http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/My blog, will talk about my diagnosis of cancer and detail how I may be feeling, what treatment I'm being subjected to(!), when I'm having treatment and other things which my friends and family might find of interest.Please feel free to write in my guest book which I'll have a look at periodically. en-UKMokoFeed10http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/http://data5.blog.de/design/preview/eb/6bbdaea29d4e13204336c7f0e9440b_160x200.jpghttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/28/david-pell-rip-4651045/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-08-28:/2008/08/28/david-pell-rip-4651045/Thu, 28 Aug 2008 22:21:02 +0200 <p>I am dreadfully sad and sorry to have to announce to you all that David has sadly and suddenly, today, 28th August 2008, lost his battle with cancer.  </p> <p>David was the most kind, generous and loving man I have ever met and inspired me to do many things that otherwise might never have been possible.  I cannot even begin to explain to any of you out there how special David was and how profoundly grateful that I am to have shared 11 years of my life with him.  </p> <p>David, left behind many people who will be hurting immensely, but amongst those who will be suffering in particular today are his Brother, Martin, his Sister, Sheila, his Daughter, Natalie, his Son, Darren and his various nephews and nieces.  This list is totally unexhaustive as I am sure there are many other people too numerous and no less important to mention.  At the point of writing this email, David's mother is yet to be told, being also in hospital.  I hope she will have strength to absorb this news and the power of Will to understand this devastating loss.</p> <p>David, may you rest comfortably and peacefully and never feel pain again.  I love you totally and dearly - you were my entire life.  I have no idea who I am without you, only that I am now a lesser person.  Your ever loving wife, Sarah xxxxxx</p> <p class="center"><strong><em>David Pell<br>04/09/50 to 28/08/08</em></strong></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/28/david-pell-rip-4651045/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/28/david-pell-rip-4651045/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/15/home-a-strange-and-lonely-place-4594114/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-08-15:/2008/08/15/home-a-strange-and-lonely-place-4594114/Fri, 15 Aug 2008 21:45:41 +0200 <p>We've not written anything for a while. Life has been hectic and not altogether pleasant. </p> <p>David was admitted to the Macmillan Unit on Monday 4th August. It wasn't a planned event, more that David's symptoms became more and more unmanageable. Prior to his admittance David had been almost self sufficient in that he could make himself something to eat, he could walk around a little and he could wash/dress relatively easily. He was finding it more difficult to concentrate for any length of time and his ability to think deeply on any level was hindered. Finding out that David had to be admitted was distressing for me, but it was something I accepted as all I wanted was for him to get the help he needed and to get his symptoms under control. </p> <p>David's bed was in a 3 bed bay, although the place wasn't modern, it was clean and tidy and the Nurses were kind and professional. Whilst you often hear in the newspapers of dreadful stories of nursing in the NHS whilst David was in hospital we only saw goodness, patience, kindness and capability. </p> <p>David was most distressed at being admitted to the unit. He was frightened and concerned that he wouldn't ever come home. He really felt that now he was being admitted he would be there until his ultimate demise. It took a great deal of time and patience explaining to him that he would come home, that he would see his family again and that it wasn't his time yet. All David wanted was for me to be with him all day. It was soul wrenching having to leave for any length of time. Indeed I would normally get to the hospital around noon, then leave for only an hour or two to get something to eat myself around dinner time and then return again to stay with him until 10pm at night. </p> <p>Sadly on David's second night in hospital the gentleman in the bed opposite him passed away and you can perhaps imagine how upsetting this was to David. It was like a grim view into the future - it was deeply disturbing and profoundly sad.</p> <p>What was perhaps even more sad was that no sooner had the bed been vacated then within hours it was full again, with yet another poor soul suffering, in pain, unable to walk, catheterised etc, etc. </p> <p>A major aim of David's admittance was to get his nausea and vomiting under control. As David had been feeling (and indeed being) sick he had lost more weight due to the fact that he was no longer eating. The more weight he loses the more strength he loses. </p> <p>Cancer does many nasty things to the body, one of which is destroying the body's ability to process food. It takes away the body's ability to absorb nutrients from food. It takes away the enjoyment of food. I have found this aspect particularly hard to deal with. David has always enjoyed his food enormously and to see him struggling to eat is very painful indeed. Whilst the hospital try and provide food that is both nutritious and varied, unfortunately David didn't like much of what he was given and as such didn't each much. He managed to eat some soups and a small desert of ice cream most days but very rarely did he actually manage to eat a main meal. </p> <p>As David was neither eating or drinking he became very dehydrated which made him feel very confused. He had also become very anaemic again and he ended up having to have another 3 blood transfusions. These gave him an immediate boost but the effects seemed quite short lived. His blood pressure was very variable. When standing up, his blood pressure plummeted which made him feel very dizzy then it would normalise on sitting or lying back down. Sometimes the blood pressure was high due to the pain he was experiencing, other times it was completely normal. All these things were factors which were being addressed by the doctors and nurses. </p> <p>Throughout his time in the unit his medications were being tweaked - upping one drug here, reducing one drug there all in an effort to get David's pain under control, to reduce his nausea and vomitting, to reduce the nerve pain, to help him sleep and to help get his anxiety under control. This in itself caused David a lot of upset as he was constantly a little confused as to what was happening. Finally we managed to get the doctors to write down exactly what he was taking and when - as he could see it written down, he could understand a little more what was happening. This enabled him to feel a little more in control.</p> <p>Finally just over a week and a half later David was able to be discharged from the hospital late on Thursday 14th August. He was happy to be coming home but very anxious about being at home and away from immediate help from the doctors. When he came home he still had a syringe driver in his arm pumping away small doses of a drug for nausea 24 hours a day. Initially the doctors and nurses thought that this might be taken out after a week, but at the time of writing, he still has it in his arm and the District Nurses are still coming in on a daily basis to change the drugs over and check the site of the needle. </p> <p>We're both delighted that David is home, but it hasn't been without it's trials and tribulations. Before he was able to be released home the nurses had to be happy that he had sufficient adaptations at home to ensure he was comfortable - these included special pressure cushions for him to sit on, a raised loo seat, a special electric air mattress to prevent bed sores and a special bath seat. The air mattress is quite noisy but it has made it so much easier for David to get a comfortable nights sleep which is quite a blessing. Unfortunately he already has a few pressure sores, but we manage with these, keeping them clean and putting special cream on them. </p> <p>David does now get very breathless and this is extremely frightening for him. The breathlessness comes both whilst he is sitting still and also when he's walking around. As he can barely walk now, he has a wheelchair for when he goes out. Since coming home though, he hasn't really been well enough to go any where, being confined to the house. Quite whether we will ever get out far again will depend I guess on a daily basis as to how he is feeling and how comfortable he is. </p> <p>For the time being, I just have to be patient and do as much as I can to help David feel well and to help him get around. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/15/home-a-strange-and-lonely-place-4594114/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/15/home-a-strange-and-lonely-place-4594114/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/02/running-for-a-good-cause-4534780/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-08-02:/2008/08/02/running-for-a-good-cause-4534780/Sat, 02 Aug 2008 21:57:43 +0200 <p>The saying goes, "charity begins at home" in this case, it actually begins and ends in Brighton.  Those of you who are eagle eyed will have seen in the comments section that David's nephew, Matt has decided to do a 10k run in aid of Cancer Research.  Cancer Research is an excellent charity which will hopefully one day turn cancer into a small and inconvenient problem rather than the life taker that it currently is.  </p> <p>If you can, please visit Matt's page and give generously.  <a href="http://www.run10ksponsorme.org/mattpell"></p> <p><a href="http://www.run10ksponsorme.org/mattpell">http://www.run10ksponsorme.org/mattpell</a></a></p> <p>Donating in David's favour must be a good cause - go Matt, go!!!!<a href="http://www.run10ksponsorme.org/mattpell"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/02/running-for-a-good-cause-4534780/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/08/02/running-for-a-good-cause-4534780/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/07/19/silence-4470922/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-07-19:/2008/07/19/silence-4470922/Sat, 19 Jul 2008 22:40:42 +0200 <p>You have not heard from me for some time; I sorry for this. I will be doing a new blog shortly. The problem has been that the first 3 cycles of Chemo did not have the results they should have had and, bunch this with the fact, that I became so tired I could not sit at the computer without falling asleep. I never got very far. Any way as I am dropping off now I will pick this up hopefully tomorrow. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/07/19/silence-4470922/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/07/19/silence-4470922/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/07/19/prognosis-4468582/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-07-19:/2008/07/19/prognosis-4468582/Sat, 19 Jul 2008 12:01:15 +0200 <p>It's been a harrowing year so far. The events that have unfolded seem almost too unreal, yet, here I am typing about something that I can hardly entertain the thought of.