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.