A nice surprise...

Well... we all had an amazing Christmas. So nice to be in the new house, it was a mission, but we pulled it off. The kids loved Christmas day and I was so happy to be well enough to share it with them. We had a pretty quite day at home just myself, Bethan her mum and the kids. It was nice just to take things at a slower pace given how hectic the week or so running up to Christmas has been.

During the past week the kids have been off school and the weather hasn't been up to much so we've mostly just been pottering around the house and enjoying some really nice visits from friends and family. I've felt my strength return with each day and I'm welcoming the decline of the nasty cough I've had for the last few weeks. I've had both Flu and Nurovac vaccinations today, which is a relief. It's nice to have the extra protection especially at this time of year.

I was back for another 40mins of Diana Ross in the big white metal tube last Thursday for another MRI scan. The results of this scan will show the effect of the Chemo so far on the main tumor. We are set to discuss the results at our pre-chemo meeting with the oncologist next Wednesday. Fingers crossed the chemo is doing what it's supposed to and the suffering is worth while.

Many of you will know I love music. Many of you will also be aware of my love of 70's and 80's heavy metal bands. I think we all have a fondness for the music that we first came in contact with, the magical moment when you hear a song or a type of music and it becomes yours.

When I was ten I was given a stack of Lp's by a relative. These twenty or so records included bands such as Kiss, Jimi Hendrix, Led Zepplin, Jethro Tull, Thin Lizzy and AcDc. I would listen to these albums daily on an old record player that had been handed down to me from my uncle. It was at this point that my musical taste would be forever biased.

Over the years I have explored all different types of music, but in a strange and magnetic way I always return to the same genre. It's this music that has a life and energy thats hard to describe, music that makes you feel a certain way... alive!

Anyway... less of me trying to preach the merits of heavy metal. I received a package in the post this morning, my first thought was "nice... late xmas present!". I tore open the white jiffy bag to reveal a Motley Crue CD, a ragged piece of dirty paper and an envelope. Now... for those who don't know who Motley Crue are, aside from being one of the worlds most famous rock bands with a career that runs from the early eighties to present day, they are also the band that my dad would frequently point out wore more make up and hairspray than girls on the Boots cosmetics counter!

I opened the envelope, there was a "get well soon" card with a message and four signatures. The dirty piece of paper turned out to be the set list from the stage of the recent Motley Crue show in London. The slip of paper in the back of the packet read, "Hi there, Motley Crue wanted you to have this CD and card with their best wishes". My mind quickly flashed to a conversation I had had with my friend Mark. Mark does a lot of reviews and interviews for rock websites and magazines. He had told me to keep an eye on the post, following a conversation he'd had with Nikki Sixx the bass player for Motley Crue during a recent interview. Mark had mentioned to Mr Sixx that his friend was ill, he asked for my address which Mark had given him along with the address to this blog. I had kind of buried the conversation so as not to get my hopes up to the point where I'd forgotten all about it... but sure enough he came through!

In my eyes its and amazing two part gesture. One from the rock legend that doesn't know me from Adam taking the time to do something like this, and another from a very caring friend who knows how much this means to me.

Thanks Mark.

Interlude...

I realise the last few posts have contained not much more than me going on about the current round of treatment and its side effects. I would just like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their continuing help, support and kindness. Most of all I want to thank my wife, without her love, support, positivity and care I'm not too sure where I would be right now. Thanks B x

I'm over moon to be feeling well enough at the moment to enjoy Christmas with Bethan and he kids. It was a short term goal, but a big thing never the less. I'm really looking forward to having a couple of "healthy" weeks to catch up with friends and family and see if I can grow some beard back!

Hope to see you all soon,

Happy Christmas everyone, and all the very best for 2012.


Ciaran.

Sea what?

Im sure I dont have to explain what nausea feels like,everyone will have had expeirienced it at some point. Aside from the extreme fatigue it's the dominant feature of the treatment. I've never been one to seek out alternatively or complementary medicine... never really had to before. The nausea that accompanies the treatment is so powerful that I started to look into other ways to combat it aside from the high doses of anti sickness medication. The sickness meds work up to a point, but there are just those times where I feel like I need a bit extra in order to cope, a back up plan if you like.