</p> <p>David was diagnosed and he started his treatment - we tried to be positive, even when things were tough during David's chemo. It wasn't easy. Now, 3 cycles later the chemo is over. It would be easy to think that once the chemo is over, David's quality of life would get better. Sadly as anyone who has been through chemo would be able to tell you, the effects of the treatment are long lasting. Chemo destroys the good cells, and is supposed to destroy the bad and the downright ugly. Chemo isn't the end though. After the chemo came the battery of tests to find out how well David had coped with the chemo - scans, blood tests, etc, etc, etc. David had been feeliung a little better and we both felt more upbeat, believing that we would get some positive news. However, hell is a place called hospital. We received a call from our specialist calling us into the hospital urgently. From experience, urgent calls are never the ones that you really want to receive and they very rarely bring good news. </p> <p>Sadly the chemo didn't do anything useful for David at all. It ground him down and then spat him out whilst the cancer ran riot. While David had been feeling a little better the cancer was busy spreading, to his spine and even more around his lungs. What a cruel trick life has played. Our urgent trip to the hospital was to discuss an urgent radiotherapy to David's spine. The specialists feared that the cancer would lead to compression of the spine, which could lead to paralysis. Once more, David had to suffer the pain of lying down on hard benches, having yet more tattoos for the radiotherapists and cope with daily trips to the hospital. </p> <p>The specialist gave a prognosis of "several months NOT several years" - but what does that mean? Even now, having had this knowledge for some weeks, I still cannot type this without tears falling down my face and my hands shaking. Some days, it's almost impossible to talk to anyone because I simply cannot keep my emotions in control, other days, I manage but often have to cut conversations short. People say I have been brave and am a tower of strength to David, but I don't believe that. I'm just ticking over, not really living, not really daring to think much - it's too painful. Unfortunately though I tend to be a deep thinker and consequently I feel in someways that I'm in as much pain as David, except that I know I'm not. David tells me now that he has come to terms with the fact that he is not going to live until he is old and that his life will be cut short. I cannot bear this. I simply cannot. I have to bear it though, it's tearing me apart. </p> <p>We were advised by our specialist to seek a second opinion - after a long drive we found ourselves in Cambridge for this appointment. I guess we both felt optimistic as we had both chatted happily on the way over there, interspersed with little cat naps from David, it was a nice day and the sun was shining. The specialist was extremely thorough, he asked a lot of questions and carried out a full examination. His opinion though was the same as our local specialist. Comforting in some ways because as least then we knew that we had received the best possible care up to that moment, but disturbing because in our hearts we had been dreaming of a "cure". </p> <p>Neither specialist were of the opinion that any further chemo would be useful, giving it a less than 5% chance of shrinking the cancer. The Cambridge specialist however thought that as David still felt able to fight on, that a cancer growth inhibitor drug would be the next step for us to take. He predicted that this drug would have a 25% chance of helping, but that the side effects would be very unpleasant. </p> <p>The specialist also felt that David's breathing could be eased by draining the build up of fluid on David's lungs. Whilst that might seem a simple idea, it would mean a number of days being spent in hospital. He also felt that it might be possible to reduce some of the pain by giving David a form of nerve block which would serve to slow the pathways from the nerve to the brain and hence damp down the pain. </p> <p>Our local specialist agreed with the growth inhibitor and as I type, we await a call to arrange this new drug. Hopefully to commence next week. David had an x-ray to ascertain exactly how much fluid had built up in his lungs and also to find out how much damage the cancer had done to the bones in his pelvis. Having to walk the length and breadth of the hospital for these x-rays has caused David severe pain. Added to this David had to have a second blood transfusion as he had become anaemic once more. </p> <p>As I type this, David is thankfully sleeping. I am extremely grateful that he has managed to get some sleep as the pain was so severe last night that he managed only one hour of sleep and that was at 6am this morning. It's very difficult and emotionally draining to see the person you love in so much pain. The pain is such that it makes David rock backwards and forwards. He is absolutely wracked with pain. He cannot get comfortable as the broken ribs and pressure from the cancer in his chest wall means the pain pulses through his body. The sheer effort of trying to lie in one place to prevent himself from being in any more pain makes his legs ache to the point that they too are painful. He can no longer grasp things very well and constantly drops things. This frustrates him as his mobility is restricted. Trying to pick things back up causes yet more pain. All David has to look forward to is pain, pain and more pain. Sleep is a relief. I don't feel that I have much to look forward to at the moment. I hate seeing David in so much pain and it hurts so much to see him cry, and the tears roll down his face as he struggles with the agony he finds himself in. </p> <p>I type this and feel very selfish, as I talk about how I feel, but at the same time I think of all the other hundreds and thousands of people out there who are suffering more than us. I wonder how they are coping and feel great sorrow for their predicaments and admiration for their bravery. While I dare not feel too hopeful I try and remain positive, and remain committeed to doing what I can to ease David's discomfort. </p> <p>In the meantime, we await an appointment with a palliative care consultant who we hope will be able to ease David's pain. That I guess will be a post for another day.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/07/19/prognosis-4468582/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/07/19/prognosis-4468582/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/15/living-and-coping-4319225/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-06-15:/2008/06/15/living-and-coping-4319225/Sun, 15 Jun 2008 18:23:18 +0200 <p>I haven't written anything for a while - mainly because I set this blog up for David, it wasn't meant to be a forum for me to take over, but also because my time has been better served by being there and taking care of David's various needs.</p> <p>It's been an interesting but also somewhat disturbing and upsetting time over the last few months. If you asked me now what life was like before David was diagnosed with cancer, I'm not sure I could tell you. I know that I perhaps didn't really appreciate what you might call mundane moments in life and that I did a lot of things at warp speed and often didn't stop to really think. Whilst cancer will never be a gift, I can thank it I guess in a small way for making me enjoy some of the simpler things in life like the odd days when David is well enough to have a snack out with me at a cafe or simply just visiting a garden centre together.</p> <p>You might have thought that as I haven't got cancer, or indeed any form of medical condition that life would be relatively easy, but living with someone who has cancer is anything but easy. By saying this, I do not mean that David is a burden, far from it, but life has changed and I now need to think of so many more things than I ever did before. So what do I have to do differently now? Well, there's a number of things, some simple, others not so.</p> <p>You will know from David's last post that he used to be an extremely fit and strong person - cancer changes this. The nasty thing about cancer treatment (and I'm talking about chemo) is that whilst it is helping you by getting rid of the enemy, it also eats away at your body. David has lost weight since his battle began and sadly his muscles have also atrophied and he is considerably weaker than he once was. This means that sometimes, depending on how David feels on a day by day basis, that he can sometimes not lift anything much heavier than a cup of coffee without feeling exhausted and drained - imagine how frustrated that must leave him feeling. Normally, he copes very well with this, but sometimes his frustrations boil over and he vents. </p> <p>One change in David that I do sometimes find really difficult to deal with is the fact that the various medications and of course the exhaustion have made David forgetful at times. As I haven't got the best of memories I have, in the past, relied on David's super memory to help me along in my day to day life, yes it's lazy but that's what you do when you're a team, you work together and rely on each other. I sometimes worry that if my head wasn't attached that I'd perhaps forget it and leave it at home. David's memory has always been phenomenal, remembering dates, times, figures etc from a long way back into the past and remembering things that I have to do. This ability has deserted him for the time being, no doubt to return once he has recovered.</p> <p>I mentioned briefly exhaustion - whilst I will have difficulty explaining precisely how badly this affects David, from my perspective it is perhaps one of the worst things he has to suffer with on a daily basis. I try to encourage David to take naps as often as he likes but the fighting part of David doesn't always like to give in to what he sometimes perceives as weakness. We often sit and chat, but partway through a conversation he nods off, only to wake up 10 minutes later confused and wondering what's happening. He no longer drives his car as a consequence of this. His recent blood transfusion has helped and also the fact that it's almost 3 weeks since his last chemo sesson, but many things which we all take for granted tire David out. </p> <p>The old BT advert said "It's good to talk". I agree with this, it is good to talk. However, talking is often something that tires David out the most. That was one of the initial reasons for setting this blog up. What we tend to find happens is that David will receive one telephone call and then another 3 or 4 will follow in rapid succession. Often the same things get said in these telephone conversations and we just end up repeating ourselves. It's great that people call us, but just unfortunate that all the calls come at the same time. Just like buses! Joking over. David's voice has improved dramatically since his operation and thankfully he can now hold a conversation. Some days however, it is still an effort for him, particularly if he needs to raise his voice. If he needs to raise his voice, he gets very breathless and sometimes light headed. Some days his voice is good and strong, others not so much.