how the mood goes after the first chemo and bone marrow injections. Little detail, my pee will be red with one of the chemicals. How cool, but since I am a Porto fan I will check if we can make it blue.

Yuppie: bone marrow is fine

More good news. Going on like this they might tell me that after all the diagnostic was a mistake and I am just fine. I wish!
The bone marrow test came negative. Meaning my bones are hard stuff and resisted the lymphoma. So...more questions to ask to doctors and nurses, but now treatment needs to focus on a specific part and not on the full body.
Lymphoma 1 - Miguel 2 (PET+Bone Marrow tests). Though lymphoma plays at home, so its score is worth more. :-).
Life is good. Curious my TV is LG (=Life is Good). Maybe this is a sign. Let me go and look for more signs.

How Christmas all of a sudden becomes even more important

36 years old. Not a single year did I spend Christmas without my family. Of course there were special Christmas...the first without my grandparents from my mother side. They passed away both in the same year. The first one where my sisters had to go to their respective husbands' families. Though, being so possessive, we have been managing to get the guys to pay. The girls always should come to their families over Christmas. Then this year was already going to be special, since my father passed away in January. And I had to push boundaries by messing up the season. Christmas is so important as gathering that when I told my mother about my situation (soft approach) she didn't really get it, but the shock came when she understood I would not spend Christmas in Portugal. Family will be split this Christmas, without the traditional dinner and so on (we can always do a Christmas out of season) but it is for a good cause.
And all this to say that today in between post office, meter readings, calls to water, gaz and electricity providers, I saw Christmas decorations and thought I need gifts for my nephews and if the family comes to London I have no Christmas decorations at home. Not only there will be no "bacalhau" (let alone the massive pans required to cook it) and sweets like at home, but even no decorations. So, it was a rush rush to get gifts for the kids and those famous Christmas decoration.
Lol, I just recalled that my mother will finally get a revenge on me after spending years telling me to bring food with me from home. And me always saying: but mum if they loose my bag, my expensive clothes will be ruined. I can see her packing up...her own bag, full of Portuguese delicacies to make that special Christmas. It might be the same Christmas as usual after all.

And some good news: PET rocks!

Yes....some good news today in the middle of all this story. The PET results have arrived and my little friend is not spread. Maybe didn't like enough what he found and decided to stay local! Good for me. But still need to wait for the bone marrow results before being really happy. Because depending on the bone marrow then the treatment might be shorter (one cycle of treatment instead of two each time). The nurse didn't really expand on what shorter means. And would get some radiology to finish with it. La totale, chemo and radio. "All we need is radio gaga, radio gaga". Fingers crossed for a few more days.

Change of address/Mudanca de endereco

Dears/Carissimos,

As of 04/11/2009 my address changes from Flat 18B to XXX. I go down one floor. Same building.

A partir do dia 4 de Novembro o meu endereco muda de Flat 18B para XXX. Desco um piso no mesmo edificio.

Full address/ endereco:

Please ask me, since this blog is public.

Tragedy, a Portuguese state of mind

The other day I saw a TV programme (Portuguese) where they interviewed an Italian lady living in Portugal for several years. What she said next is an amazing illustration of the Portuguese approach to life. She said, you ask a Portuguese how he/she is doing. The answer is: "Oh! so so", "One day after the other", "Could go better". You should read this with a miserable face. You ask an Italian how he/she is doing. The answer is: "Excellent", "Perfect", Doing really well".
Bottomline, Portuguese always look miserable, Italians always look in perfect shape.
It must be our "fado", this Portuguese tragedy, that never allows us to be well, perfect, fantastic. There is always something wrong. Be happy is not an option. You are OK, then there must be something really wrong.
This leads me to my personal experience. What do I fear most: chemo or family reaction? Family reaction. In two days I was able to transform my sisters though. I think that my positive and practical approach to the situation left them with no alternative. Not to mention the very clear message that anyone approaching my hospital bed crying or sighting would be stopped by the nurses. But my mum! Oulala. She loves me and I love her, but she will want to visit me already with a priest on her side. Cancer doesn't match with cure. Apart that from all the cases around us with cancer she will be able to think at every single one that turned wrong. The successful cases are not part of our tragic mind.
Don't forget that I come from a village. You are sick? Then you stay home crying all day feeling really shitty. There is no way you go out and feel OK.
I must be the NEW Portuguese. Misery doesn't match with me. Tragedy may even play its tune when I listen to a "fado" (try Amalia Rodrigues, O Medo - fear) but it stops there. For me things can go well, especially until further notice. Right now I am ok, should I feel miserable? Chemo is going to be really rough, should I worry now? One thing at the time.
Challenge: if I transform my mum, it is half way to beat this lymphoma.