There are masses of anti sickness remmidies out there ranging from herbal concoctions to simplifying what you eat the way you plan your meals. One of the more interesting and perhaps 'kooky' ideas are are product called SEABANDS. They are a narrow sweatband worn around both wrists. Each band holds a small plastic ball that when positioned correctly presses on an acupuncture point on the inside of each wrist. These bands were originally designed for sufferers of travel and morning sickness, but I'd read that a few people had had sucsess when using them through thier Chemo treatment as an anti sickness measure.

It's been interesting thorough this second round how the experience of the first round has taught me so much about what to do and what not to do. What I need and what I most certainly don't... so, thanks to the mighty Amazon my Seabands arrive in the post. All I can say is so far so good. I'm still taking my sickness meds like clockwork, but in the last 24hrs I've not experienced any additional feelings of sickness since wearing the bands. I'm coming towards the end of the bad week that follows the treatment so is difficult to be 100% sure and there's always the placebo effect, but I think they are a worthy addition to my arsenal of anti sickness precautions for next time, even if I do look like and 80's aerobics instructor!

In addition to this, I got my MRI scan date through yesterday. Next Thursday will give us the first good look at how the treatment is progressing. I realised while opening this letter that this will be the first of many nerve wracking scans that I will have through the treatment and beyond over the next few years. I decided that it it's not something I can control, so I'm going to make a real effort to take it as it comes rather than spend all my time worring about it.

Wired...

I've been at home now for four days and I realised yesterday that I've not actually left the house. As I'm writing this its still a very dark 7.30am and I can hear the wind howling outside. Still... I'm determined to get out out in the fresh air today, even if it's a stroll up the street and back.

I had a much better day yesterday, it felt as though the side effects of the chemo were finally beginning to subside. I managed to stay awake for a good part of the day before crashing for a few hours around tea time and despite the odd bit of stomach ache it felt like my appetite was returning.

I've had this annoying cough for a few weeks now, the team at the hospital know about it and I've been put on anti biotiics as a protective measure through this round. I've also been really on top of my anti sickness meds this time which has made a big difference. It's weird how in a matter of weeks I've gone from being someone who would avoid taking pain killers and pills unless absolutely nessasary to someone who feels a bit like a walking chemistry set.

As with many families at the moment we are all suffering with coughs and colds of some kind. I've been told not to worry about my own families germs, but to take greater care when it comes to visitors who may carry infectious stuff (colds, flu etc). This is so difficult espesially at the time of year, but everyone on the hospital team has said that you must literally turn people away if they are ill. I haven't had to do this yet as everyone has been really understanding, but it doesent stop the high levels of paranoia that come with a depleted immune system.

On a positive note, the move has been a big sucsess and everything is settling down nicely, apart from the kids who are both giddy beyond belief! The new Sonos system was fitted the day before yersterday and I can't get enough of it! I spent severl hours yesterday scouring back catalogs of music...pure joy! I suppose people mourned the death of vynal and even the death of the cd with the soulless introduction of downloading music, but I suppose streaming music is adds a whole new level to that, but I'm only seeing the pluses right now.

Movin and a groovin...

Well, deep in the midst of round two, Im neither use nor ornament in our move to to the new house. As I write this were are pretty much in bar a few unpacked boxes. Bethan and her sister Becky have worked super hard to get us all in here for Christmas. I've been either shifting in and out of "chemo coma" or feeling ill/ sick, so have been confined to the big leather Lazyboy or "ladyboy" as Cerys calls it!

