I have killed the bastard...please denounce me!

Radio is finished. Hip Hip hurrah!!

115 posts/118 days after this adventure started I am happy and relieved that cancer is gone and that I am getting back to my normal life. Rest, gym and work (in this priority) are in the planning for the next weeks.

If anyone around you gets an unfortunate meeting with a cancer and needs advice from someone that went through the same, don't hesitate to appeal to my experience or share with them my blog. I shall keep it as a future reference, and above all, a piece of my personal history. My legacy for the future . Wow!!!

I will think what to do next in the blog world. I have some ideas and will keep you informed.

And what about my FUKITOL motto?

"FUCK CANCER, FUCK CHEMO (OOPS SORRY CHEMO, I KNOW WE WILL BECOME BEST FRIENDS), FUCK HOSPITAL FOOD (PRE-JUDGEMENT), FUCK THE VOMITS, DON'T FUCK THE NHS (AFTER ALL I NEED THEM AND THEY SEEM GREAT PEOPLE) FUKITOL!"

- Fuck indeed cancer. Dangerous bastard. Attacks silently and without invitation.
- Don't fuck chemo. It is there to save you (and fuck your hair!!). We became friends with ups and downs. But I truly hope I keep this friend at large.
- Yep, fuck the vomits...even when you call for it. But no complains, only vomited twice and it was not even chemo's fault.
- No, don't fuck this NHS, my ward at least. I needed them and they were up to the task. Long live the staff at the Thomas Macaulay Ward, Chelsea & Westminster Hospital. I can't thank them enough.

And finally, how could I finish without thanking you all so much for your support, comments, reading my little silly notes. I will miss you, not the circumstance, as you may understand.

THANK YOU SO MUCH. It was a fucked but successful experience!

THE END.

(and I leave you with Florence)

Any advice?

Basically what do I take out of this adventure? I don't dare to think what do you take out of it. Life is too short and moves to quickly, it would be too pretentious for me to believe that my story could touch you in any kind of way.

As you know this blog was created, above all, to allow me to rest and reach a wider audience this way avoiding to repeat on and on what was happening. But, now, when I look back, I believe that all the posts can reach anyone with similar cancer. It might help someone face it with a smile and believe that it is possible to come out ot the problem, positive and as a winner.

It is important to mention that my situation was pretty positive from the start. Would I have been told that I had a few months/years to live, the story would have been significantly different and my advice below would need to be different in some aspects.

So, here we go:

- Cry out when you get the news, but rise above next day and face the situation. There is no point in making a drama (well, you need to measure what doctors tell you about your chances), you need your strength to face the challenge.
- Tell everyone if you feel like. Or don't tell if you don't, but remember you will need some kind of support, so some people need to know.
- All things are relative, keep your humour. If anyone around you comes up with a crying scene recall them that you are the one with the cancer and needing support. And if A tells you that B has a depression, recommend a cancer to B. The depression wil go away in no time.
- The hair is falling? Shave it straight away. It will grow back. If the stock exchanges were going up so quickly after financial crises we would be happier in the bank.
- Once at the hospital smile and keep a normal routine. Smiling is good and cheers up the ones around you, patients and staff. The routine is important. You are on treatment, not on the death row. Walk, buy the newspaper, get a computer and read your e-mails, sms your friends, watch DVD's (maybe avoid dramas at 7 a.m.), put your face cream...
- No comments on hospital food....be strong and face the battle.
- Ask for help whenever and as soon as needed. Feeling nausea? Get antisickness. Feeling little pain in stomach? Get paracetamol...
- Take a treatment at a time, don't rationalize it too much before happening.
- Remember, everything may be over in no time and once done you will forget it quickly. The emotional process can heal quickly (depending on your strength).
- Watch out. When you go back to normality the body is still not up to spead. Hear your body.

And above all be a bit unconscious. Why the need to know everything in detail? As my friend E. would say, don't read the medicine description and side effects or you will feel it immediately. Some friends kept me asking questions about my cancer (they are your friends so they do care) and in some cases I just thought what do I care. The important for me was to know: What do I have? What are the chances of successful treatment? Is the treatment going well? Am I cured and can it come back? Apart from this I am not in this adventure to become a PHD in the matter.

