Who Loves You Baby...

Hah, so caught up with the pure theatre that is this General Election, I had forgotten I have cancer!

Actually, I have had a bit of a cold this week...probably caught off some Brightonian last weekend...no big deal really, had a runny nose and felt a bit rubbish on Wednesday but importantly, no temperature and I feel better now. Obviously, I was a little concerned at the beginning, seeing as House made it very clear a common cold could potentially kill me!

My chemo-ravaged body had got a few neutrophils left and I seem to have faught it off thus far...mind you, I haven't had a cold for two years and my lower immunity must be responsible for this one. I begin my nadir about now...I have no neutrophils now, so I hope the remainder of this cold doesn't cause problems...like pneumonia. More importantly, I want my body to get better so I can begin making them again next week ready for chemo the week after...if I don't get enough, they won't let me have chemo.

On Monday, I have my first ultrasound post-two-cycles-of-chemo to see how Colin is doing...or, to put it another way, to see if he is shrinking under the effects of two cycles of FEC.

I have been reading a bit lately and I understand my type of cancer/tumour size can potentially be shrunk by up to 50% usingFEC-Docetaxal. So I hope he has shrunk by 5% or so...we shall see. Hey, I get to get my tits out again for the doctor...

Hair status: Not much left now...because I have very dark hair, I seem to have a 5'o'clock shadow...but there are big holes in it. I washed my scalp yesterday (can't say 'hair' here because there truly isn't enough to need washing). I don't doing it often because the amount of short little hairs left in the bath is depresssing and a pain to clean out afterwards...but I needed to wash the scalp as it felt dirty. Lord, the amount of hairs left was incredible...and my bald spots were much bigger afterwards. I can't decide whether I want to be Telly Savalas or Mini Me as I get balder...

I now wear a bandana every day. I have to. I look scary without it and although I don't mind scaring small children, old ladies and dogs, I do not wish to be stared at, particularly when my hooter is red from wiping my nose and I sound like Mariella Frostrup due to the effects of my cold. Nothing denotes 'cancer and chemotherapy patient' more than the bloody bandana on the head. It seems to be the badge of honour for us...I hate it. My head feels itchy under it. I would prefer not to wear it, but until the head is smooth and shiny, I feel I have to. I don't want to scare people...not at the moment anyway.

I do not need to shave under my arms anymore. No hair has grown there for weeks. Also, my legs are no longer producing hair, so not needed there either. The S&C are hanging in for the ride though and my eyebrows are also fine...although no tidying needed.

I have also bought myself another pair of Converse and some more stripey tops. Seems to me this is all cancer Plaingoldband can wear now...so that shall be my cancer uniform. I am glad I haven't got any weddings to go to this summer...

I have also been asked to take part in an Oncology Patient Perspective group study...I don't have to commit for a bit, so I thought I would see how I go through my next cycle.

So, apart from no hair, the remnants of a cold, a red hooter and a dirge of stripey tops, I am feeling good. Which is more than can be said for Gordon Brown this morning...