Dear wonderful friends,

Mum continues to recover brilliantly. Today, she picked up her phone for the first time and was blown away by the amount of messages of love and support she’s receiving. She actually felt quite teary at how lucky and loved she felt. What better medicine!

So thank you to everyone for all your blog posts comments, text messages, emails, calls and thoughts. Mum is receiving them ALL.

She’s asked us to write this blog post to let you know she apologises for not being able to reply. She wants to reply to each and every one, but she’s being ordered to sleep. So please know that even if you don’t get a reply, she has received your messages and thanks you hugely. They really really mean a lot to her (and us too!).

Love all round!

xxxx

 

 

Neil here
Well a walk on Crownhill ward . Ceri walked up and down the ward yesterday with lots of wires and drains and managed it all very well. Her most pressing question was ‘how do I look from the back ?”The treatment she has had has been fantastic.I managed to be ticked off for sitting on the bed as was her brother David Lloyd for doing the same thing. It was lovely to share the weekend with Cara Andrew Marc and Sarah. Toni visited today as well. She met the surgeon again today who was very pleased with her progress . She had a cup of tea this afternoon as well.

“Ahhhh… what a lovely day” were some of Mum’s first words as they wheeled her from the HDU (high dependency unit) to her recovery ward.

So family and friends, we are pleased to say… Mum is doing really well!

An absolute inspiration to us all, Mum was a bundle of energy and giggles as we waited to get her into surgery. Posing with her surgical socks, not showing any signs of worry for what was ahead. Just sheer determination to rid her body of Deirdre, whilst always holding her smile, and raising others. This mindset continued, after 8 hours under the knife mum reappeared with many tubes, and greeted us with a rather loud “I ammmm doooiiingg fiiiinee!!” bellowing through the oxygen masks.

From the two Mum quotes we’ve shared so far in this blog post, you might be able to tell…morphine is mum’s new best friend this weekend. And we’re thankful! As she has a long few days ahead of her now whilst her body heals and her dependency on the tubes lessens.

Yesterday was a long day of waiting, but in true Mum style she sent us (Neil, Marc, Cara and Sarah) off to the Plymouth Gin distillery and out for lunch. She would have hated us waiting in the hospital the whole time. Despite all our minds thinking of mum all afternoon as you would expect, we ended up having a lovely afternoon together.

And boy was it a long day. She went into surgery around 9am, escorted by a handsome young healthcare assistant (you can tell Cara wrote this bit) and into the hands of an accomplished surgeon. We knew she was in great hands. We were extremely relieved she was actually going to have the surgery that day as 30 minutes before we were told there was a strong chance of not enough beds. But there were, phew!

We all got back to the hospital around 6pm, ordered our cups of tea and waited for Grant, mum’s surgeon, to call. The wait was only half a cup of tea. Mum was out of surgery!! We knew there would be an hour or so before we’d be reunited, but we wanted to be there to greet our mum to her new temporary home, Crownhill Ward, where she will be for about a week.

It was here where we first saw mum, as mentioned before. Tears were shed. But tears of absolute relief and happiness. The surgery went according to plan. A few intercostal pains, but that’s expected considering the severity of the operation. Our lovely mother, your lovely wife, daughter, sister, auntie, step mother, cousin, friend, is on the mend!! And thank you for all your lovely messages, we’ve shared them all with her.

We’ll leave you with a lovely poem Neil had written yesterday, and shared with us. Neil has been nothing short of amazing. They make the perfect couple.

Getting All The Dominoes In Line

 

And so she goes

Spreadsheet ready

Card sent to Dot

Amnesty adding up

All dominoes in line

 

And so she goes

Neil will cope

But will he put out the bins

Els to phone

All dominoes in line

 

And so she goes

Just thinking of others

Never thoughts for self

Just finished the blog

All dominoes in line

 

And so she goes

Headlong to Plymouth

With no care in the world

Such courage to see

If ever there were spirit

We should bottle it so

 

Written 05.20 day before op

Neil

 

We are just returning on the train from Ilkley in Yorkshire after 4 enjoyable days with Neil’s sister Joy and Peter. I’ve always wanted to visit Castle Howard, so we did and there were hardly any visitors there. The house is absolutely stunning, then we wandered through the beautiful gardens in a rather strange light. The sun was amber as it struggled to penetrate the Saharan dust blown high into the atmosphere by the remnants of hurricane Ophelia. It was a wonderful day and another ticked off my bucket list. Next day we caught up with friends for lunch and visited Hockney’s work in Saltaire. I have to confess I was so tired by the end that I slept almost 14 hours yesterday evening and last night. I forget sometimes that I’m not quite running on all cylinders.