Oh! And on the subject of cancer as a turning point in your life or a moment where you find your true friends. People often consider cancer as one of these defining moments where you re-visit your life and you change a lot of things: work, lovers, friends.

- In my specific case, I don't think the shock was big enough to make me change anything. So, yes I am going back to work (same work as before) and I go on living in London. I am not becoming a hippie. Hippiness doesn't pay credit card bills :-). Money doesn't make happiness...but can help. So, yes I still care about my bonus. I just hope I am able to convince myself to leave the office a bit earlier than usual. Having said this, again, if I had been told the situation was darker and would have it got darker, than I think that you then may start thinking about changing your life.

- On friends and family. Yes you may get closer to your family. Though sometimes you don't have much to tell them on those daily calls. Friends....you confirm the true ones and you may find new ones. I am priviliged that I confirmed the very good friends I have, I have found new ones and I had one disappointment. One only, not bad. But true friendship allows for understanding and forgiveness, so I shall still be a friend.

Miguel

What about my hair?

Tricky subject. Always more for women than for men, so they say. I don't really agree. I look OK bald, but I want my hair back. Doctors, or anyone else that thinks know something on the subject, say that after chemo hair might come back in different shapes and colours. Bit of a dangerous game. Imagine it comes back blonde when you were dark haired or afro when you had a caucasian look! I think that what happens is that hair comes back thinner and eventually slightly curlier or lighter in colour. Mine is coming back thinner and still darkish. But the little bastard has joined forces with the chemo to let me increasingly bald. A day doesn't go by without me looking to the mirror trying to assess the overall rythm of growth. Clearly on top of my head, where there wasn't much hair already before, I see even less hair now. Can I complain to the NHS that I have entered hospital with a nice hair and I got out with much less and it is not growing back? Worst, white hair is supposed to go away. But, my beard is growing whiter...and darker in the moustache!!!

I do miss gym

I told already several times: how amazing our body is. The most complex machine. Before having the cancer I was going to the gym quite frequently and have built up a bit of muscle (What? You didn't notice? :-). I do miss gym and my belly more than anything else. With cancer/treatment/hospital you naturally loose weight and muscle. But once back to your food and normal habits the body recovers very quickly. Better, mine did. To the point that I believe that even the muscle mass is coming back (did someone tell me they have memory?!). I just need some exercise now and get this belly fit again. I am not used to tight trousers in the waist.

Their "Fukitol"...my "Fukitol"

When my friend C. gave me the idea of calling my blog fukitol (in a blunt against cancer) I knew that was inspired in the logo on the pill enclosed here below. But I thought this "Fukitol" pill was a joke, like a spam message. However, "Fukitol" indeed stands for a website on these pills. Well, I haven't really made up my mind whether the blog is all a joke or if there are really pills. You tell me. Anyway, when you create a blog you can see who reads you. Or even better you can see how many people read you everyday and from what country. And you can see what they are looking for. That is, either people know my blog and they type the url or they don't and they google. In certain cases people (from Saudi Arabia, Colombia, Canada...????) have googled FUKITOL. Not my blog, but the pills. I hope they were not to disappointed with what they have found.

Slightly pinkier

Getting slightly pinkier as radio approaches the end, especially in the biopsy scar. The doctor says the radio area looks OK and I only need to see her again in a month. Rest and avoiding sun is recommended now.
Otherwise, getting ready to see the stars at the Brit Awards tomorrow in Earls Court. It is just around the corner. See them...but on TV. The Brits are amazingly funny compared to any MTV, Grammy's, or any American award show, where everyone behaves so well (forget Kannye West). At the Brits musicians seat at tabkes and each time they show a winner you see the table full of drinks. Ultimately one or two winners are drunk and the speech is crazy. This is Cool Britania.

14th of February

No, no, no....I won't make any comments on Valentine's Day. Commercial dates give me more nausea than food hospital!! Nothing against the Saint though. It was on the 14th of February of 2006 that I arrived in London. 4 years already. It is not exactly a love story. We are not into a firm relationship yet. We are just lovers. But the city has treated me well so far...not to mention curing my cancer. Quite an achievement.