This run has been slightly easier though, but no less dark. Its so easy to hold on to positivity when you're well and everythings fine. The trick is trying to remember the good stuff when things are bad, which is a very different animal. Ive heard that the treatment can plug you in to thoughts about our own mortality. I guess when the chemicals inside you are destroying parts of your body on a cellular level this is only natural. The low points that this round have brought on some pretty herendous thoughts/fears. One of the things that's difficult to get away from is the nature of cancer. The majority of people I meet who have had or are living with cancer have had more than one incident. The recurrent nature of the desiease means that anyone who gets it will naturally be left living with the possibility of it's return even when they are in the "clear". It would be nice to think that this is treatable and curable, as the doctors have expressed. At the same time, knowing what I know of the treatment so far it's not a situation you would want to be battling on and off for ten years as some of the people I've met have been doing.

Its not just about living and dying, after all that's a certantiy we all face. It's about being well. It's about having the best out of the time we do have, whether that's prescribed or not. I think becoming this "poorly person" has made me realise more than ever what quality of life really means.

The last few days have left me with so little energy that a trip to the fridge has left my head spinning and needing to sleep for an hour after. The smallest task can seem like climbing a mountain and it can be difficult to find the mental strength let alone the physical. Its made being part of the growing excitement that Christmas and moving house brings virtually impossibe. This has to be the saddest part for me right now. Although I was treated to Cerys sitting on the end of the bed plucking her pink flying V ukelle and singing a Janes Adiction song to me yesterday afternoon... She's such a sweetheart.

Sick and tired...

...the title of this entry pretty much sums up the last 24hrs. It took me two hours to have shower this afternoon. Working through the complex maze of one handed manuovers so that i can hold the chemo pump while trying to wash and dress with out damaging the seemingly fragile cables and connections. All his was to be achieved through the weary "chemo funk". A tiredness that grips without mercy, de activating every fibre in every part of my body like a voodo curse. Having said that the odd window of opportunity will occasionally present itself where the "funk" will lift for a short time, somteimes and few seconds sometimes half and hour. Thease opportunities are siezed and used for drinking, going to the toilet and fetching anything I may need that won't be obtainable during the next paralysing wave of motionless nausea.

Food has also been a funny one today as I've seen the return on the "upside down" taste buds. Strong flavours are repellant to the point of causing sickness. It seems cold food is the only way at the moment. Ice lollies, and ice cream and fresh pineapple being at the top of the list for getting rid of the foul taste in my mouth caused by the chemicals. Keeping it simple and plain seems to work well too, jam and bread and a glass of cold milk seems to sit well. I'm very conscious of getting enough fluids as I'm spending such a huge amount of time sleeping, the last thing I want to do is end up dehydrated and back in hospital like last time!

Although the last 24 hrs have been a grind, I still feel confident that this time round is a little easier than the last. I was in a way worse state at this point on the first go.

This afternoon, and my worries and strains were once again put into perspective with the news that aunti B has been admitted into hospital with a serious infection. My mum has just headed home to pack to catch the early train north to be with her tommorow. My thoughts are with her as always.

Bethan has spent the last three days packing for the move tomorrow, which is all looking like its going to plan. I just feel pretty helpless not being able to chip in and help out. At least I'm much more independent than I was on the last round which has at least taken a bit of the pressure away from Bethan.

So... Positive markers, move house tomorrow and have my chemo pump removed on Tuesday. From there all I have to focus on is getting myself right for the weekend. It will be amazing if this can happen as it will give me a whole two weeks of relative normality until round three. That's the plan, just hope I can make it happen.

Weird Beard!

So... Ive been cut loose from hospital this morning with my chemo pump, now neatly stowed away in my new "bum bag"... so cool! I don't want to put a hex on things, but I'm feeling pretty okay. The usual underlying nausea is present, but I feel way more comfortable than when I got out of hospital at the this point last time round. Aside from a little catch up nap from being awake a lot last night I've been up and about with the kids. We all had tea together and got on with the usual family evening stuff. It was nice to feel this sense of normality again that it's so easy to take for granted.

I've spoken already about the acute physical changes that the treatment is bringing about. Well... in what feels like some kind of reverse puberty, my beard has started to fall out! It's like I'm getting younger. Large patches on the sides of my chin are returning to smooth areas that resemble my pre teen years... or more the bit where your beard is forming but didnt quite all join up, very strange indeed. Eyebrows still seem intact at this point, which is good, but I can't help feeling thier next!