 After quite a lot of researching the internet, we opted for laparoscopic surgery. Since surgeons in general can’t decide which is better, hence the ROMIO study, then I might as well go with the minimal invasion method, and deal with any complications as they arise. Since it’s our decision, I’ll accept whatever comes my way. I know I’m in safe hands as Grant Sanders has performed both surgeries many times and I couldn’t ask for more.
I had my last required blood test in Ilkley on Tuesday which showed my neutrophils down to 1.08. They should be 1.5 but Mr Sanders’ specialist nurse Marilyn assured us that he explained he’s happy to go ahead with the surgery so long as they stay above 1.0. Phew. I’m geared up and ready to deal deathly blows to the dastardly, dreaded Deirdre. For some reason, I’m not nervous at all. I just want it done. I’ll be under a general all day (good job I’m not military!) and won’t come round until well into Friday evening. I’ll ask Neil and/or Cara/Marc to give an update here on Saturday.
Neil is intending to take Cara, Marc and Sarah on a short tour to the Plymouth Gin distillery while I’m under. It’s a perfect way to spend the afternoon and nurse Marilyn agreed absolutely. There’s nothing they can do all day except wait. If it were Neil having surgery, I’d definitely be on the gin!!

Thursday evening we’ll all check into the Lodge (http://www.heartswelllodge.co.uk ) at Derresford hospital which looks lovely. It’s just for patients and relatives. Seeing as I’m supposed to rest between now and Friday morning to get my neutrophils up, I’ll end here.
Thanks to everyone who has sent encouraging emails. I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to reply to all, but its great having so much encouragement from so many friends. Thank you.
See you on the other side!!!!

Big day yesterday! Neil and I drove to Plymouth for my pre-op assessments which all went well. The cycling test did made me smile. When Neil and I are out and about cycling, I’m very used to smiling my way up the hills, pretending to Neil that I’m absolutely fine, whereas in fact, my heart is racing, legs burning, and I cant wait to stop and simply die on the side of the road. Well, there I was on the exercise bike cycling ‘up hill’, all wired up to an echocardiogram, with a mask over my face to monitor my breathing making me feel rather like Miss Piggy. The anaesthetist in charge of the tests was training a nurse, so he gave a running commentary on my progress which was also appearing on graphs on screens. I started well and effortlessly, but as the make-believe hill got steeper, I slowly reached that point when my breathing quickened, my thighs started to burn and I couldn’t wait to stop. Aerobic had turned to anaerobic respiration. But as usual, I continued to pretend I was effortlessly cycling uphill, pride intact. Yet he could see what was happening on the screens and he quietly explained to the nurse that I was faking it! Well, in a kinder way, saying I was probably an experienced cyclist masking my true tiredness!! HA!! Cheek of it!! But he got me ….. busted …. straight away!! Will Neil ever trust my cycling face again? Alas.

Anyway, my lungs and heart performed well so I’m fit for surgery.

So in Plymouth, I had the usual blood tests and met my new nurses who were absolutely lovely, and the best part was meeting my surgeon Mr Grant Sanders. We’d been told a couple of weeks earlier that Mr Richard Berresford was unavailable on 20th October but I forgot to update this. What’s great about our NHS system is that we have certain hospitals designated to become specialist centres for certain types of surgery. Plymouth has become the centre for the Upper GI operations which is why all oesophagectomies are performed there.  I’m sure Exeter, which is much closer, is a specialist hospital for other types of surgery. It’s a great system as if one specialist surgeon is away for any reason, then any one of that team of surgeons is equally qualified to perform that operation.  Neil and I were extremely impressed meeting Grant Sanders and liked him very much.

He explained patiently and in detail about what my surgery would entail. Obviously it will be under general anaesthetic as its a big operation. Basically they’ll create a tube from the top part of my stomach which will replace my oesophagus, then cut out my oesophagus, and join the new tube to my throat.

