Final Countdown...

So this is it, the final week. As I sit here with only three radiotherapy sessions to go it's hard not to think about the the future. In the short term, getting home, seeing everyone, breathing in fresh sea air and being able to stand and stare into horizons that aren't obscured by concrete and towering buildings, sleeping in my own bed, you know... the stuff we all miss when you spend time away. I do think it's going to feel a little bit strange though. I almost feel a bit apprehensive about it all and I can't really give you an exact reason why. Maybe it's leaving the umbrella of care that the team at the hospital have provided, and the safety of knowing that if anything goes wrong it can be fixed almost immediately. Maybe it's leaving the treatment itself. Although there will be a period where the radiation keeps burning away.. a bit like when you take a ready meal out of the microwave! I will begin the next phase of healing and all the damage that's been caused will settling down. I think the core of this anxious feeling comes from the knowledge that in the not too distant future I will have to come back to London to be scanned and see if the treatment has worked, or not. The date for this was revealed to us yesterday as April 6th. We have been through these moments many times since this began in 2011 and I've expressed the turmoil that accompanies those events many times in this blog. At the moment it feels distant, and though it's still a concern it's being overridden by the positive things in the present. The fact that I'm not actually that ill is playing a big part in this. Don't get me wrong this last 6 weeks has been far from easy and this week has taken on a new dimension of difficulty especially where eating food is concerned. The contrast for me though is thinking back to this phase of the treatment last time in 2012. I was in hospital having intravenous hydration and regular blood transfusions and was pretty far from okay. This time, despite getting tired quickly I'm up and about, washed and dressed everyday, able to eat solid food (to some degree), drink liquids and take medication orally... it's all very different. The only external change is the two areas where the radiation enters my head. My skin on both sides of my face, just in front of my ears looks like its been to Barbados, where the rest of me has definitely been indoors in central London for the last 6 weeks! So, me, my mum and my brown cheeks will be heading back home to Newquay on Friday. My last treatment is on Friday morning and then we get straight of to catch the plane as soon as we are done.
Mum and I have done well over the last 6 weeks. I know (and Bethan will back me up here) I am not the best patient in the world. I'm moody (yes, more than usual!), irritable and can be snappy and rude even to those who are trying their best to help. I can only explain this behavior by saying that it's fear and anxiety built up around the many layers of this situation that make me respond this way, but I fully understand how me being angry at the situation can make those around me feel uncomfortable as though it's directed at them...it's not, and for that I can only say I'm truly sorry. We thought it best that Bethan stay with the kids at home in Newquay. It made sense to upset their routine as little as possible. So, my mum was assigned to come down with me to help out if needed. We only have what we went through last time as a guide and at this point I was too weak to even dress or feed myself, so we guessed some assistance would be needed. This has not been the case this time and these extreme circumstances have been avoided. Mum (like a rock) has still been there everyday helping with medication, food shopping and handling timings/ arranging appointments at the hospital. I'm guessing it's been quite a lonely exercise for her especially over the last few weeks where I have been unable to speak very clearly or for long periods of time and have been spending large chunks of the day sleeping. We may have had a few scuffles, but nothing we can't come back from. I think that's to be expected when you are living in each others pockets for 6 weeks. In all though I think we have managed well, been a good little team where more than often Ive been the weakest link.
It was my final meeting with Prof Nutting yesterday. I had wanted to ask him for some time if through all the tests and scans that he had done and all the information that had been gathered, was there any clue as to how my cancer may have come about? I put this question to him in the meeting and he was swift to respond. He said "Yes, he result from you biopsy shows evidence of Epstein Barr". Now, I've read around my cancer extensively and new right away what he was talking about. The Epstein Barr virus is caught by over 80% of people on the planet at some point in their lives. It's linked to Glandular Fever and in the majority of cases a functioning immune system will clear the virus naturally. If it is not cleared it can lead to changes in DNA that eventually develop into many different forms of illness including Cancer. This has been clinically proven to have links to Cervical Cancer in women as well as other forms of Head and Neck Cancer... Nasopharyngeal Cancer being one of the main ones. I asked if there were any treatments that can be given such as vaccines or immunotherapy available post treatment. He replied that there isn't at this point, but clinical trails are going ahead in the near future to explore possibilities in this area. I said right away that I would love to be involved if that was the case.
We left his office free for the rest of the day, but I couldn't help wondering about the whole Epstein Barr thing. We obsess these days about diet, stress, lifestyle and environment and to a point those concerns are worthy and very important, but it seems to me that sometimes you just have to realise that cancer can come about by straight up bad luck and things that are well beyond our control.