"The Drugs Don't Work..."

So sang Richard Ashcroft in the Verve, 1997.

Let me explain. Today was Round 3 of Fight Club. I went to be Domestos-ed. I saw yet another oncology consult...not House, not Chemical Ali. This one was Dr Sharif. I shall call him Omar...

Omar asked how I was doing:

"Fine" I said, "no side effects bar a little phlebitis in one vein on left hand, which I have cleared up with some Fucibet...apart from that nothing...and I didn't take the anti-sickness and steroids because I wasn't sick after the last chemo...in fact" I continued, "it's as if you haven't given me chemo at all".

Famous last words. How prophetic they have turned out to be. Me and my bloody big mouth.

He showed me my bloods. My neutrophils were more than twice as high as last time...which is more than pretty good for a chemo patient about to start cycle 3. Indeed, it is rather odd, because each cycle should hit the bone marrow harder, thus producing less neutros, not more.

Or so the experts tell me.

"We have a small problem" said Omar, "we are disappointed with the results of your scan".

If you remember, I had an ultrasound to check on Colin last week. Radiographer, not the one who originally scanned me, said that Colin 'seemed to be smaller' and 'we don't generally see a significant reduction after 2 cycles anyway". I went away from that pretty happy...at least Colin hadn't eaten loads of pies and got bigger.

Colin hasn't got bigger. He hasn't really changed at all. Notes were consulted and new measurements post-chemo show he has not changed at all. The little fuck. I think I would rather this radiographer had been a little more honest and not said the words 'seems to be smaller'. I would rather have heard 'seems to be the same'. I can handle the truth if that had been the case.

"We believe the FEC chemotherapy isn't working as well as it ought to" said Omar, "we would like to see a reduction in the size of your tumour and we haven't. Although the last two cycles haven't worked, it's not entirely negative as it hasn't got bigger but we think FEC is not going to work for you...".

My first thought? The radiographer told me a load of shit and fucking typical: I, the medical enigma who doesn't suffer any side effects; the one with the constitution of a small ox; the one that bounces through chemo: she is the patient who is bigger, stronger and faster than Domestos. No wonder I haven't suffered; the bloody stuff can't keep up with me or Colin...in fact, I have probably developed some antibodies against it post-cycle 1, as I have done with other systemic drugs including other chemo drugs used for my other disease, which I took copious amounts of. Methotrexate didn't work and I didn't suffer any side effects with it either.

"And?" I said to Omar, being oh-so logical and straight-thinking.

" We want to def off the the crappy, rubbish FEC because it doesn't work and put you on the fuck-off Power Grade Domestos called Taxotere straight away...the drug that kills everything, including you, dead".

He didn't really say that. But's that what he meant. Fuck. I am not ready for that shit yet. I was enjoying being OK on FEC for another 9 weeks yet...giving me time to get used to the idea of the strong Domestos.

"But" continued Omar, "you can't have it today because the nurses aren't ready for you yet".

Let me explain. Super strong Domestos isn't like FEC. You can't just shove it in with one nursey Bernard, you have to have it in a special room with two nursey Bernards...because it is a nasty drug that can cause instant nasty side effects...like Anaphylaxis as it whizzes around your veins and hits your heart...you go red, you can't breathe, things can swell...

Sometimes. I shan't over-burden you with the potential side effects afterwards. Let's just say a number of healthcare professionals have asked me today if I understand the side effects associated with Taxotere post-infusion. I do. And they scare the knickers off me...they make FEC look like a walk in the park on a summer's day (which it has been for me...).

OK. The upside of a this first:

• They know FEC isn't going to work on me...because Colin hasn't changed, meaning I change drug.


• Colin isn't bigger (the little fuck).


• I knew I was going to have to take the shit called Taxotere, I am just having it earlier, that's all.


• I am glad I decided to have chemo before surgery, or I might have used FEC and we wouldn't have known it wasn't working seeing as Colin had met his end via surgery. The cancer cells in my lymphs may have gone on into my body and joined up and we wouldn't have known.

OK. The downside to this:

• The next ultrasound at the end of June (after 2 cycles of Taxotere) may show that Colin hasn't reduced enough or at all, meaning Taxotere hasn't worked either. I will have to have a very, very swift full mastectomy because they would be concerned the cancerous cells have had time to migrate.


• Knowing one lot of chemo, one specifically created for my type of cancer, doesn't work makes me think I might have this problem with other drugs...


• I have to bloody go back to the bloody RB again tomorrow.


• I will be poorly at a time when my work schedule is heavy, over the next 4 weeks.


• Did I say I have to go back again tomorrow? I am bloody pissed off about that. No fun going through rush hour traffic and sitting on the M4 for ages because of roadworks...

I know that Taxotere may work. I know this is Plan B. But this is a potential spanner in the works. I can see, in my normal pragmatic and logical way, that there are potential consequences to FEC not working. If Taxotere doesn't reduce Colin enough, they will whip my tit off. I will not be able to potentially have more chemo if this happens, which means potentially there may be stray cancer cells in my body and I will not be told I am cancer-free after everything because the drugs don't work. I will have to live life post-everything with the thought 'have I got it in my liver/bones/lungs' because that is where the next cancer will turn up, seeing as my tit has gone. Women who have successful chemo/surgery/radio can be a little more 'confident' than I would be at this point.

Now they can try and give me other chemo drugs, if Taxotere doesn't work, post-surgery. But these drugs are not first choice. They do not have the positive outcome that FEC-T has, or they would have used them first. Moreover, if they do decide to give me 'something lurking in the back of the dusty chemo cupboard', I won't be able to have reconstruction at the time they lop off my right tit. I will be titless whilst they do this. I hate the thought of that. I don't care if it isn't the right thing to say, but it just isn't right having one tit.

Dogwankingfucksticks. It's all gone tits up here at Plaingoldband Towers.

Quote of the Day: " If there is a 50-50 chance that something can go wrong, then 9 times out of 10 it will..." - Paul Harvey