First they need to free up my stomach, so they’ll either make a 10” cut under my chest for open surgery, or make 5 or 6 smaller cuts in my tummy front for laparoscopic surgery, or, I could become a trial patient in a study called the R.O.M.I.O. study, where I won’t know which method they perform on me, open or laparoscopic. They’ll monitor the recoveries of everyone in the trial to try to find out if one method is better than the other. Currently, both surgeries come with equal risk, but different risks, so Neil and I are discussing what to do.

Once the front part of surgery is done, then they’ll roll me on my side and make a 12” cut on my back running down behind my arm, and enter my body through my ribs to take out my cancerous oesophagus and replace it by pulling up the section cut from of my stomach they’ve made into a tube.

The operation takes between 7 and 8 hours. When I wake up, I’ll have tubes everywhere for a while as none of my digestive system will be working properly. Then as my body learns to pass food successfully through my system, slowly the relevant tubes will be removed until I’m free of them all. I should be in hospital in Plymouth for about 7 days, assuming there are no complications, then I can come home.

They’ve given me loads of literature which I haven’t read properly yet, but it’s good stuff. I love understanding everything, so I have leaflets on the pre-op stage, the operation itself, then the post-op phase. Most patients under estimate the severity of this surgery, so I’m hoping knowledge will be my armour. The specialist nurses assigned to me are very experienced. The lovely one we met yesterday referred to her surgeons as her ‘boys’. Having a brother with the same job, I could see what she means.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just admit I was exhausted yesterday in Plymouth during the whole process. But not due to worry, as one might reasonably imagine, but due lack of sleep because of singing! We had such a great choir practice the night before and ended singing Labi Siffre’s ‘Something inside so strong’. It sounds so powerful as part of a whole choir singing it. I used to sing it in the Rock Choir when I lived in Fleet. Maybe the phrase ‘Something inside so strong’ means a lot to me at the moment, I don’t know, as the rest of the lyrics don’t apply these days, but for whatever reason, every time I put my head on the pillow Monday night, determined to empty my brain of everything, I’d realise I was still singing it over and over. I reckon I had an hours sleep if at all!!

Monday was our last choir session before surgery as Neil and I are going to Yorkshire early next week, so next time I go, Deirdre will all be behind me. How amazing it that?

Last night I slept like a baby. Some dear friends joined me in my beacon walk today as Neil was at work. I really do feel back to normal these days as we walked and walked and talked the whole way, ending up back home for coffee and cake. We could all have walked miles further, but time was limited. I know that when I can do this post surgery, I’ll feel recovered (another goal). I’m eating almost everything these days and drinking my usual cups of tea and glasses of water. I seem to be off coffee and alcohol which is interesting. Maybe my body is fed up of drugs of all kinds including caffeine and alcohol. Who knows? And who cares anyway? I feel great. Thank you ladies for joining me today.

 

 

Singing uplifts everyone! Neil and I went to our local community choir rehearsal, Voiceworx, last night, as we do every Monday evening in Kentisbeare village hall. I’m not the best of singers, but it’s such a great mix of abilities that I’m never embarrassed and my singing is improving! Our choir master, Alan Boxer, is our very own Gareth Mallone. We’re so lucky. He’s a talented musician, motivator, composer, rock band member, and dear friend. Voiceworx is open to everyone with no audition. There’s usually about 100 of us, so I try to hide in the Alto section. But you can’t hide with Alan as we all end up singing our hearts out. It’s such good fun and the feel good factor lasts days. Deirdre doesn’t get a look in.

Well, last night I decided on another goal! Voiceworx is performing on 8th December in a huge concert locally in Uffculme and I’m determined to be singing in it. So long as I practice at home before and after surgery to make up for missed rehearsals, I should be fine. And I’m determined to get back to rehearsals as soon as possible after my surgery. I know Alan won’t mind if I start off a bit croaky. That’s what’s great about this choir as all abilities are welcome.

Last night we practiced Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, then Handel’s ‘Hallelujah chorus’, then Coldplay’s ‘Fix you’, then Gaudete and so on. Alan’s co-choir leader, Sue Wilson, adapts all kinds of songs to exciting 4 part versions and now we are singing her version of Muse’s Madness track.