</p> <p>Chemo destroys mucosal linings - whilst you might think of mucus as just being something that is troublesome when you have a cold or flu, it's something that is essential in our bodies that is protective. We have noticed that there has been damage to mucosal linings especially in David's digestive tract - he can no longer eat or drink some of the things he loves. Spicy food is uncomfortable for him to eat, as is drinking his beloved wine. Indeed even the least spicy of foods are often too hot for him to handle. However, the good thing is that as the chemo cycles come to a close, he can eat/drink more things. Also the whole taste experience seems to be in global technicolour. Things taste and smell more intense. We have had to make radical changes to our diets. </p> <p>Another symptom of mucosal lining damage is present when David has company, or when our birds start making a noise and chattering. Talking and general noise seems amplified for David and at certain volumes it becomes unbearable for him after while. We both enjoy seeing people, but sometimes it becomes difficult for David to deal with. </p> <p>Nausea can be a problem too. Whilst it isn't there all the time, when it is present, it destroys David's appetite. My nurturing instinct is to try and give David all his favourite foods to try and help him get better - sadly when the nausea kicks in, he doesn't want to eat just in case it makes him sick. Sometimes the nausea gets the better of him and he is truely sick - that is very nasty. It upsets both of us, but worse still, it can often put him off eating for even longer. Our GP has prescribed some drinks which are nutritionally complete and these help when David isn't up to eating, but they aren't a substitute for actually eating.</p> <p>Getting around is also now more of a problem for David. I remember times prior to the nasty "big C" when he used to stride out and I'd be scampering along behind him like a small child running to catch up with their parent. His pace is more sedate now, he is getting more nifty walking around with his stick but walking is an effort which tires him out. </p> <p>I try not to let things bring me down too much but it does upset me that cancer has robbed David of much of the enjoyment from his life. He liked driving his car, riding his bike, skiing, tending his bonsai, taking photographs, walking our dog whilst she was alive and many other things. Most of these things now are strictly off limits. That is until he has beaten this thing. Believe me, if anyone can beat it, it's David.</p> <p>I could ramble on and tell you many more things which are more difficult but I won't as I've had you reading this for too long already. May be another day. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/15/living-and-coping-4319225/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/15/living-and-coping-4319225/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/13/scan-4311122/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-06-13:/2008/06/13/scan-4311122/Fri, 13 Jun 2008 14:50:49 +0200 <p>I had a CT scan yesterday: this took place as I had had the first three sessions of Chemo. It is to see what progress has taken place and whether the chemo has done what it was designed to do i.e. rip out the cancer violently. It has certainly had a damned good go - judging by what it had done to the good parts of my body. It is also designed to see whether the right chemo chemicals have been used as the primary source was not discovered. I assume this means that if insufficient progress is made then different chemicals can be used.</p> <p>It has been a gruelling First Session.</p> <p>I am still being told by the Doctors to selfishly get rid of anything that distracts me from concentrating on beating the disease. All outside interference preventing this one objective should be put aside. This can be very difficult as life does go on. I have by and large tried to do this. Whether it has worked remains to be seen. I have worked on various positive thinking and visualisation techniques both by myself and with the assistance of a qualified therapist. It is a technique that is amazing in what it can do: there will be many sceptics out there but no matter if I think visualisation works for me then I will carry on with it.</p> <p>Last weekend someone came to visit me who I had not seen for many years - I can't remember whether I have told you. He used to own the gym where I used to train and body build - starting in the 1980's. He used to plan my training routines and generally supervise my training. On occasions he used to take me round the gym on the routine; it was exhausting when he did this. I would start to flag and he would start to cajole me and push me and generally have a go: put the weight up, one more rep on this exercise, one more set here, don't forget this weight, you have forgotten this and so on. By that time I was, I thought, at the end of my strength and could not lift another thing. I was wrong. He would say in the middle of all this, "See yourself lift that weight" " See yourself do another set". I was convinced I could not. But I started to be able to see myself in my mind doing what he was telling me to see. The visualisation would get so vivid - I would actually then be able to do physically what he was telling me in spite of how I felt ! I convinced myself that I could do it and I could! This would happen over and over again - it was amazing. It was the mind taking over. </p> <p>We spoke about this when he came to see me. I told him I was still using the techniques. He was pleased. This visualisation is the core of the counselling and help I get from Frances who comes to see me. Again the experiences are quite amazing. I visualise the cancer to fight it. I visualise the entire body healing process. I visualise me being healthy and strong again. It is a powerful experience and it is also a tremendous mental boost to have these impressions.</p> <p>I will be carying out these visualisation sessions many times between now and Thursday - results day. All I can hope is that all the weapons I have had at my disposal - there have been others - have been useful.</p> <p>The transfusion has given me more energy: again I can only say thank you to the unknown donor whose blood I used. Hey I have gone on long enough today so will finish now but....</p> <p>..I'll be back </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/13/scan-4311122/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/13/scan-4311122/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/11/post-chemo-session-one-4300642/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-06-11:/2008/06/11/post-chemo-session-one-4300642/Wed, 11 Jun 2008 09:39:13 +0200 <p>I have had a blood transfusion.</p> <p>Yes this happened Monday of this week: it was probably likely to happen as my HB levels were down on what they should have been. I did not want the transfusion; i went to the hospital on Friday because I had a skin rash - I was told and have been given it in writing that as I was having chemo I was to contact the chemo unit if I had the slightest thing wrong with me. So if I had a little temperature I was to contact the unit. They would check it out and if necessary give me blood tests to make sure all ok. Chemo can and does destroy good cells as well as bad. So any way I had this rash, they gave me blood test, there was a lot of stroking of chins by the staff while they looked at the results and they decided it was a blood transfusion for me. Apparently more people have blood transfusions than we all know.</p> <p>I arrived at the Hospital in good time for my appointment - as always my rock Sarah took me in - she could not stay as she had to go to work. I went in and after the usual security preliminaries I was connnected up and given two units. One unit is one donation from one donor and is anything between 250 ml and 300 ml. It is trickled into you very slowly, presumably to ensure there is no rejection problem. It took 4 hours.</p> <p>When the blood was all in they disconnected me and I was allowed home. While I was at the hospital I mentioned that I had had stomach problems. Would you believe they decided to take some blood for testing while I was having the transfusion. So there I was with blood trickling in to me through my right arm and they were taking it out as fast as they could out the left arm! They did n't need much which was good because, strangely enough, it hurt on that occasion.</p> <p>Since then the stomach problem has got better - I hope - the GP gave me the appropriate medication. But I have had two sleepless nights: the one because of the stomach and the other because of the pain in my bones. I don't know why the pain should all of a sudden come back unless the effect of the stomach problem was to "dilute" the efficiency of the MST tablets.</p> <p>Any way thats about all I can tell you for now except to get you to wish me luck - I am having a CT Scan Thursday this week to see how the chemo has worked etc. I have mixed feelings and emotions on this one. I hope I have been positive enough to ward it off - if I have n't what then? If the oncolgist says that the chemo is not working what else is there to beat the cancer and get rid of it? So I am looking forward to it but have some reservations.</p> <p>I'll be back </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/11/post-chemo-session-one-4300642/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/06/11/post-chemo-session-one-4300642/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/30/third-chemo-mark-4246909/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-05-30:/2008/05/30/third-chemo-mark-4246909/Fri, 30 May 2008 13:34:08 +0200 <p>Wednesdays blood tests results were ready when I saw the oncologist Thursday: He said there was a slight improvement in the HB levels and I was able to go ahead with the chemo session. That was good news to say the least: I was dreading getting there and being told we could not do the session - the chemo is a lifeline!</p> <p>I was warned that if the HB levels were bad they might have kept me in hospital to give the transfusion there and then. What was worse was that it can take hours and hours to do the transfusion - I don't know why - I might have been there overnight with the chemo being delayed whilst they checked the bloods again. All in all, a consequence I did not want. Anyway, it did not happen and the session went quite well. </p> <p>The next thing on the agenda is a CT scan and more blood tests in about 3 weeks time. These will give me further information as to whether the cancer is beating a hasty retreat and also plan the next treatment cycle from there. The oncologist takes into account such things as blood tests, CT scans and my body's reaction to chemo sessions in deciding the next round of treatment. He thought from my reactions that there was nothing in there to prevent more chemo. Other things need to be investigated.</p> <p>Sarah and I are going to see if we can have a few days away from home somewhere local to have a change of scenery and a bit of a break. We need ideally to try and find somewhere that enables me to crash out if needs be but also gives Sarah chance to occupy herself with things she might want to do. We both need to look at something different than our four walls! The planning is a bit more complex than normal as we have our 3 birdies to consider! Murphy is still wary of me - he is the eldest African Grey. Lily the youngest Grey seems to be discovering me and Jasper the Black Headed Caique is no different - just noisy!