Tag Archive: chemotherapy


Within the last couple of weeks, I have discovered something that I thought was true, but now I have experienced it, I know it to be true.
Six months ago I was diagnosed as having testicular cancer. Thankfully this was caught early and after having the offending anatomical item removed and analysed , I was told that I was in the 5% to 10% bracket of not having to do anything else.
Great news!
However, this was not to be true. Four months later I got the call that a CT scan showed that three lymph nodes in typical positions for the spread of this cancer were a little enlarged and I was going to have to go through a course of chemotherapy.

After following the sad demise of a friend who suffered from a far more aggressive form of cancer (Cholangiocarcinoma), and her experience of chemotherapy, I was more than a little anxious as to how bad this experience was going to be.
The course I was put on was a nine week course of three lots of three week cycles, back to back, with the chemotherapy drugs known as BEP. The first five days of each three week cycle was as an in-patient, then on day’s nine and sixteen I would go in for a top-up of one of the chemo drugs in particular.
After the first cycle I went home and felt a little under the weather, but to be honest it wasn’t anything more than the feeling of contracting a heavy cold for a few days. I was still able to function and think and do all the usual day-to-day tasks, just without the energy to do any physical activity.
Not too bad.
The second cycle was a little heavier, and so when I came home on day five I went straight to bed with a low level of energy, then was pretty incapable of anything useful for a couple of days after that. By day nine I was feeling a lot more alive and able to do most things slowly.

However, the ‘something I discovered’ that I speak of in the first line was learned after coming out of the third cycle (and I’m still in it at the moment – I’m typing this at day ten).
Until last night – day nine – my energy level has been so low that even sitting up was an immense effort. To walk would require something to hold onto every ten metres or so. Even just standing was so exhausting I couldn’t do it for any longer than a couple of minutes.
For a person who is used to leading an active life, I found this complete physical inability emotionally and spiritually draining. Being dragged down so low and not being able to do anything was quite possibly the worst experience of my life. It was like the essence of me had been removed… it was quite literally draining my life–force from me.

…and this is where the lesson was learned…

Something so important to my life… my feeling of purpose… my method of achieving self-worth and accomplishment… the ability to be physically active… having had it so completely removed allowed me to see that that ability is the very essence of what makes my life worth living. The loss of it is something that I NEVER want to experience again.

If life is most profoundly experienced by doing that which makes the spirit soar,
then death is to have that ability removed from ones being, and mere existence is all that is left.

For the rest of my life I vow to be active to whatever degree my body allows… because if I am not, then I am already dead!

The new battle

And so, it begins…

“The end is nigh!” they cry
for anyone caught by cancer’s snare.
Lie down, accept it, there’s nothing you can do.
Cancer’s got you, it doesn’t give a care.

I look on, incredulous, eyebrows raised high,
as the multitudes simply accept nature’s cruel gift,
…it must be accepted, cannot be denied.

The end is nigh? What tosh!
Cancer, you showed up early, announced yourself,
what hope do you really think you’ve got!?

I’ve spent 10 years waiting for you, preparing my mind, pacing the floor,
just in case you should decide to come knocking on my door,
and you know what, I’m almost pleased that you’re here.
Ha ha! Oh yes! I like a challenge I do, a battle, a just fight.
And you’re taking me on? You’re going for my life?!

Well have I got news for you sonny Jim.
I’ve got strength like you wouldn’t believe.
I’m a black belt in self belief,
with friends and family that’ll prop me back up when I fall,
to dust me down and push me back into the ring.

I’ve got all that… and what have you got, eh?
What have you got?
What. Have. You. Got.