Moving fast into capital sin: gluttony

From hospital food to home food to restaurant food to successive and close meals goes in just a quick timeframe. At least with me. I found myself pampering with an afternon tea, at 18:00 at Claridge's (*), forgetting that dinner was set for 19:15. When I saw the price of the Claridge's Royal Tea I even thought of running away, but there was no escape. Counting the number of people around me, there is clearly no economic crisis in London. So, I stayed and stuffed myself in small delicious sandwiches (6 to be precise, and they wanted to give me more), tea and sweets: scones and a "lady bag" and a "pink heart" (a macarron with a rose petal on top!). The "lady bag" was a true little bag made of chocolate. I must confess that the heart and the bag gave me a certain St Valentine's nausea. I almost asked if they did not have anything more suitable for single guys, but they would probably not understand. Unfortunately, the bag remained untouched, by then I thought it was too much as in a few minutes I would be eating meat or fish. Plus you never know what comes in a "lady bag". You might end up with an indigestion for ingestion of several types of woman makeup, several sets of keys, sunglasses and the like.

(*) In order to complete my mood highly affected by the price of the tea, they claim that the tea tradition was introduced by a certain Duchess of Bedford. Not, it wasn't...it was introduced by that Catarina de Braganca, Portuguese princess (and ugly) that married to Charles I. Apart from gold and other common stuff, the Portuguese gave to England the city of Mumbai and boats filled with spices and tea. She also introduced in England the orange jelly, tobacco (the sinner), and the usage of cutlery. I shall clarify the Claridge's tea manager.

"Catherine introduced the custom of drinking tea in England, a custom that was already very popular among the Portuguese nobility at the time. The tea had been imported to Portugal from the Portuguese possessions in Asia as well as through the trade Portuguese merchants maintained with China and Japan."

Talking about fire

I think I just found what to do next on the blog world. I aways thought of going Portuguese with a blog against political correctness (which includes western society going nuts, comments on current politics, etc...). Problem, my computer is not ready for the Portuguese accents. But I have more than good material to go English and on UK.

See an example: an hindu has just won a legal battle in the UK to be buried as per its religion tradition...cremated on a pyre of fire!! What's next? Poligamy? Men/women going around naked in traditional/tribal customs? The western's society increasingly blind respect for cultural traditions is going nuts. UK is not India, France is not Algeria, Portugal is not Africa....Mmmmm this promises to be an interesting future blog.

Want more? Public sector workers in Greece are striking. Protesting against the Government cuts (trying to save the country from bankruptcy). Why don't we simply let Greece go bankrupt and teach these lunatic workers a lesson? They seem to prefer bankruptcy to a viable country. Clearly having a work guaranteed for life is not enough for them.

In the line of fire

Just fired another cleaning lady!! Anyone wants the job? I am an easy employer. No, really. I just don't tolerate paying 4 hours and getting 3 or even 2.5 hours! With them pretending they were here for 4 hours. Even better, since everyone expects that after a cancer you re-think your life, maybe I start a new career as all-included man: babysitter, cleaner, cook...you name it. Think well. Of course my services come at a price. And I give no discounts.

Reflex

Among the possible horrors of cancer treatment, if there is good support available, there can be good things as well. Like getting reflexology sessions. So good!! And free of charge. I almost fall asleep, except today, since the lady told me she leaves in a boat and that gave space to a discussion throughout the session. The feeling is so good (reflex I mean, I am not referring to living in a boat!) that when finished I found myself a bit dizzy. I thought that reflex really works, by touching your main energy points, or whatever the speech they give you about sources of this and that. Nevertheless, I think the dizziness is caused by the fact that you lay your head and feet in two big cushions. The position probably mixes up your blood circulation and drives you dizzy. Before, that, in the morning, I finally managed to arrange some goodies to thank the staff in the ward. Two big baskets of fruit (they get too much chocolate and that is noticeable in their figure), one for each ward. And a "thank you" card. Did you ever try to get a decent "thank you" card? Quite a challenge if you are looking for something wihout animals, balloons and similar designs. Also gave a check to the charity of the ward which contributes to a fund for the staff to use in their social life. They truly deserve it. And then, like if I really miss hospital, I managed to have to go back twice, as I forgot to ask for a receipt and to ask if I could stop the medicine. I can not until after the radio.

This blog has a few more weeks to go

If you think that since the cancer is gone this blog is finished, don't rush. I will only close it after radio ends. Until there I will keep you updated on my little adventures in the health world. And I can not close this blog before ellaborating on lessons learned. So keep watching this space.