</p> <p>Isn't the weather miserable? I took my camera out one afternoon last week and really enjoyed myself (but over did it). I want to get out again with the camera in some decent weather when it is not windy, raining and cold. It's strange but the cancer makes me feel the cold so much more than I ever have done!</p> <p>Anyway, thank you all for your comments and support.</p> <p>I'll be back! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/30/third-chemo-mark-4246909/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/30/third-chemo-mark-4246909/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/28/third-chemo-4237442/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-05-28:/2008/05/28/third-chemo-4237442/Wed, 28 May 2008 10:48:05 +0200 <p>Time flies - I am coming up to my third chemo session this thursday. I have the blood tests later on today, I see the oncologist first thing thursday and if he is happy with the bloods, chemo will follow later in the morning. After this chemo session I have a break and more tests to see how the chemo has worked. Assuming it has worked it might then be I have more chemo - or we change treatment. We shall see.</p> <p>It does seem a long time that my wife and I decided to create this site - I had reservations but my wife thought it would be a good thing to share the experience if we can call it that. I have to say that I agree with her totally. Sometimes it has not been easy opening your soul in this way but I do somehow feel comforted in the sharing of all the experiences - good and bad. It has also taught me that people do care even if they feel embarassed to show it face to face: people do care if they take the time to read the stuff I write and, even more surprising, comment on it!! People are mainly good rather than anything else</p> <p>I do not look forward to having the chemo - the side effects can be difficult - but I do look forward to seeing the results of the treatment. I have felt better since chemo number 2 but in the last few days I have been in some pain - that I hasten to add has been my own fault. I always do too much and also I tried to get a photograph from a difficult angle which twisted my back. Were it not for those things I would have felt marvellous - I was getting more mobility, sleeping better, better outlook and generally feeling good. It was my own fault so now I know I must pace myself very strictly and the moment I start to feel tired etc I shoud stop say "Enough" and then rest for a while.</p> <p>I had a very enjoyable day yesterday: I met up with a friend who I had not seen since University days - I was reminded that was 37 years ago. It was a long time. He got his degree at the same time as me. From there our lives were very different - he was in industry and travelled the world and I was in private practice not getting much further than the office!! However we did both enjoy our professional working lives. We both enjoyed the reunion and my one regret is that it will be difficult to maintain regular contact - he lives on mainland Europe. It was a great day and a pleasure to renew the friendship.</p> <p>I seem to be rambling in this blog - so will finish now. Let you all know about the chemo.</p> <p>I'll be back </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/28/third-chemo-4237442/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/28/third-chemo-4237442/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/22/progress-4206371/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-05-22:/2008/05/22/progress-4206371/Thu, 22 May 2008 09:47:54 +0200 <p>Morning to you all out there. I have not been out and posted anything on the site for some time. I am putting this right now.</p> <p>I told you about a week ago now that I had had the second chemo session. I have had more side effects this time. The sickness has been worse. The main problem has been the total, absolute, up to infinite and beyond, tiredness. I was tired after the first session but that was peanuts compared to what it has been like this time. I have fallen asleep everywhere and wherever. I have even fallen asleep while having a converstaion on the phone - the caller was not that boring! (and I don't think knew that I had). The callers voice woke me up!! - bizarre. I'll try not to drop to sleep now - if there is a long gap you will know what has happened so please don't be offended!! - whether you shout to wake me up I will leave to you.</p> <p>Having said that I have felt loads better since the weekend. The pain is alot better. Dare I wonder and speculate that the chemo is working - I am sure it is. I intend to make sure that it does. </p> <p>The next session is next week - thursday. I imagine that I will be more tired after that session than after the the second one. Oh well we can live with it.</p> <p>Went out yesterday with my camera. Our neighbour is a keen photgrapher and he took his. We went to the local park and found a Nature Hide which consisted of one wall of planks of wood with observation holes overlooking a lake. We saw very little!! There was some large fish jumping which were impossible to photo unless you happened to be looking at the right place at the right time which we were'nt! so no pictures to bring home. It was a great time for me: it was the first time I have been out with my camera since I was given the diagnosis. I managed it and enjoyed it but I was tired out when I got home. </p> <p>I like to think that the trip was a breakthough. It was a failure in terms of results but no matter. I shall do it again, whether before or after the next chemo session remains to be seen. Sarah was pleased. It was good of my neighbour to take me as I am not the quickest walker at the moment.</p> <p>(Large Gap here - nodded off for 10 minutes or so)</p> <p>I intend to keep going with things like this - your support is always in my mind and it always helps no end and I can feel another Gap coming on so I better sign off for the moment and get back to you all again shortly.</p> <p>I'll be back</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/22/progress-4206371/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/22/progress-4206371/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/08/second-chemo-session-again-4149856/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-05-08:/2008/05/08/second-chemo-session-again-4149856/Thu, 08 May 2008 22:22:58 +0200 <p>My God thats an original title! Anyway a short one tonight. My blood tests were good enough for me to have the second session. The haemoglobin was down to 9. something - it should be 12. something. So yes it is down : the Oncologist did warn me if that it dropped more he might have to do the transfusion. Any way he didn't today so I had the session.</p> <p>There were some admin problems which we got over. I managed to take the chemical quicker this time than last so was done in 2 hours. That was good.</p> <p>I have come home to see the messages of support from you guys - thanks to all of you. It is great to read them. They gave me strength. Yes we will fight this thing and we will get rid of it.</p> <p>Will finish now as shattered so ..........I'll be back </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/08/second-chemo-session-again-4149856/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/08/second-chemo-session-again-4149856/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/07/second-chemo-session-4142964/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-05-07:/2008/05/07/second-chemo-session-4142964/Wed, 07 May 2008 13:20:31 +0200 <p>Writing this on the 7 May having just got back from Hospital. I had to do a blood test for the chemo session tomorrow. This is the second session of Chemo. The blood test is needed to make sure that, in layman's terms, my blood (and I) are both strong enough to withstand another chemo onslaught. I will not know the answer to that until I see the Oncologist before the session as he will get the results. </p> <p>How do I feel? Reassured by the messages of support here on the site and from elsewhere. Worried that my blood has not recovered enough from the first session so preventing having the second - I want to continue with the planned sessions to beat this thing. My own strength needs topping up with the additional Chemo ammunition. I have been warned that certain people do need blood transfusions in the Chemo cycle if the blood does not recover enough - it normally means a delay of a period of time. I do not want to be one of those people - I want to keep fighting it without pause. To know that the session is going ahead is a tremendous boost and lets more positive thoughts in. I am keeping everything crossed for good blood results.</p> <p>I have not been sleeping well over the last few days: the back pain over the shoulder blades makes it hard to get comfortable. Lying in the wrong position makes it worse and wakes you up. Not having a good nights sleep is the pits. Everyone will agree I think that when you are tired, it is harder to deal with things. Get a good nights sleep and you can move mountains! Mind you today I am alot more comfortable so let us hope I crash out tonight: I could siesta this afternoon but I do not want to miss the lovely spring day.</p> <p>I have also now retired - at the end of April - and so the question of income rears its head. I had to retire due to my ill health so this was inevitable. I am looking into Social Security assistance and the like but it is a bit of a worry. My pension does not kick in until I am 65 - a few years away yet!! </p> <p>Shoot - I am depressing myself with this blog and I might even delete it yet but being down is something that does occur - it needs fighting against with all other troubles. Think positive. That is what I need to do and will do</p> <p>What was I talking about a bit ago? Oh yes the Spring Day. It is a beautiful day here today. The sun shines, there is hardly a cloud in the sky. I can smell the Spring smells from the fields and countryside near us. We are fortunate here as just over the fence at the back of the garden is open countryside: you can hear the skylarks, smell the blossom from the trees. It feels good. I can also hear people cutting their lawns and catch the aroma of newly cut grass. I don't know about you but there are certain noises and smells that always evoke Spring & Summer - for me the noise of lawn mowers and the smell of freshly cut grass are a couple of those triggers. They get rid of the grey drab winter days. They encourage the positive thoughts, make you want to go outside and enjoy the feelings. I want to pick my camera up and walk over the fields and record it - only one trouble I cannot walk very well.</p> <p>So we come back full circle. I want the Chemo session to get rid of this cancer so I can experience the changing seasons, get out and record the change and keep some of those changes if I can capture the images in a worthwhile way. So I say to myself now, my blood is strong and I will have the second chemo session and it will kill more of the cancer and I will get out there.