If you want to know more, here’s the link:-

http://mailchi.mp/49000d735f57/10th-anniversary-concert?e=66f6830a5d

Tickets for the concert will go on sale soon so let us know if you’d like come. It’s going to be such a big event and Neil and I are excited to be a part of it.

Right……..back to my current goal to walk up the beacon every day, so I’d better set off. It’s a beautifully fresh sunny day and I reckon I’ll romp up singing all of last nights songs.

I confirmed have a date for surgery! 20th October 2017. Wow!! Its almost bewildering to know that in less than 3 weeks, I shall be rid of Deirdre and starting the road to recovery.

It’s a 7-8 hour operation and so I need my heart and lungs to be as fit as possible. Thank heavens I made that pledge to myself 6 days ago that I’d walked up the beacon every day come rain or shine, and I haven’t missed a day yet. The first 20 mins are uphill and I still haven’t made it to the top without stopping, but once at the top I’m happy to stroll around quite quickly and enjoy the early autumnal countryside. Its not exactly a steady improvement as some days are more tiring than others, but I definitely feel most uplifted every time I get home and get some jobs done. I haven’t had a challenging rainy walk yet, but with nearly 3 weeks to go in October, the heavy rain will most definitely come!

Thanks to my googling last week, I’m far more accepting of my limitations and I’m not forcing myself to eat anything that is painful, even though it might be sensible food. I had a great chat with my surgeon brother David yesterday, who was most impressed that I’ve managed to keep my weight up since the wedding, despite being unable to swallow comfortably. He’d always wanted me to be trim, fit and healthy (you know what surgeons are like!), but now he applauds my absolutely appalling diet. We did laugh. I won’t be able to eat or digest food for little a while after surgery, which I why I need to pile on the weight before hand. I’ve completely given up trying to eat healthily and instead I eat whatever it takes to keep my weight up, like lashings of butter or cream on everything. Yum! Luckily I really enjoy soft berries with local honey and Greek yogurt, and I can eat most cheeses, with my staple drink 50-50 milk and hot water, so I am getting my nutrients in, along with all the naughty sugars and fats. David has been such a fantastic support, as have all my family, including of course my husband, the gorgeous Neil.

Speaking of whom, Neil has been swimming his heart out. Yesterday he swam 4km in the picturesque Whimbleball lake at the edge of Exmoor, for which he’s been training ever since his Port Issac swim. He left at 6.30 in the morning. He did gently invite me to come and watch, but I have to confess I wished him well, then rolled over and enjoyed a further 2 hours sleep in our comfy, warm bed. I can sleep for England these days, which feels wonderful after the manic time I had on steroids.

Neil has now swum 25km of his 100km goal he has set himself to swim by the end of the year. With all the generous wedding donations and more, he has reached his target of £5000 for OPA so we’ve added the local Force cancer charity who also deserve all our gratitude for the work they do locally. Both charities have helped me hugely and are such worthy causes.

Here are the links to the charities and the donation pages:

OPA: https://www.opa.org.uk

https://mydonate.bt.com/fundraisers/neilrushton1

Force: http://www.forcecancercharity.co.uk

http://uk.virginmoneygiving,com/CeriAndNeilwedding

I’m currently awaiting my CT scan in Exeter RD&E for the oncologist to review the results of my chemotherapy/radiotherapy treatment. I’ve been thinking about my diet. I ate and drank far, far more when I was fit and healthy without putting on weight. It just goes to show that eating lots of the right food maintains a healthy weight and it doesn’t take much fatty food to pile on the weight. So when this is all over and my weight is stable,  I shall look forward to getting back to a healthy diet. 

And to end, here’s a damp photo or 2 taken up the beacon this week. 

Culmstock beacon’s Millennium bench. My new training ground.

I’m so tired these days that I find it extremely frustrating. Against Neil’s advice I started gardening a few days ago and lasted just 15 minutes before I had to come in exhausted. This is not good enough!

My dear friends from Fleet came to visit yesterday as I’m missing our annual girls cycling holiday this year which they’ve based in Dorset. We had a delicious Sunday lunch in Culm Valley Inn. It was great to see them as I didn’t get the chance to catch up properly with them at wedding. After they left I was very happy, but very tired.