It gets me down to a certain degree, and I keep having to remind myself that this is just a bridge I have to cross to get this done and that things could always be way worse. Yet as I sit here writing this several beard hairs have fallen onto then screen of my iPad, just as a reminder I guess that the second run is well underway.

It's been amazing to be back home, and with so much great stuff to look forward too in the coming weeks, I'm really hoping that this round is a lot easier to deal with than the first one. Good that this round marks the half way point of "the big four" of my chemo treatments before we get into the radiotherapy stuff. As one of my freinds stated at the very beginning of this "time only moves forward", it's a nice thought to hold onto when your in this position.

The kids are worn out and are very glad to have finished school for Christmas today, I think they both need a good break, and lots of mum and dad time. Something I'm really looking forward too as well.

The chemo tree...

It's funny being hooked up to and IV drip, painless but annoying. The way always seems to have you tangled up with IV lines and static objects while you try and negotiate the path way to the toilet and back becomes a bit of a chore to say the least. It's only for a short time though, I've done the main body of it, as I sit writing this I'm on the final hydration phase of the two chemo drugs that have take the last 12 hours to drip their way into my system. Im loaded up on these weird steroids that have my heart rate going through the roof and are keeping my from anything near quality sleep. Its just gone 4am and I've been up a while just pottering about trying not to disturbed "the league". Im just writing, reading and trying to keep my head away from the thought of he underlying nausea that will now be present for the next week our so.

I'm due to be sent home early tomorrow morning with mobile pump again. Feeling a bit more happy and confident about that now I know what it entails. On reflection I think I did things that effected my situation last time. It's hard to explain, but it's like I froze up, as the varying symtoms acumulated with each day i became fearful that what ever I did would increase the levels of illness. I stopped eating, drinking and just laid in bed for a good few days following inital part of the chemo recovery phase and I think this played big part in the problems followed and brought about my re-admission into hospital. So... with all this experience behind me I'm going to attempt a different approach once at home with the pump and try to live more like I was doing last week, eating and drinking well, up and out of bed and trying to maintain some sort of activity level even if just pottering about the house, whatever so long as I'm not spending days and nights laid in bed. That's not to say I'm not going to rest if my body is telling me to do so. I think you can go the other way and do too much quite easily. Even Thursday's trip to Truro had me lagging behind Bethan struggling to keep up in places. It's amazing on how many levels this treatment is having effect, but then I guess it's got to damage my system in order to get the job done.

I'm really looking forward to getting home tomorrow, both the kids break for the Christmas holidays at midday so it's going to be a great opportunity to spend the quality time with them that has been lacking in the past few weeks. With the house move on monday and Christmas looming at the end of the week it's going to be a busy one, but that's got to be a good thing.

Chemo Hotel 2...

So... I finally get my bed in Lowan Ward, I'm sitting here waiting for the "hydration" phase of the treatment to begin at midnight. This is a fun 12hrs of IV saline and other bits and bobs that make you pee... a lot. I guess this is to flush your system and prepare or internal organs for the chemo.

chemotherapy should commence at noon tomorrow allowing my to leave 'Chez Chemo' with my four day pump on Friday, all being well. Okay, short term marker... get well for Christmas day. I'm so exited to see the kids open their presents on Christmas morning. They both fully understand and embrace the whole Christmas thing now as they know exactly how it all works. The good behaviour leverage that's been created in the last month due the fact that "the elves are watching you" has been increadable. We have the best behaved kids right now and all thanks to the "elves".

It was difficult to put them both to bed tonight. I mentioned to Joel while I was tucking him in that Daddy will be going back to see the doctor tonight to get more specilai medicine and I'll see him again in two sleeps. He replied "you should just stay here with me forever"...what do you say?

Cerys was in a similar place, but expressing it in a different way. As I've said before, it's difficult to realise the scale of the impact sometimes, and it makes it all the more difficult to be trapped in here right now.