</p> <p>Yes I am posting this blog and ...... I'll be back </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/07/second-chemo-session-4142964/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/05/07/second-chemo-session-4142964/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/29/chemo-after-effects-4110380/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-29:/2008/04/29/chemo-after-effects-4110380/Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:45:21 +0200 <p>I have not posted much in the last few days so I thought it was time I came back to add more. </p> <p>It is now 12 days or so since I had my first chemo session. To be honest with you I was petrified when I went into the chemo suite at the hospital for that first time. I had heard all sorts of horror stories: how bad it was to take it in the first place, how bad and nasty you felt, how bad the side effects were etc.</p> <p>I have already mentioned the actual session in a previous blog. No, it was not as bad as I had been lead to believe. Any fear was minimised by the calm and caring staff.</p> <p>The after effects and side effects have now been with me for the 12 day period. The worst has been the absolute exhaustion and fatigue. I have been so tired that on many occasions I fallen asleep in mid email - yes nodding off while actually writing a message! Can you believe it? As for late nights they are a thing of the past - I cannot keep awake after 8.00pm - it is agood job I can record my favourite TV programs as otherwise I would miss them. I find my self waking up after sleeping for 45 minutes or so - not going to sleep, waking up. I have no recollection of going to sleep just coming to again. </p> <p>I cannot describe how tired I feel. The exhaustion is with you all the time. I go into a deep deep sleep but my mind is till active all the time. What does that mean? Well I was fast asleep the other night and I was dreaming I was reading the paper - I woke up. I was sitting up in bed, turning the pages of the newspaper which was not there - weird. The same sometimes happens with talking. I am fast asleep in the lounge and I was convinced some one was calling me. This time I replied by saying "I am here" - I woke up and Sarah was laughing her head off. She had never heard me talk so clearly in my sleep before in spite of the practice I had had as a Lawyer.</p> <p>I am relieved to be able to say that I have not had any nasty side effects or after effects at all. The anti side effects drugs worked as they were supposed to.</p> <p>I have also felt better - in relative terms perhaps but better. While I can say that I am not looking forward to the next Chemo session my fear of it has virtually gone. This is what is going to get me through this thing. So give me a great big cheer for the next chemo session on the 8 May </p> <p>I'll be back </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/29/chemo-after-effects-4110380/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/29/chemo-after-effects-4110380/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/23/medical-team-4083868/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-23:/2008/04/23/medical-team-4083868/Wed, 23 Apr 2008 14:56:55 +0200 <p>I have been amazed at the support and help I have received from friends and family but have so far not mentioned the Doctors and Nurses and Carers who are also part of the journey.</p> <p>So far I have seen 6 Specialists. There were two Ear Nose & Throat specialists who were in charge of the the thyroplasty operation. There was also the Ward nurses looking after me both before and after the operation. The amount of staff in the operation theatre were too numerous to count. All had a function and all performed that function with what appeared to me quiet professionalism. They all seemed to know precisely what to do and when - after I time I was given an anaesthetic so lost track from there! The anaesthetist had his own assistants as well. The nursing care in the Ward was also of the highest calibre.</p> <p>I also saw a Heart Consultant (3rd Specialist) at the beginning of the road: he had his team. I have also seen a Voice Therapist to get my voice to as close to what it was before all this started.</p> <p>The teams dealing directly with the cancer side of the treatment and the cancer diagnosis make up the rest of the medical teams. Three Specialists. Nurses. Carers. Macmillan Nurse. Chemotherapy Nurses and General Support Staff. All have helped me. All have explained things clearly including some things a hundred and one different times: you tend to get so much information that it goes in one ear and out the other. They have shown limitless amounts of patience and compassion. I guess again it reinforces the goodness of human nature.</p> <p>I am not going to be cynical here and say it is simply their job. It goes further than this. I have been struck by the tangible desire from others to help.</p> <p>Lance Armstrong's books and the various other books I have read do speculate whether the cancer patients attitude to others is changed by the experience of the illness: from my perspective I will say it does change your perspective: I think a change for the better. </p> <p>Finally thank you to my GP and the surgery: the GP often gets left out of all this. Sometimes the principal caring is by the hospital and staff but not always. There is also a pharmacist attached to the surgery - I can renew my prescriptions by email. It does feel strange when the pharmacist knows your name. Your Pub Landlord yes - but not your pharmacist</p> <p>So a BIG THANK YOU from Sarah and I to all the medical people who are involved in all this at the moment and who remain to get involved.</p> <p>I'll be back</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/23/medical-team-4083868/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/23/medical-team-4083868/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/19/support-4065651/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-19:/2008/04/19/support-4065651/Sat, 19 Apr 2008 13:44:17 +0200 <p>You will have seen at the top of my site some photographs of Sarah's and my parrots. We have three: two African Greys and one Black Headed Caique - he is called Jasper. For want of a better name!! Jasper Carrot?! comedian and he is just that.</p> <p>Any way this post is not really about Jasper but about the frienship and support that being part of something can bring you. </p> <p>I have been fascinated by feathered birds all my life and a very close friend of mine breeds them.</p> <p>We decided to see if we could hand rear a bird from the egg. My friend had just had a clutch of Caique eggs laid and only one survived. I said I would take him on when he was old enough and my friend would do the hard part the hand rearing.</p> <p>At the same time Sarah joined us to a Caique website. This site is a forum for sharing info and giving assistance to Caique and other parrot owners. We got to know a lot of people on the site and eventually we wrote a story about Jasper growing up from hatching onwards and posted regularly on the site. We attached photographs and made a light hearted thing to entertain as well as, we hoped, show that it could be done. It was quite succesful and I am told provided much entertainment. Nearly as much as the little dude gives us!</p> <p>Sarah and I became firm friends with all on the Caique site. When I developed cancer I found it difficult to spare the time to go onto the site. When I wasn't having tests I was sleeping!! - or thats what it seemed. I was told I was missed. The Caique site members wanted to know where we were what we doing and how we were. When I told them, they were shocked. I then started to get supportive messages and culminating in receiving a message of support, encouragement and friendship from the site members. </p> <p>See the link for some of these messages of support   </p> <p><a href="http://www.baywood-pets.co.uk/guestbook/get-well-david/index.php"><a href="http://www.baywood-pets.co.uk/guestbook/get-well-david/index.php">http://www.baywood-pets.co.uk/guestbook/get-well-david/index.php</a></a></p> <p>It was clear that, apart from the direct support I have received from family and friends I have met, there are friends (who I have never met face to face) who are supporting me and helping me. This is a joy to me and fills me with emotion whenever I think of it. The fact that people will go the extra mile to help someone they have not met is wonderful - it restores your faith in human nature. The help from friends and family you see on a regular or irregular basis is no less touching but is easier to explain. From those you have not met is awesome. So thank you guys for your help support and strength - it will make me fight harder to lick this thing.</p> <p>To everyone else out there think of this - the power of your support to help others is without limit. Practice it as many times as you can and never let it go.</p> <p>The link to the Caique site if you want to look is </p> <p><a href="http://www.caique-crazy-capers.co.uk/"><a href="http://www.caique-crazy-capers.co.uk/">http://www.caique-crazy-capers.co.uk/</a></a></p> <p>I'll be back! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/19/support-4065651/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/19/support-4065651/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/18/chemo-4061192/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-18:/2008/04/18/chemo-4061192/Fri, 18 Apr 2008 12:16:13 +0200 <p>I had my first Chemo session yesterday. I have to study the correct spelling of chemotherapy - I thought it was spelt like that, but I think I may be wrong and it is spelt chaemotherapy. </p> <p>We arrived at the hospital at the appointment time of 9.30am to see the Specialist who briefed me on what to expect. I was introduced to the support nurses and the staff generally - all very friendly. </p> <p>I was told that I would be having a broad spectrum treatment because so far the medics have been unable to determine the primary source of my cancer. I was sent off for blood tests - all came back clear - and was then told to come back at about 11.30am to have the chemo session. I had a very helpful discussion with the a nurse. </p> <p>We went off for a coffee and arrived back in the department in time for the appointment. We had to wait our turn and went through at about 12.15pm. We went through into the department and found a chair which looked like a giant electronic recliner. After going through all the identification checks I was given a saline drip and drugs for anti-sickness and one to stop/reduce any allergic reactions to the drugs. They told me about 2 hours in total. </p> <p>We started and a volunteer arrived seeing whether I wanted any sandwiches for lunch so I chose cheese sandwiches an orange drink and a pot of chocolate mousse! Sarah and I shared this. The nurses were satisfied that everything was going correctly and apart from checking up from time to time I was not pestered at all. I was reassured that the nurses were there and visible if you needed any help. Indeed before being given the chemo drugs, the drugs had been checked by a total of 8 people! This was to make sure that I was getting the correct ones. The identification checks and controls are very rigid. There is no chance of the wrong medication being dispensed.