A Short Respite

No chemo for a month! That's what the Professor said. I thought he meant he wants to see if the anti-estrogen pill will do the trick and I won't need need more chemo.

NO WAY!

My treatment is done in a team. That means that no matter whom I see, they write up my condition and inform every other member of the team. Initially it was the surgeon, medical oncologist, radiation oncologist and GP (my family doctor). This group has now expanded to include my cancer counsellor, the other Professor who saw me in hospital a few months ago, and someone else, whom I don't even remember. The reason I know all this is because I get a copy of every letter any of them write to my GP.  I like it. It makes me feel involved in my treatment. On the other hand, sometimes I think it would be better not to know everything.  Now is one of those times.

Ever since Tuesday, when I saw the Professor, I told my friends that the treatment is working and possibly no more chemo. My head cleared, I have a new writing project and I was over the moon with renewed optimism. Then came the letter.

Well, the reality is that I am better. The ascites is almost gone, I look healthy (even though my hair is getting quite thin - but still not noticeably) and I can even walk without a cane for a little while. But my treatment continues to be Exemestane and the three chemo poisons. So, that means I am not out of the woods yet. The saga continues.

In the meantime, the latest issue is my eyesight. For the past month, if not longer, I noticed that my eyesight is deteriorating. The letters on my laptop are becoming blurred and I have to make them larger to read comfortably. Worse still, my glasses are multifocal and sometimes the lines on the page seem to split at an angle. Yesterday I drove to the next suburb and I experienced this split when I was driving. What is going on?  This is intolerable.

I suspect this is a side effect of either the chemo or the Exestemane, or both. So, come Monday, I am going to the eye hospital emergency to get to the bottom of it all. They are wonderful.  A number of years ago I discovered contact lenses. I felt liberated. No more glass bumps on my nose, no more dirty glasses. Well, the freedom didn't last long.  One day I woke up with my right eye feeling like it had sand in it.  Someone suggested I go to the Sydney Eye Hospital.  I didn't even know such a thing existed. It was quite a long wait, but I think they saved my eye, as it turned out to be a very bad infection from the contact lens. Ever since then, I always go there whenever I feel I have a problem.  Monday I'll queue up again and wait my turn. I am sure they will have an answer.

And, on 28 August, when I see the Professor again, I am pretty sure I'll be looking at a new chemo cycle. Ah well. I have 25 days to get my strength back and get stuck into my writing. I have an apppointment with the trainer at the gym on Tuesday. I hate the gym, but they have a wonderful swimming pool. One can't have everything, I suppose.