So last night I decided I must get fit no matter what, and I’ve decided to walk up Culmstock beacon every day, come rain or shine. This is my challenge.

Neil joined me today, as he will whenever he can. My legs were fine but my pulse became quite fast and I had to stop a couple of times to rest and recover on the way up. Once at the top we rest and enjoy the view, then it’s an easy walk back home. This up hill walk is a perfect way to gage my progress.

Next I’m having a massage at Dart’s Farm. Thanks to all Hens who contributed to this generous gift. I need to thank many many more people but that deserves a post of its own.

Supplement to initial blog:

I’ve been googling! The doctor’s nightmare patient, ha ha, but not really. I’ve been concerned about my lack of energy, so in a way it was reassuring to know that it’s extremely common after chemo/rad treatment and could last a quite few more weeks. I thought I’d bounce straight back, but sadly no. Exercise is advised, so I’ve got that covered, and I’ll just have to be patient, which I’m not so great at.

My swallowing seems to be getting more painful too and I was hoping it would start to improve now my radiotherapy has finished. The pain starts about a second or two after I swallow, as the food makes its way through the affected area. Again, I’m expecting things to happen too quickly and, indeed, this could get worse before it starts to improve in a few weeks. I was being a rather over optimistic describing it in my last blog as it’s extremely painful these days, which makes it rather difficult to keep my fluid intake up to a sensible amount. I’m working on that.

So………. I should have investigated earlier. It’s only that I’ve come to realise that I’m no super woman, but just a regular human being going through the same process as most others who have received this chemo/rad treatment for oesophageal cancer. And with that in mind, I’ll brace myself for a few more trying weeks and I will wait patiently for the improvements which I know will follow.

AND……we’ve both got itchy feet! I don’t think either of us has ever remained in the UK for 5 continuous months before and it doesn’t suit us! We’d LOVE to go away AND before surgery!! We have our ideas but we’ll simply have to wait to see my progress and get a fixed date for surgery. Watch this space!!! If ever there’s an incentive to recover, this is one!!

Wednesday:

I have to start by saying I feel absolutely great as I’ve just had my last radiotherapy. They always ask so many questions about my health, but really they want to know if my heart and lungs are OK. This ‘collateral damage’ has always been at the back of my mind during radiotherapy which is why I haven’t moved a millimetre in the sessions. I don’t feel I’ve been damaged at all (fingers crossed) as Neil and I walked up the beacon last evening and I was fine. I’m not fit, but that’s just a matter of time. I will be, and thats the point.

So……. yesterday (Tuesday) I had my first hiccup, but rather a nice hiccup. I’m not sure if I’ve said before, but I’ve had to have a blood test every Monday, before each chemotherapy session to check that my white blood cell count is strong enough to withstand the treatment. Well yesterday, they called me in early as my white blood cell count was very low from Monday’s test, and maybe things might have improved during the night. Neil and I jumped in the car and set off for Exeter.

They fitted the cannula straight away and took my blood and we waited. Fitting the cannula isn’t so easy as the treatment progresses, as the veins in my hands and arms get thinner and it took a second nurse to find a suitable vein. I kept smiling as they were doing their best, but I did think “ouch” more than a couple of times. In the mean time the doctor came to see me as they’d noticed the skin rash on my arm which I explained had spread to my back. I don’t mind any of these side effects as they seem so insignificant compared to the horrendous reactions I thought I might get from chemotherapy and radiotherapy. I just needed some steroid cream, that’s all.

The nurse returned with the blood test results which she discussed with the doctor and they concluded that my white blood cell count (150 instead of 350) was far too low for me to receive chemotherapy. For a while both Neil and I thought we’d have to come back later in the week, but no!! I’m done!!  Cooked! This particular chemo was designed to expose and weaken the Deirdre cells for the radiotherapy to kill them off, and since I only had 2 more radiotherapy treatments, I’d need no more chemo!!

WOW!!!! The END!!! No more damaging chemo for a long while, no more cold cap to contend with, or masses of steroids to keep me awake at night and all those pills I’ve been taking to counteract side effects. Suddenly it was all over and even my hair has rarely looked so good as I’ve been so careful with it.