Amalia Rodrigues - O Medo

Who sleeps at night with me?
Who sleeps at night with me?
It is my secret, it is my secret
But if you insist I will tell you
Fear lives with me, fear lives with me
But only fear, only fear
(...)
Cry those who can save me
From what is inside me, I would even like to kill myself
but I know that he will wait for me, near the bridge of the end.

Sweet laziness

With my release from hospital now is back to sweet laziness at home. Sleep, eat, take medicine (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.....uff!) rest, eat slowly (by lunch stomach is paying back all the medicine), then rest, change wound dressing, read, watch tv, read, rest, cook and eat (usually much more appetite for dinner), watch tv and sleep.
IN CASE YOU HAVE MISSED IT I ONLY GO BACK TO HOSPITAL ON THE 9TH TO START TREATMENT. I need to cure the infection wound first.
I was not made for a lazy life. Not this one at least. Maybe for a different kind of lazy living on a tropical beach surrounded by friends and family.
It comes as no surprise that one of the main side effects of treatment, as described by nurses, is boredom.
Maybe this is the opportunity to see all those famous TV series that I managed to miss: LOST, Sex in the City, Ugly Betty...you name it and avoid anything to do with doctors and hospitals. My real experience will be enough as an insight into this domain.
Or maybe I can read some classics, nothing with more than 200 pages, or I may find them still unread at the end of the treatment.
One thing is certain I will use all the pampering they make available at hospital: massage, reflexology. I wonder is there manicure as well....maybe hairdresser? It could be useful to try some new hair do with the two or three hairs that will be left in my head in no time. As Kate, the nicest nurse I ever met, says hair will fall, but will come back. Mmmmm! is there any hope that will come back stronger and in greater volume? Lol
Loosing weight is a concern. After all there is not much to loose. Kate says I will not need necessarily to loose weight. They are there to control eating with dietitians. Yeah right! You inject me all kinds of chemo (I will look like a third world dump taking developped world's toxic waste) and the body is supposed to take it and be happy. Not this body here. Oh! that recalls me I need to make a list of don'ts in food. I am afraid it is not the time to try a re-education programme in lamb, saumon, fish that a Portuguese would not eat and the likes. So far I have no complains with the hospital food, though I must confess that each time the temptation to move from soup directly to desert is quite strong. I better work out a stock of snacks for my 'private' ward corner just in case of necessity. And will set a number of dealers in Portuguese custards from 'Lisboa' in Golborne Road.
Have to go now. X-Factor is starting at any time and I still need to cook. You don't know what X-Factor is? Just my salvation of Saturdays and Sundays nights. A singing talent contest.

Situation moves fast and changes and changes

Yesterday I had the PET, nothing to report as it was really boring. Sara saved me with her patient wait with food to welcome me after a 8 hours fasting.

Then I had to run home pick up my basic stuff and head to hospital as they decided to get me in for good.

Of course I forgot a number of things. The worst though was to get to hospital and conclude there is no internet connection. Oulala what now? We will find a solution. A bite here a bite there, checks and more checks. Karl, the guy in the bed in front establishes communication and I start to settle. Got TV. Realized there is a nice alentejana Maria Ivone in the ward which will be helpful for my family. Then sleep.


OMG the noise. This is just like my worst nightmare staying at the hotel Crowne Plaza in Brussels. The central air conditioning doesn't stop. So had to sleep with ear plugs.

06:00 they wake me up for more checks. Around 07:30 I thought we were being invaded by a bounge of football fans. A lot of people speaking really loud. It was just the change of shift.