I need to teach them how to count

The radiologists keep surprising me. What saves me from deception is that I am in between doctors and nurses and try to reconcile the things each side says. When I saw the doctor she told me about 3/4 weeks of radio. Then I started and the nurse said it would be 10 days. Then I saw the doctor and she said it would be 18 days. Next , the nurse says it is going to be 15 days. And in the middle of all this I was like "are you sure nurse?". Bottomline, it will be 18 days. 9 more sessions to go. Coooolllllll!! And I only need to see the oncologists in 3 months time. In between I need to rest and behave.

Getting on with life

With the exception of not working fully and not gyming yet, life is getting back to normal pretty quickly. Going to cinema, shopping, eating out, meeting friends....everything seems normal again. Which brings up a strange feeling each time I pass in front of the hospital though. The chemo (with full time at hospital) finished just before Christmas. It seems quite far away already. Radio is still there, but it is a very quick procedure. I guess this is our brain's way of processing less pleasant moments in the library of memories. It happened, its finished, move on. Thank God (and me) that it is like that.

Fait divers: Don't miss the movie "Invictus". Morgan Freeman's performance of Mandela is superb, plus you get to know more about an important piece of XX century's history. Precious, the movie, is quite interesting as well. Mo'Nique is very good and you will see Mariah Carey as never seen (indeed, the woman lying under all the diamonds and expensive dresses that make the star) Bit sad story, but I managed to laugh in the least probable situations. It was bizzare as probably the 10 people in the cinema were in shock and I was laughing. I was in the mood. Also watch "Single Man". Beautiful movie, photography, music, excellent performances by Julianne Moore and Colin Firth. Its the Tom Ford (ex-Gucci man) touch everywhere.

A "Samantha Jones" moment

After several years over the end of "Sex and the City", I have found the series. Thanks to the cancer...too much time in hospital leaves you with a good stock of books and DVD's. Interestingly, I didn't manage to consume much culture while at hospital. Today I wonder how did I spend the time. I guess checking the blood pressure. But, going back to the HBO success. I am watching series 6 and couldn't stop laughing with the episode where Samantha finds out she has cancer. Not that it is funny, far from that, but more her reaction, as it recalled me so much mine. Kind of "I have cancer"...."Ok, no tears! This is what you need to know...blablabla. Any questions? No, then, next subject." And she also calls the cancer, "the fucker'. Lovely.

And now this is for C. Do you remember when we manage to get to the swimming pool of the Soho House in NY? Bit more discrete than "Samantha Jones" in her Annabelle Goldstein moment. Lol

Countdown

8 sessions of radio and counting. 7 more to go. Well, depends who is right. The nurse talks of 15 sessions in total, I say 18 (that's what the doctor told me last Monday). Either way it is almost there. The room is freezing (almost) and their hands as well. Radio might cure me, but might get me a cold in no time. Still no side effect (except for the bit soar biopsy scar) and trusting a colleague patient it might never come. She is the only one talkative. If chemo was much worse to take, you would expect patients to be more reserved, but it was during chemo that I had more chatty patients around. In radio it is all to quick, you come and go. This specific lady is clearly very chatty. You say hi and she is already into her treatment and life. Bye then. And I was entitled to a presentation of the support services by a volunteer, herself a patient. Breast cancer 9 years ago, cleared ever since. She seemed to have digested a tape since her speech was so perfect and automatic. She was on her 60's, but very elegant. Interesting character. At least she preached her religion and moved on.

Quiet days

7th session of radiotherapy and still no side effects. I hope it stays like this. Only the scar of the biopsy seems to start accusing the radio, otherwise no tiredness or other effects. Went to the office twice to keep updated with the business. Same old new. Good to be back. My stomach gave signs that it is not used to the City lunchtime anymore, will need to be re-educated.

Organization, organization...no organization

Do you remember my adventure with the PET and the CD-ROM with the results that the radiologist required? If not, I recall you. I had to go three times, three days in a row to the St Thomas Hospital to pick up the CD-ROM's. Either they gave me the wrong one or the radiologist forgot to request the right one.