Although, I was greeted by a friendly nurse who ushered me towards one of the side room. Its a large room,one bed, clean without stinking of bleach with a television... great. I go for a look around the ward for some familiar faces, there's none. One of the nurses say "are you looking for someone?", "yes, my mate Stephen"... "I'm right in front of you ya bugger" calls Stephen. Stephan is a south African bloke in his mid fifties suffering from an acute throat cancer that was discovered when he was admitted to hospital after nearly choking to death in a Padstow restaurant. He began his first round of Chemo a few days before me and was in the bed next door to me on my first round. He is an ex merchant seaman and solidly refuses that the chemo could every make him feel sick due to his years at sea.

The reason I didn't spot him was because like me he had opted for the full hair loss "shave down", gone were his Captai Birdseye silver hair and beard, replaced by crew cut and clean view of his chin! We had a good to catch up and compared notes about the effects of our first run at it, and i can aslo claim my Lance Arstrong book back (bonus!) It was nice to see him. Aside from Stephen the ward is full of new faces, all of which with different inputs of chemicals reaching into different body parts via clear plastic tubes. There is a strong spense of camaraderie in here, it's quite and unspoken, but is acknowledged through knowing nods and slight smiles.

Since if been riding my bike so much over years I have noticed as serious drop in my resting heart rate. This was made apparent during the first observations from the first round. They like you to have a resting heart rate of betweenn 60 and 100bpm. I was coming in at between 64 and 67 bpm, "do you do a lot of joggin" one nurse said, "no, but I get about 70+ miles a week out of my mountain bike", "that explains you low resting heart rate". I'm not really one for stats and figures when riding, it's nice to know how fast and far you go each ride, but I've never been into logging or traing using heart rate monitors... leave that to the serious cats! However it is really nice to see that a by-product of all that fun is a good level of fitness.

I have just had my first round of observations and my resting heart rate was 110 bpm! I didn't understand how this could be, I'm sat motionless in bed. My temp is fine and so is my blood pressure... weird! The nurse asked me if Im taking any medication. I was given a steroid to take in large doses 24hrs before the chemo, I told her..."I bet your really hungry too", I flashed back the pizza and Sunday combo and the Kit Kat and five Jaffa cake I guzzled down a few minutes ago... yes a hungry fells indeed! I just tought I was making up for lost ground from last weeks purge. Ive lost nearly three kilos over the last few weeks be it through illness or stress im not too sure, but one thing is certain this week my appetite has been on fire!

"oh, and by the way, what time did you take the last dose of steroids?", "about two hours ago", "okay, I wouldn't expect to sleep tonight either", great- so nice to be informed of this when the drugs are issued. So late night blogging live from "The Chemo Hotel" tonight. All good fun.

Chemo Hotel...

Today started early, after trying to help Bethan get the kids ready for school and dropping them off we headed off for my review appointment at Trelisk. The point of this is an assessment to review how physically and I guess mentally ready I am for the next round of chemotherapy.

Having been pretty hammered by the last round and running into all sorts of quite powerful side effects there was talk of the next round being postponed until I was 100% well again. It was are very clear at the meeting with the main oncologist that is taking care of me that he was very impressed with both my rate of recovery and the reduction in size of the lump in the lymph gland in my neck. It has shrunk for the size of half an apple to half a grape with in the first round. This provides yet another huge positive foothold, that gives both relief and encouragement to see that it's all working as It should be.

With all this information in place, they suggest moving the treatment schedule forward by a day and suggest starting the next round a soon as a bed is ready. We were told to call the ward back after 1pm to find out. Myself and Bethan took advantage of out extra time and headed into Truro where the largest pre- chemo meal took place in Pizza Express, huge Ham and mushroom pizza followed by a banoffee Sunday... I might not be eating too well over the next few days so the thought was to stock up, and stock up we did!