08:30 the doctors (4) arrive. I need an ultrasound to check if wound is healing. And they will start chemo Monday. Then one says and you need a bone marrow exam. And I went like what? Another one? False alarm. He didn't now I had had one already. They go away, another doctor comes back and says after all they spoke with Prof Bower and I should go home for a week to cure the wound!!!!

So if they don't change their minds I will pack again and go home.

The Ward/ A Enfermaria

If you need to find me (except for my debts) I will be based at:

Chelsea and Westminster Hospital
Thomas Macaulay Ward
2nd floor lift B.

Easy the hospital is in Fulham Road.

Do a google if you need the postal code.

Question for the lazy ones: how often will I be there?

Answer: full time and I will only go home here and there.

The beauties of a bone marrow exam

This one is done. It was ok a bit like going to the dentist. You fear the unknown the little pain. But at end all is fine.
You should try at home. Lie in fetal position in your kitchen table. Then find a very thin screw and get a friend to start digging into your bone like if he was opening a bottle of vintage port.Carefully, gently. Make sure you are sufficiently drunk not to feel anything.And make sure you extract bone, otherwise you need to repeat it all over again. One of this tools to prepare pinapple separating skin from fruit would be even better but in nano size.
Lol. Bottomline you got the picture. A bone marrow exam is a piece of cake. Can I eat now? Nope still have a PET to go.

PLEASE READ MY FRIENDS

Guys, not to mention Girls,

1- I love you all, but chemo implies that I will have little patience for people. So if I don't return your calls, e-mails, sms, immediately, please don't take it personnally and don't quit on me.

2 - The mobile and computer can not be switched on with me at my bed. They fear I could become addicted! Kidding...it can interfere with treatment machines in the ward. I will need to go to a visitors room to use it.

3 - If you would like to visit me, please always let me know in advance, so that my PA (yes I am finalling getting a PA...and the best, myself) when free of chemo can check who is already coming. This way we avoid having too many people at same time...as tiring, remember? Also, for those coming from abroad you can stay at my place if there is space available, OK.

4 - For those staying at my place, always make sure you wash your linen (no worries, there is a washing machine) for the next ones. Leave it drying and after the cleaning lady will do the rest.

5 - Will I want you to buy me something? YES YES oh YES. For those of you in Portugal, sending me a VISAO, Caras and something as light as will be wonderful. Again warn me in advance to check who is sending so that I don't end up long in stock of Caras as a newsstand. For those in London, bring me a newspaper or a light magazine. No Economist alikes or you will kill me of boredom. FT? Well their How to spend it Magazine is pretty inspiring. DVD's and books I should be able to buy on internet.

Identifying the type and treatment

So...lymphoma. Yep a high grade one. Meaning more aggressive (ah Tiger), but easier to attack with chemo. More details on his grace depend on further exams that will take place in a few hours. A bone marrow followed by a PET, that I insist on calling PAT. These plus the CT I did last Friday will determine the exact type and extension of the problem. Then rest tomorrow and may the infection of the biopsy cut allow it, treatment should start Monday 2nd.

Now on treatment. Please read carefully as I shall not repeat this twice. Chemo will be administered in hospital. I WILL BE FULL TIME IN HOSPITAL. Going home will be limited to a weekend here and there that doctors can not determine upfront. It depends on evolution of treatment and body reaction. My chemo implies that the immune system will be at low levels several times causing infections. Reason why I need to be in hospital full time. So, again.....I will be in hospital full time and will only go out very irregularly.

Saving you the full details, chemo will be administered in different ways and taking different times. 2 hours one day, drip for 24 hours another day, injections to the bone marrow here and there and so on. They will even give me salt?! I hope is the good Portuguese one. At the end thank God it is just salt, I have mixed it with 'sauda caustica' (don't know the translation), something that basically would have burn me all inside! If you are of a curious nature I will make sure that when you visit me doctors can also apply you a bit so that you taste the real thing. Nice, hein?

E tudo um dia comecou

Friday 23 de Outubro...black out, tears without blood and sweat.
Going to a routine consultation to hear about a biopsy result. Not really scared since the surgeon kept saying it was nothing. He even didn't want to do it. Thank God he was beaten by the rest and biopsy was done. Outcome: Lymphoma. Can't classify him as a nasty bastard or something nicer since I don't really have the pleasure of knowing him. The acquaintance is growing faster though.