So off we went for a quick trip to radiotherapy and Neil drove us home. Tiredness being the main side effect, I grabbed some sleep and then, as it was such a beautiful day, we walked up to the beacon. I needed the fresh air and that beautiful view, and maybe I was testing myself a little. I walked slower than usual, but apart from that I was fine. We sat on the hand crafted Millennium bench watching the house martins swoop around us, as we gazed across the rolling Devon valleys to Dartmoor in the far distance. It’s a breathtaking view which differs with every visit, with the changing light, winds and weather.  And later that Tuesday night, pill free, I slept 10 hours!! Wow.

Today, our dear friend Wendy, drove me in for my final radiotherapy, then we went shopping to Dart’s Farm to celebrate. Its a huge local store full of design ideas, Aga equipment, sporting goods, great local food and more. I can put all my treatment behind me and focus on the next stage, which is to get well and fit.

We have 24th October pencilled in for surgery, but nothing has been confirmed yet and I have a CT scan booked for 1st October to see the results of all my treatment.

I’m sure I’ll need blood tests to keep an eye on my white blood cell count. With little immune system operating in me at the moment, I need to avoid crowds as any infection I might pick up could be pretty nasty. Neil reckons I should be OK in a week.

Thursday:

Since I have promised to be very honest in this blog, I’ll explain how I am physically at the end of this first stage.

Tiredness: Alas, I didn’t sleep well last night, so I guess it might take a little while to return to normal sleep patterns. As long I can grab some sleep during the day, I recover well and enjoy a normal life. I’ve been dying to get on with jobs around the house such as painting and gardening. Finally we’ve organised the tool shed. Yay!

The radiotherapy has been burning and killing cells in the base of my oesophagus, so it feels a bit like a dead weight sitting above my stomach. Swallowing has become pretty painful, especially drinking water so I’m trying hard to keep my fluids up by sipping. I’m off tea, coffee, alcohol, fruit juices and anything acidic. Luke warm sweet milk is good. Our friend Pip made an amazing smoothie the other day with cucumber, apples, grapes, spinach etc etc and it was delicious. A few foods I love and slip down relatively easily, but others get stuck and I have to walk around the room a few times to give it chance to pass though. Its more unpleasant and inconvenient than terribly painful. I eat very carefully and stick to bland flavours as I no longer enjoy herbs or spices. Of course, all this will improve each day I heal, post treatment. I’d love to be able to swig down a cool glass of water when I’m thirsty.

The final side effect is skin rashes. Well, I HAVE to disagree with the advice I was given about Mole Valley mint scented udder cream. Its AWFUL!!! When the rash reached most of my body a week or so ago, I smothered myself with the stuff before bed. I stank and stuck to the sheets! Ugh!! The mint made my skin so cool that I had to switch on the electric blanket, so the udder cream scent filled the bedroom. I felt like a giant sticky Kendall’s mint cake. If I hadn’t been so tired, I’d have showered it off straight away, which I did first thing in the morning. And I washed the sheets. This stuff is designed for cows’ udders and is definitely not for me. I’ve gone back to my faithful Dove products. Neil says he didn’t mind sleeping next to a Kendall’s mint cake and might use it one day!! NO WAY!!! Its going straight to the kind farmer next door.

So, apart from being a recluse for a week, life will get back to normal. We’re hoping to go away for a holiday before surgery, but we cant plan anything until we have a confirmed date. We’ll keep walking up our beautiful beacon and beyond as I get fitter and fitter. I couldn’t feel better.

These photos were taken before the wedding by our wedding photographer Jonathan Neale of Exeter. We’d thoroughly recommend him and his wife Isobel as excellent photographers and such a pleasure to work with. 

My 5th chemo and 17th radiotherapy

I heard some nice comments today at chemo. I asked why there are no other coldcap patients and the nurses explained that some keep their hair anyway and some others aren’t brave enough. That’s hard to understand as I hate pain and I’m not brave at all. I just wanted to keep my hair for the wedding so I was simply determined. As I described before, it’s just like a 20 minute migraine which I know will end. Today I’m so used to the cold cap that I fell asleep wearing it! It seems a shame if people lose their hair unnecessarily as once the first 20 mins are done it’s absolutely fine. And when it comes off it gives you that fantastic sensation of freedom and comfort which you get when you take your ski boots off at the end of an exhilarating day. I’m so glad I persevered as my hair has never been so well conditioned. It looks better than ever and I’m getting it cut on Friday.