</p> <p>When it came to starting on the second chemical all the identification checks etc were repeated and we started on the second. The rate of flow of the second chemical was considerably quicker than the first one. I felt a cold sensation around the needle in my hand and a bit dizzy, so the nurses reduced the rate of flow down quite considerably. What should have taken half an hour took just over an hour and a half. This was finished, I was given more anti-sickness drugs and immune system boosting drugs and allowed to go home. </p> <p>We got home about 5pm - a long day. Side effects today are mainly tiredness, a bit of forgetfulness and a sicky feeling, otherwise not too bad. Certainly not as bad as I had been anticipating! I was very apprehensive before hand. I'm hoping that this is the worst it gets!</p> <p>I am back to the hospital today for an injection and also to have my staples removed from my neck - see the blog about my operation. </p> <p>The next chemo session is around about 8th May. </p> <p>I'll be back! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/18/chemo-4061192/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>chemohttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/18/chemo-4061192/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/12/first-operation-feeling-fine-4032969/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-12:/2008/04/12/first-operation-feeling-fine-4032969/Sat, 12 Apr 2008 08:59:58 +0200 <p>Having checked in to the hospital, there was only a short wait before doctors and nurses a plenty were buzzing round David's bed. They asked lots of questions, prodded and poked before it was time for me to leave. </p> <p>After a grim wait, I finally got to the ward at a little before 2pm so that I could find out how David was. Those final minutes before 2pm seemed to tick away so slowly! As it happened when 2pm finally rolled around, David still wasn't back from theatre. It wasn't long however before he was wheeled back in, a little bleary eyed but smiling and waving. I wanted to ask 1001 questions, worse still, David wanted to answer them - he forgot himself a couple of times and actually did utter odd things. I had thought about this already though and although I did ask plenty of questions, I had taken a pencil and pad so he could converse. </p> <p>The operation was successful, although they had to do a general anaesthetic at the last moment. There's 2 long days ahead or David. He is not supposed to speak and he has a long, long list of after care instructions including special food, steam treatments for his voice and other things. If I get my way, I'll spoil him rotten with all his favourites! It seems only right to do this after he's had such a terrible couple of weeks - a small thing in the grand scheme of things.</p> <p>What David did say, or rather scribble down was that he was feeling better than he had done for weeks. His voice was considerably stronger - he'd been asked to say a couple of things back in recovery! His hearing was also better, having had recent difficulties. The pain had subsided, this though I think, is a result of the increased morphine dose. </p> <p>Visiting time quickly came to an end, so I dashed off for a spot of dinner and a spot of calling people/texting others with updates. The 2 hour window went by quickly and I was able to dash back to see him. I got there to see a different man from that which I'd left at 10am in the morning. David was very bright, had a brighter complexion and generally looked well. He'd eaten plenty and devoured the creme caramel that I'd brought along for him as a little treat. He was very envious when the gentleman in the neighbouring bed had a second dinner so I managed to get something extra from the nurses for David too. This was polished off in no time. He was sat on the side of his bed happily "chatting" away with his pad and giving instructions on things for me to do for him. His dressing came loose through the evening revealing a wound of approximately 2 inches. It was neat but I joked he looked a little like Frankenstein! I got a playful swipe around the head for that<img src="/img/smilies/icon_lol.gif" alt=":DD" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>This morning I got a text from David to say that his sleep was deep but a little disturbed. The pain wasn't too bad - finally I think the Morphine does is correct - his wound had been draining okay and hopefully he would be discharged around lunchtime. </p> <p>I'm counting down the minutes.............</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/12/first-operation-feeling-fine-4032969/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/12/first-operation-feeling-fine-4032969/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/10/progress-4026269/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-10:/2008/04/10/progress-4026269/Thu, 10 Apr 2008 17:33:49 +0200 <p>I have seen my specialist again and, apparently, there is some difficulty in the results of the tests in determining where the primary cancer is. This is not particularly good news as, I am told, it means the Doctors cannot be too specific in the chemotherapy treatment chemicals. I will be prescribed broad spectrum chemicals. My chemotherapy starts next week - Friday 18 April. I will be glad when it starts because we need now to be bashing the living daylights out of the cancer. The chemicals being used are Docetaxel and Carboplatin.</p> <p>I am anxious to get it started now as it does seem a long time since the original diagnosis was dropped on me. Bring it on and lets attack the cancer!!</p> <p>Tomorrow 11 April I go into the hospital to have the voice box operation to improve my voice. I have mentioned to you that whatever is in the lung has trapped one of the nerves to my voice box causing my voice to go very quiet, breathy and at times uncomfortable. The operation - thyroplasty I believe - will hopefully make it easier to talk. The working side of the voice box is working too hard at the moment so packing is put in the voice box to allow the good side to work less hard. It therefore improves the voice as a consequence. I am no Doctor and this explanation may be far too simplistic to satisfy the Doctors reading this - if there are any reading it!</p> <p>I come home on Saturday and I hope my voice will be a lot better. I am not allowed to talk for 2 days so will not find out immediately. Silenced for 2 days - some might say that is good!!</p> <p>It has been a hectic week as always. Spent much of the week trying to get the level and strength of my medication correct. The Macmillan nurse has been tremendous help here - liaising with GPs and sorting out dosage. They are wonderful.</p> <p>I need to say thank you to Frances Songhurst. She is a therapist. She has helped me in the past and has and is helping me now. The power of the mind needs exploring to be believed. She pulls out the postive thoughts and strengths to attack the cancer.</p> <p>See you next week. </p> <p>I'll be back </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/10/progress-4026269/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/10/progress-4026269/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/04/how-are-you-today-3994418/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-04:/2008/04/04/how-are-you-today-3994418/Fri, 04 Apr 2008 10:59:34 +0200 <p>Not many people have asked how I feel mentally now that I know I have cancer. One or two have but not many. I think my reaction now after a bit of reflection is that I have to accept that I have it. If I don't accept that I have it, I can't fight that which I don't have. </p> <p>My initial reaction was somewhere between absolutely total surprise and anger. Surprise that it is happening to me and anger that I could not stop it invading me. As I do this note I do not know what caused the cancer in the first place; whether I ever will find out remains to be seen. </p> <p>I have periods of blank despair. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to think, I don't know how to react, I don't know how to move. It is as though the despair shuts you down. I guess that it is that despair which I have to get rid of to keep the positive thoughts, actions and drives in the forefront of my conscious and sub-conscious mind. </p> <p>I do not know whether I am particularly religious. There have been times in my life when I have felt more faith and there have been times when I have had no faith. At the moment, I don't know where I am on this but I have to make a conscious thought and belief as I am going to be beat this thing and get better. Whether this is any different than being religious I do not know; if you have faith in getting better this might be the same thing as a belief in whatever religion you follow. I will no doubt have further thoughts and possibly discussions on this aspect.</p> <p>I have recently read a book written by Lance Armstrong who is a professional cyclist who had cancer in the 1990s. The book is about his fight to beat the disease. He did beat it. What emerged from the book was his tremendous focus and determination on beating it and getting back on his bike. The highlight of the book was when he describes winning the Tour de France after he'd beaten the cancer. Whether I have the same single minded focus of a professional athlete, I do not know, but I do need to develop the singleness of purpose to overcome the cancer. Sarah thinks I have because I'm a lawyer! I can see many arguments but I won't go into that!</p> <p>I am also trying to keep my sense of humour. One thing that I find very difficult to deal with is the expression on people's faces when they find out I have cancer. I invariably try and lighten the mood with the sense of humour. That works for me and it works for most other people, although it does seem to me sometimes that I am comforting them, not the other way around! </p> <p>I am strengthened by the incredible expressions of support I am receiving, both on this site and in other ways. People I haven't seen for years are getting in touch with me. My family and friends are supportive. My wife Sarah is an absolute rock, she is always there for me and is total strength. </p> <p>The Macmillan Nurse also came to see me for the first time yesterday. I had been referred to them by my friend's wife herself a Cancer Counsellor. Her and her husband have been very supportive. The Macmillan nurse was very helpful. I now have a contact within the Health Service that I can get in touch with for help and advice at any time. Her greatest contribution so far has been to put my medication in order as I was getting a bit confused with dosage. </p> <p>My family and my many other friends have also been supportive in different ways. Some have offered to cook on a regular basis for us, others have offered to look after our parrots and others have just offered their unconditional help. </p> <p>I'm off to kick this cancer into touch. I'll be back!</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/04/how-are-you-today-3994418/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/04/how-are-you-today-3994418/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/02/tests-tests-and-more-tests-3986710/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-04-02:/2008/04/02/tests-tests-and-more-tests-3986710/Wed, 02 Apr 2008 17:55:07 +0200 <p class="MsoBodyText">It seems ironic (and not in a good way) that the date we first saw the Cardiologist was Valentines Day.<span>  </span>Personally, I think that he (the cardiologist) had a pretty good idea of what he thought might be wrong after he had examined David.