As we both wobbled our bellies off down the street and I mentioned that I wanted to drop into the local bike shop and have a chat with the James and the boys that work there. Clive Mitchel Cycles has served my cycling, chin wagging, good advice, needs. As we all share an immense passion for cycling in its many forms it's easy to call the guys who work there friends. James has had many years to subtly hone his craft of being able to show you a bike and with in seconds your trying to figure out a way that you can own it! I might be to blame in part for that though, i love a new bike as many of you know! It begins with his "Mr Ben, as if by magic the shop keeper appears" followed by a swift glance at the product on offer within the show room, this is followed by a swift dismissal of what's there, followed by a "follow me". We end up in the "secret stock area" an area of the store that seems to make feel a bit prevailed to be in. He digs about amongst the numerous demo bikes and brand new ready to ride steeds that are waiting to be collected by the now "light of wallet, but super stoked" customers. He unvailes my new dream bike the new Specialized Epic 29er, some folk balk at the whole big wheel movement, but I fell in love with their flowy goodness many years ago and as the popularity of this design has grown so has the quality of handing, lower weights, and over all grin factor. Sorry, non bike fans there is a point for all my lusting over this inanimate object. It all comes back to the "positive markers" I was talking about a post or two ago. I have been thinking about riding my bike a lot lately and how much I miss not just the sport itself and the exercise, but most of all the people. I realise the potential for life long side effects of the treatment I'm undergoing, but I still feel I want too continue riding once this is done. I have three bikes at the momment that I move between all the time and it breaks my heart to think of them rotting away in the shed for the next six months. Headsets frozen, bearings siezed, hubs stiffened all through lack of use. I have come to the decision that I need to sell them, put the money to one side and buy my dream bike once I feel right again, which I feel confident that I will. This gives a solid long term "positive marker" for me to work toward. Knowing that I won't just be back riding in whatever capacity, but I'll be riding the the bike I always wanted... so as James unveiled a brand new Specialized Epic Carbon 29er, it appears a new long term "positive marker" has been set!

Nice to see ya, to see ya... Nice!

I've been back on top form over the last week, a little battle weary but able to make to most of feeling way better than I have done in recent weeks.

It's been great to get a few folk calling round for a cuppa and a catch up and to be able to make calls to freinds around the country and have a good chin wag about everything that's been going on. An extension to this was the announcement of a possible Christmas get together with everyone from the Trail Riders bike club I've been part of for last few years. We have always started our three weekly rides from the Fox and Hounds car park in Scorrier, and finish the majority of rides with a pint in the Fox afterwards. Myself and freind from Newquay headed down there to meet up with everyone for the first time since I was diagnosed. I was was very conscious that I wanted to reassure them that everything was okay and I was feeling good. It's true, I am, but I still wanted to offer that reassurance to my freinds. We sat and ate huge plates of gammon and chips, laughed hard for good few hours and reveled in talk of future bike trips. It was amazing to see everyone and it offered a real boost to my moral at this point. A lot of folk I know are going to find this weird, but I have no desire to drink alcohol at the moment. It just feels like a negative in my system that I really don't need. Perhaps when the treatment is all done my thirst will return, but for now I really could yet care less.

Tomorrow sees me back in Trelisk for a lengthy check up to ensure that everything is okay to begin the next round of chemo. All being well I will be I'll get started the folloiwing day and things wont have been efected by the illness following the first round. Fingers crossd that they are going to adjust the dosage to limit some of the more aggressive side effects.

Ha ha... Daddy, you look like an egg!

This was the response I was met with from Cerys his afternoon having walked into the house with a new grade 1 crew cut.

A good friend of ours who is also a hair dresser came over this morning and very kindly cut my hair. We had a really funny morning laughing about everything, but when a friend of ours who died of cancer this year came up in conversation it was difficult to fend off the tears. I think it's the unfairness of it all, the way that cancer I'd so indiscriminate. It's an evil disease for the way it can just cut a person down who was so in love with thier life and had so much to live for.