Talking about skiing, Neil asked my surgeon today if we were mad to go ahead with our booked ski holiday leaving on 25th Feb 2018. He said go for it!!! What a goal that will be for my recovery. Many non skiing partners in our group go on interesting walks every day so I’ll have a choice of activities. Numbers are down this year so if you’d like to come, please email me straight away. We’re going to Canazei in the Dolomites in Italy for a week. The skiing is amazing as it’s connected to 12 other ski resorts. The group’s skiing abilities vary from nothing to  beginners to very experienced so all levels are welcome. We went there 2 years ago and it included a day in Venice on the way. This year we’re traveling via Innsbruck where we can spend some time. It’s always great fun for skiers and non skiers alike.

Anyway, back to Deirdre. I’m a strange cookie. I actually felt excited about going to chemo today as I’m nearing the end of this part of the treatment with only 1 more chemo to go and I’m very aware of the damage being done to me. Our dear friend Heather Radmore drove me in and the lovely Anna Lisa Taylor drove me home. Our friends are ganging up on me and won’t let me drive on chemo days. It’s so very kind of them as Neil was at work. I’m still very happy to drive on radiotherapy days as driving relaxes me.

And our friends were right really. I was warned that I’d start feeling very tired in these last 2 treatment weeks and despite my inner beliefs that I’m invincible, the oncologist was also right. I keep taking cat naps, and if I fall sleep I’m fine for quite a while. But then I am also recovering from planning a huge wedding so I’d probably be feeling tired anyway. We’re still mopping up the last wedding bits and we finally opened all our cards on Sunday. Thanks to EVERYONE for our cards and generous donations to the OPA charity. Neil reached much further than his £5000 goal and we are all so very grateful.
We’re going to support our local cancer charity FORCE with any further donations from the wedding and others. If you send cheques or money to me I can gift aid it in the donation. So far we’ve collected over £400. Thank you. FORCE have a friendly drop in centre at the hospital where we can chill with a cup of tea. Their volunteers come round all the cancer wards with free tea, coffee, sandwiches and biscuits for family and friends alike. Without this we’d be ordering lunch from cafes etc. They counsel people struggling and give massive support to families. They subsided my wig (which I’ll need with the next post-op chemo) and give free massages and beauty treatments for us patients. As our hair falls out and our faces pale,  these caring people become will invaluable to us keeping our spirits up.
The side effects of my treatment have started now and I can see why everyone told me to put on weight as I’m struggling to eat. I’ve been getting ideas from OPA and I’m experimenting with different foods to find out which travel easily through the radiated area of my throat. Anything warm and bland with no spices work. Luke warm sweet tea is good. The area at the bottom of my gullet is very sore inside due to the radiotherapy. Cold and hot drinks hurt too much and I have zero interest in alcohol. I’m doing my best to keep my weight up and polished off most of a huge cheesecake left over from the wedding which is great. I ate a Sunday roast in the pub. So long as I chew hard and eat warm food which doesn’t stick to anything then I can eat. But I am having towork very hard at it these days.
Also I’ve developed a skin rash on my arms and chest. Neil reminded me that our skin is our largest organ and all my organs are being battered by the chemotherapy. Out came Mole Valley’s cow’s udder cream today. I smiled as I applied it. I’ve got some expensive cream but it’s perfumed so maybe Mole Valley ( where every decent Devon farmer shops for everything a farmer needs) is the beautician of the day!!! It does make me giggle although I’ve only used it once on my arm. 
I’ve been affected rather painfully “down below” as the late northern comedian, Les Dawson would have confided whilst dressed rather badly in woman’s clothes and pointing south behind his baggy skirt. A fungal infection. Fortunately my GP ( aka Neil for prescriptions) ordered remedies for me to collect from the local dispensary so it’s already under control. My poor body is receiving a massive assault on my healthy tissues, but can you imagine what Deirdre is receiving? She’s being poisoned into extinction and burned alive by this machine below. She’ll be a shrivelled mess by the time I receive my surgery only to end up finally incinerated while Neil and I glide down Italian ski slopes in February. I’m excited already!!