<span>  </span>He immediately ruled out heart problems, which at the time felt like a relief.<span>  </span>Quite what I thought the pain might be caused by, I haven&rsquo;t a clue.<span>  </span>It certainly hadn&rsquo;t crossed my mind that it could be cancer.<span>  </span>The pain had been that bad that David had barely had 2 hours sleep per night.<span>  </span>He ordered David to take a number of tests and it was these that lead to the diagnosis.<span>  </span></p>  <br> <p class="MsoBodyText">We visited the hospital on 18^th February for David to give blood to carry out testing &ndash; whilst I can&rsquo;t recall now all the tests, what I can tell you is that it was practically a full blood MOT.<span>  </span>I remember going in with David whilst he had the blood taken, his voice was still not particularly strong.<span>  </span>They seemed to just keep lining up the little blood sample bottles until David asked whether they were going to leave him with any blood to take home.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoBodyText">Next on 22^nd February David had an x-ray on his shoulder then we wrangled a bit with BUPA as they were being a bit awkward about his bone scan.<span>  </span>They wouldn&rsquo;t cover it if it was just a routine bone density test.<span>  </span>This made me quite frustrated.<span>  </span>After numerous telephone calls I managed to find out that it was a Nuclear Medicine Bone Scan, so BUPA would cough up &ndash; phew!<span>  </span>So on 28^th February we went back to the Hospital for this scan.<span>  </span>Like many other scans, David had to be injected with some form of radioactive matter, which needed to circulate round his body for a while before the proper scan could begin.<span>  </span>After the injection they took some initial pictures to see how well the fluid was circulating through David&rsquo;s body.<span>  </span>We were then sent down to the x-ray department for David to have an x-ray on his chest.<span>  </span>It was all very efficient and quick.<span>  </span>After this we had to sit and wait for about an hour before the scan would take place. <span> </span>The scan itself took about 45 minutes then we could leave, there was no special after care advice, we could simply carry on as before.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoBodyText">It seems so long ago, yet it is only just over 3 weeks ago since we learned of David&rsquo;s diagnosis on 4^th March.<span>  </span>Since then we&rsquo;ve kind of been in limbo &ndash; we know that there&rsquo;s this nasty presence, just lurking in David&rsquo;s body and making him feel lethargic and lifeless and making our hearts break.<span>  </span>We&rsquo;re told how well we&rsquo;re coping.<span>  </span>The reality is we can&rsquo;t go around crying all the time.<span>  </span>That&rsquo;s not to say that I haven&rsquo;t done this.<span>  </span>I feel like I&rsquo;ve cried more in this last 3 weeks that I&rsquo;ve cried in my whole life.<span>  </span>It&rsquo;s good to cry, the release makes you feel better, but it&rsquo;s draining as it sucks the energy from your body, makes your eyes heavy and your heart heavier.<span>  </span>There does come a time though, when the tears begin to dry up.<span>  </span>It&rsquo;s not because you feel any better, it&rsquo;s just that you learn to deal with what you&rsquo;ve learnt.<span>  </span></p>  <br> <p class="MsoBodyText"><em>&ldquo;there&rsquo;s no condition that man cannot learn to deal with&rdquo;</em></p>  <br> <p class="MsoBodyText">I like quotes, and that was a quote on my calendar from a week or two ago &ndash; it seemed almost to have been written for me.<span>  </span></p>  <br> <p class="MsoBodyText">5^th March we went for a CT Scan, 6^th March back to the same hospital for a biopsy and yet more blood tests.<span>  </span>The doctor was very helpful and explained to us that it would be easier for him but less good for David if he could take a biopsy from David&rsquo;s neck.<span>  </span>He quickly palpated the area and then used his ultrasound machine to check around David&rsquo;s neck.<span>  </span>He found a small node of no consequence on David&rsquo;s thyroid.<span>  </span>Strike one for the good guys &ndash; it was better news for us, as if the cancer had spread to David&rsquo;s neck it was not going to be good news.<span>  </span>At this stage, the doctor placed films of David&rsquo;s CT scan onto his light box and we saw for the first time the clear evidence of the tumour on David&rsquo;s lung, as well as seeing the tumours on the his ribs.<span>  </span>Whilst it was horrifying to see this, it was also interesting in a gruesome kind of way.<span>  </span>David&rsquo;s many years of hard work in the gym were clear as the specialist pointed out the impressive bulk of muscle mass around the shoulders and back.<span>  </span></p>  <br> <p class="MsoBodyText">The specialist to cleanse the area had to paint David&rsquo;s back with an iodine like solution &ndash; to lighten the mood we joked that perhaps he shouldn&rsquo;t give up his day job to work as a tan artist!<span>  </span>I think this helped as little as it took David&rsquo;s mind away a little bit from the enormous needle that was to take the biopsy.<span>  </span>Due to where the cancer was, the specialist had to try and reach under the scapula to do the biopsy, to do this, David had to hold his arm across his chest to open up the area.<span>  </span>The area had been numbed a little before this, so although David could feel the needle poking around inside, it wasn&rsquo;t actually as painful as he thought it might have been.<span>  </span>Two samples were taken ready to be tested.<span>  </span>We got to see the samples before we left, as they came direct from the bone, they were like very small white worms.<span>  </span>Normally, it would be very difficult and indeed painful to take a biopsy from the bone, but due to the damage from the tumour on the ribs, the bone tissue was very soft and weakened.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">We expected having done what seemed like every test possible that we would get a full prognosis at our next meeting with the specialist on 11^th March &ndash; unfortunately it was still too early and more tests needed to be done.<span>  </span>We were bitterly disappointed and also upset.<span>  </span>All we were told was that some radiotherapy could be done to help alleviate the pain and that would probably been about another week away.<span>  </span>Our shock and horror must have been evident.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">Just a week since the diagnosis, many things had happened.<span>  </span>David has started taking morphine for pain relief.<span>  </span>It was good and bad all at the same time.<span>  </span>The morphine took the pain away and enabled David to get sleep &ndash; GOOD, but gave you constipation and sickness at the same time &ndash; BAD.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">We mentioned previously that David had lost his voice whilst we were on holiday; initially there was just nothing there.<span>  </span>He could hardly whisper, it was super quiet.<span>  </span>We initially dismissed this as nothing serious, but after it didn&rsquo;t come back we organised to see an ENT specialist.<span>  </span>We saw him on 12^th March.<span>  </span>The specialist was really nice, someone who made you feel like you really liked him before he said anything.<span>  </span>He looked very cheerful, smiled a lot and just had a nice manner.<span>  </span>This all helped as this made our consultation go all the more smooth, even though what he had to say wasn&rsquo;t what he had hoped to hear.<span>  </span>The tumour was pressing on the nerves to the vocal cords.<span>  </span></p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">He got David to do a couple of exercises making &ldquo;eeee&rdquo; noises then used a mini camera to look at David&rsquo;s vocal cords.<span>  </span>From this examination he could see that David&rsquo;s left vocal cord wasn&rsquo;t moving and although David&rsquo;s voice was now considerably stronger than it had been when he first lost it, the lack of movement in the vocal cord was a problem.<span>  </span>The right vocal cord had now compensated for the left hence the improvement in voice. A procedure was outlined which might possibly improve the quality of David&rsquo;s voice but he felt the voice wouldn&rsquo;t ever go back to what it was.<span>  </span>I asked if the tumour shrank, would the voice return.<span>  </span>He said that he couldn&rsquo;t rule it out, but that he was doubtful.<span>  </span>Although this all sounded quite depressing, he was very upbeat and said he&rsquo;d do all he could to help.<span>  </span>He then also went on to explain more about the medications David was using and was in general a kind ear to listen to our woes.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">On our way to the ENT session that morning we had received a telephone call asking us to go for Radiotherapy planning that afternoon.<span>  </span>At that session David was tattooed and marked with indelible ink so that each subsequent radiotherapy session the rays were aimed at exactly the same spot.<span>  </span>The radiotherapy would begin the following day.<span>  </span>The radiotherapy was palliative only, which meant that it was only to give pain relief rather than to &ldquo;cure&rdquo; the cancer.<span>  </span></p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">We went on the 13^th, 14^th, 17^th, 18^th and 19^th for radiotherapy sessions.<span>  </span>They didn&rsquo;t last long.<span>  </span>A minute and a half on the front and then the same on the back &ndash; over and done very quickly.<span>  </span>All the nurses were very friendly and we met some lovely people who also had cancer or were supporting someone with cancer.<span>  </span>As a result of the radiotherapy, David&rsquo;s pain decreased and he was able to reduce his morphine does.<span>  </span>However, the radiotherapy made David overwhelmingly tired and I began to feel like I was living on my own, or with a ghost.<span>  </span>When David was awake, he wasn&rsquo;t saying anything and sitting in silence.<span>  </span>This was extremely difficult.<span>  </span>I was still grieving for David&rsquo;s lost health and the future that was now uncertain.<span>  </span>I still am grieving for those things.<span>  </span>I probably always will, but I&rsquo;ll have to come to terms with that.<span>  </span></p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally on 14^th March we met a new specialist who appeared to have a more positive outlook and whilst he still couldn&rsquo;t pin down the primary cancer his thoughts gave us more peace of mind than we had previously.<span>  </span>He requested more tests, a Renogram &ndash; that would give us an indication of how well David&rsquo;s kidneys were performing and whether he would be able to go through chemotherapy.<span>  </span>He also wanted a PET Scan &ndash; which could show a little clearer if the cancer had spread to any where else and I&rsquo;m also guessing that it might give an indication of a primary.