Anyway...at the end I got the right 2 CD-ROMs and gave it to the radiologists. Today, while waiting for the radio, the doctor came to see me and starts talking science fiction with figures and this and that (I had to ask three times how many days of radio I was going to get and couldn't figure out what her answer was)...and I realized she did not see the results of the last PET. I clarified the cancer is gone and by the way, where is the CD-ROM I gave them with the results stating that? Oh! They only got one CD-ROM (original results)....wait a second, I gave them 2!!!

In any case, the good results don't change their radio plan. I will definitely get 18 sessions of radio (18 business days, or shall I call them hospital days?). But, with less intensity in the last days. This plan ensures that any possible remaining cancer cell is killed.

The dialogue with the doctor made me think about Prof. B. yesterday's ironic remarks: "Did you like the radio doctor? Did she seem knowledgeable?" I said yes, and he challenged " What a surprise! Are you sure? Did you ask difficult questions?" He is such a funny guy.

The radio staff are nice, but there is not much socialization with patients. Not as during chemo. You get there, wait 5 minutes, they call you, you go to the machine, they position you, 1 minute of treatment, finish and off you go. But it is understandable. During chemo (in my case) you stay in hospital or you spend more hours in hospital. The staf end up socializing more with you.

1,000 visit

Nothing like good or bad news to increase the audience. My blog reached 1,000 visits. Many thanks to you all for your caring interest.

Removing the Hickman line...ouch!

After the good news below, the next thing that comes to your mind is please remove me the Hickman line. This is probably the last link you have to the chemo and the soon you get it out the more relieved you are.

Having gone through intrathecals, bone marrow exams and the set up of the line itself I could only conceive that removing the line would be a piece of cake. Well...by the time the doctor finished explaining what was going to happen I was giving her a shy smile..hiding my apprehension. She smiled as well as we understood that it was going to be "fun".

While the set up of the line is made with an X-ray team, local anesthetics and so on, the removal is literally a doctor trying to pull it out!!! Now, you should note that due to the time you live with the line, the tube becomes attached to your tissue and skin, which indeed allows the line to be well sealed in your chest.

The process starts with the doctor giving you local anesthetics. Then cutting the skin around the line. Then giving more anesthetics in order to push the tissue back with a scissor before pulling the line out. And the line...it was bigger than I expected. It is good not to know it in advanced, otherwise I could not live peacefully with it. I am not the type of complaining with little procedures/pain, but this one was a bit over the top...and I didn't complain. The doctor is literally centimeters away of your face, opening your chest. There is blood everywhere (that she cleans immediately). Once finished you see a cut (not big, but not very smallish either). I made the point nicely that my chest had been ruined, but she says it will be a little and beautiful scar. The worst was to come. Bit painful once the anesthetics effect is gone and any movement causes pain. They gave me no painkillers, but I had a glass of red wine at lunch...just to alleviate the pain. Lol

This battle is won

I was going to write THE battle is won, but life is full of surprises and it is better to say THIS battle is won.

It is quite a relief to know that the PET confirms that the cancer is gone: "Comparison is made of the previous study of 29/10/09. (...) The findings indicate a complete metabolic response to treatment. The previously seen mass in the left axillla is no longer visualised on the current study". Ufffff!!!!!! The little fucker is gone.

The doctors were as happy as I. I guess that is their recompensation...to save lives. There are no bonus for them. Prof. B. started the consultation by playing with my financial job trying to trade the results summary for my potential bonus. I had to recall him again that I am not a banker...and certainly not one from Goldman Sachs. Doctors and nurses came around for the news and we all exchanged happy and relieved smiles.

But, what's next?

Radio goes on. It is considered as a bonus treatment. Since, the PET was made before radio started, that means that radio will further reassure that the cancer is not there.

I need to recover. Chemo destroys a lot and radio will make me tired. The immune system needs to come back fully. Though blood samples show things are ok, radio will bring the body down again.

Checks. I will need to go back for regular checks and they will teach me how to look for symptoms and this way avoid to freak out at any little suspicion.

Re-occurence. Unlike, but possible, even in several years time. As I had a rare mix of lymphoma types, they have no experience on re-occurence for my case. But as the doctor said: "If it comes back we know what to do."

So, this blog is not over yet.

They were going away when I recalled: "Hey what about the hickman line? Can't you take it out now?" You will read more about the hickman line in the next post.

I am still writing about the good news. Give me an hour.