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">15^th March we went out to a friends for dinner, it hadn&rsquo;t been a good day, the effects of radiotherapy were showing on David and he was experiencing nausea.<span>  </span>Unfortunately the meal made David quite ill and rather down hearted.<span>  </span>We didn&rsquo;t realise initially but David&rsquo;s taste buds would change dramatically.<span>  </span>That night taught us three things &ndash; one, was that garlic, whilst being a friend to our heart and circulatory system, was no long a friend to David as it caused waves of sickness.<span>  </span>Second was that oily dressings were also a no go area. The final thing we learnt was perhaps one of the worst for David.<span>  </span>Wine was no longer a pleasure for him, it was now tasting very acidic and unpleasant to drink.<span>  </span>One of life&rsquo;s pleasures had been taken away with that 6 letter word and the catalogue of medicines which he now had to take.<span>  </span>It seemed hard to think that just 6 months previously, he took no medicines at all and now he was popping pills just to try and live a comfortable pain free life.</p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">The Renogram was scheduled for 19^th March and the attendants told us that it would probably take around an hour to complete as most people needed to have a couple of injections.<span>  </span>We got there in good time expecting to be there for the duration.<span>  </span>Thankfully the renogram only took about 25 minutes, David&rsquo;s kidneys were draining properly and as such the test was cut short &ndash; some better news at last!</p>  <br> <p class="MsoNormal">This brings us up to 31^st March, the PET scan.<span>  </span>We had to go to a different hospital for this test and parking was something of a joke.<span>  </span>I had to drop David off and then park in the furthest, darkest area of the hospital campus possible then do a mad dash to get back to see David before his scan started.<span>  </span>I only just made it as he had just been called through as I raced in through the door.<span>  </span>We&rsquo;d both been worrying about the PET scan as David had to lie very still on his back whilst the scan was done &ndash; this would normally be very difficult due to the pain he was experiencing.<span>  </span>Thankfully a friend of ours who works in Oncology had been able to organise a sedative to help David relax whilst the scan was done.<span>  </span>When he went for his scan another radioactive dose was given to David and he then had to wait for approximately 45 minutes on his own whilst the substance took effect.<span>  </span>Apparently this substance was at it&rsquo;s most radioactive during this timescale so even the nurses vacated the room and left him sitting there on his own.<span>  </span>He says that he made some crack about being green and glowing &ndash; of course the nurse said that she wished she had a pound for every time someone had said that.<span>  </span>I guess she could have began her own retirement fund.<span>  </span>Then after that the scan took about an hour.<span>  </span>I&rsquo;ve given a link below with further information on the PET scan.</p>  <a href="http://www.cancerhelp.org.uk/help/default.asp?page=152"><a href="http://www.cancerhelp.org.uk/help/default.asp?page=152">http://www.cancerhelp.org.uk/help/default.asp?page=152</a></a><br> <br> <p class="MsoNormal">The results of the PET scan should be available to the Specialist after 48 hours, so I organised the next appointment with the specialist for Friday 4^th April around lunchtime.<br></p> <br> <p class="MsoNormal">That&rsquo;s all folks!</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/02/tests-tests-and-more-tests-3986710/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>x-rayradiotherapyprognosiscanceroncologypet-scanbiopsybone-densityrenogramhttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/04/02/tests-tests-and-more-tests-3986710/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/03/30/useful-cancer-related-links-3968405/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-03-30:/2008/03/30/useful-cancer-related-links-3968405/Sun, 30 Mar 2008 17:17:53 +0200 <p>Cancer, it's something that is talked about in hushed voices. Unless you've had to learn about it, I doubt it's something that you've ever really thought about. It's certainly something that I've never really thought too much about until recently. </p> <p>Unfortunately now, I find myself emersed in all this new jargon, this vile world of doubt, but also this world of hope, belief and blind faith. I have found it helpful, if a little scary to find out more. I have outlined below links which have lots of information about cancer, the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Not all the sites are english, but that doesn't really matter.</p> <p><a href="http://www.macmillan.org.uk/"><a href="http://www.macmillan.org.uk/">http://www.macmillan.org.uk/</a></a>  This organisation is wonderful, as well as providing a lot of information, they also have a number that you can call, to discuss your feelings, worries, or just to find out more information.   Their free phone number for the UK is 08000 898 500.</p> <p><a href="http://www.cancer.net/Cancer/cancer.html"><a href="http://www.cancer.net/Cancer/cancer.html">http://www.cancer.net/Cancer/cancer.html</a></a>  An American site with lots of helpful information.</p> <p><a href="http://www.roycastle.org/"><a href="http://www.roycastle.org/">http://www.roycastle.org/</a></a>  If you're of a certain age, you'll know who Roy was, a wonderful man who has managed even after his own death to bring about a real change to the lives of many others.  Again there's a lot of useful information, so do check it out.</p> <p><a href="http://www.cancerhelp.org.uk/default.asp"><a href="http://www.cancerhelp.org.uk/default.asp">http://www.cancerhelp.org.uk/default.asp</a></a>  Cancer Research's website - all the information you could ever need and more.<br> <br><a href="http://www.livestrong.org/site/c.khLXK1PxHmF/b.2660611/k.BCED/Home.htm"><a href="http://www.livestrong.org/site/c.khLXK1PxHmF/b.2660611/k.BCED/Home.htm">http://www.livestrong.org/site/c.khLXK1PxHmF/b.2660611/k.BCED/Home.htm</a></a> This is a truely inspirational site.  If you haven't read Lance Armstrong's book, dash out and get it now.  Lance talks about his journey through cancer and how he has used his experiences to help others.</p> <p>I am wading through other books at the moment, but I have found these links really most helpful. </p> <p>Whilst I like to learn about new things, I feel quite ashamed that I am having to learn about something that could affect any of us.  </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/03/30/useful-cancer-related-links-3968405/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/03/30/useful-cancer-related-links-3968405/#commentshttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/03/29/will-things-ever-be-the-same-again-3963504/tag:davidpell.blog.co.uk,2008-03-29:/2008/03/29/will-things-ever-be-the-same-again-3963504/Sat, 29 Mar 2008 19:08:33 +0100 <p>I guess you could say that the story started back in December. A couple of colds, nothing that wasn't expected for the time of year, but a bad cough had taken hold. </p> <p>I'd recently completed a fantastic photography course, a present from my Wife, Sarah and we were going out with the Photographer that I had done the course with, to celebrate my achievements on the course. I wasn't going to miss that just for a cough! We were driving to meet our friends when I started coughing and couldn't stop, I coughed and coughed then all of a sudden, I felt a "ping" sensation in my chest - I was in agony. I couldn't move my left arm very well, I had terrific pains in my chest and felt absolutely terrible. Looking back, I'm not sure why we carried on, but we did. We went out that evening and I struggled, I couldn't even reach for the poppadoms on the table without being gripped by pain - even laughing was and talking was an effort! Sarah was concerned but I don't think she realised quite how bad it was. </p> <p>At the end of the evening we dashed off to the local community hospital, rather than going to the main A&E in the city. We thought we'd get seen quicker that way. They checked my heart as they were concerned because I had pains in my chest - my ECG was clear. I was given a couple of pain killers, patted on the head and sent home and told to go to the doctors if it didn't get better. </p> <p>That was mid December. By the end of December the pain hadn't really got any better so I bit the bullet and went to the A&E in the city. They gave me a thorough examination and decided that I had more than likely injured my costal cartillage and torn a pectoral muscle. I wasn't 100% sure what the costal cartillage was, so I spent a little time looking through some medical books which we have to find out. </p> <p>I was told that I'd be in pain for a little while, but I was given anti-inflammatory pills which seemed to help. I was grateful that it was nothing more serious and went home feeling more reassured. </p> <p>To cut a long story short, the pain continued and was brought to a head whilst I was on holiday in early February. I lost my voice early in the holiday for what to me seemed to be no apparent reason. We'd been out and had a good day skiing and generally relaxing but had come back to the Condo early because of heavy winds. We'd been in the condo for about an hour when I started to feel quite poorly. The pain was getting much worse and I began to feel dizzy and sick and eventually fainted. </p> <p>I was taken to hospital by the very efficient Canadian emergency services who concluded that because of my low heart rate and at the time, very low blood pressure that it was my heart. They recommended I see a cardiologist on my return home. </p> <p>I saw the Cardiologist who was quite satisfied that there was nothing wrong with my heart but wanted to investigate why the pain was there and what was going off with it. When the x-ray pictures, the bone scans and blood test results were available, the cardiologist called me back for my results. No one could have prepared me for what we were to hear next. </p> <p>He said the x-rays appeared to him to show evidence of bone cancer. He there and then arranged for me to see one of his colleagues, a Radiologist/Oncologist that evening. We were in total shock. The radiologist confirmed the opinion of bone cancer. He then went on to examine me and also to pass on even more bad news. He thought that my loss of voice was perhaps connected to a possible cancer on my lungs.</p> <p>The specialist was really kind, whilst being brutually honest, some of what he was saying went in, other bits of what he was saying drifted over my head. Essentially all I heard was more tests, cancer, more tests, cancer. Life as Sarah and I knew it would never be the same again. </p> <p>The next 10 days saw me having more needles being stuck in me than I could ever remember, having more x-rays, scans and ultrasounds than I could ever have dreamt of and this was only the beginning.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/03/29/will-things-ever-be-the-same-again-3963504/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>paincancerill-healthhttp://davidpell.blog.co.uk/2008/03/29/will-things-ever-be-the-same-again-3963504/#comments