No one deserves cancer, I guess you can limit the chances of its through the lifestyle choices we make, but when alls said and done it kind of feels like 'it' chooses you. Especially with what the doctors have said and what I've read about my cancer. It would appear that it has no real cause. There are links to Epstine Barr Virus (EBV) as a possible cause and flaws in the immune system. The later I find strange as I've alway been the type person that never gets sick, I think I went the whole winter last year without a single cold or sniffle, seem to making up for it now though.

Back to the hair cut though. I was getting fed up with malting everywhere. There was hair on the towels, hair in the sink, hair on my pillow, it was everywhere! I was also starting to get some quite obvious bald patches on each side of my head. So... Crew cut it is. Having had my hair like this through choice many times it's no big shock to me, however Cerys and Joel seemed to see things differently and met me with their funny little jibes and observations as soon as they noticed. All good fun, they seemed quite tickled by it all.

I'm seeing the community nurse tomorrow morning for my weekly check over, and I think I'm having the final stitch removed from my Hickman Line, which should make it feel almost unnoticable. The feeding tube has settle a bit more over the last week, but I think that's largely due to my acceptance of the situation. I kind of feel less afraid of it now. Ive manged to fit its upkeep in to the normal morning routine.

I'm due to go back to the hospital this Wednesday for my pre chemo check over. They will run tests to see if I'm up to taking on the next round. As far as I'm concerned I feel okay aside from a nagging cough that I've had since leaving hospital. Everyone seems to have it at the moment including Cerys and Joel. I just hope they don't hold me back from the treatment due to this or the complications I had following the last round. I really want to get on with it. It's been a massive boost to see the lump in my neck virtually disappear over the first round of chemo. I just feel like I want to get another one in there and feel another big step towards nailing this thing.

Positive markers...

I had a really rough night last night, it was as though everything just got on top of me. I seemed to only be able to focus on the negative and i didn't feel like i was in control of how i was feeling. I think at its core there were a few different things that i was struggling with. The first thing was the angst and anguish my situation has put on the people i love and care for. I find myself hating the cancer more for this than anything else.

Both the kids have been dealing with he situation in thier individual ways. Joel is pretty happy go lucky and is fairly wrapped up in his own three year old world of trucks, diggers and jumpming off stuff. Cerys on the other hand is very different. She has a very deep way of thinking about things for a five year old and tends to internalise things. Cerys will lead you to believe that none of this is having any effect and then she will just say something that lets you know that knows exactly what's going on. Sometimes she doesn't even have to speak.

I was feeling kind of rough yesterday and had fallen asleep in the living room. I could sense Cerys playing quitely near by. I woke, lookin through blurry eyes I could just see Cerys sat in front of me with eyes fixed on mine. It's as though I was transparent and she was gazing right inside me. "are you feeling poorly daddy?" "a little bit, but it's okay" I said. She knows, and she worries and I can't stand that.

We are looking to move house on the 20th of this month, something we are all looking forward too. This is counterbalanced by me receiving my second round of chemo over this time, but if that's the case at least I'll be in okay shape to enjoy Christmas with Bethan and the kids (fingers crossed).

As things have gone on it's made me realise that in order to get through this I'm going to have to set some goals. Some things to look forward to through out the treatment that will serve as positive markers that I need to strive for. I've been working through all this just trying to handle each day as it comes, a kind of "play it by ear" approach. This is fine, but going by last night's little "mood swing" a need to set up both long term and short term targets to aim for. On of the lads from the mountain bike club I've been an active part of for the last few years posted up a video of a couple of french riders smashing the back doors off some fast flowing alpine single track, I just thought- that's what I need to do! I need to set up some end goals, post treatment.

Surf dvd's and bike magazines have turned into instruments of torture lately. Just serving to remind me of what I can't do. This is true for now, but I can't help thinking that if I put these markers in place and give myself things to look forward too it going to make getting through the darker parts of the treatment easier with an end game to focus on. Did Lance lay in bed thinking about the pain of the next round of treatment, no he layed there thinking about mountain stage events and laying the competition to waste, I can only guess that's why he beat his cancers and won Le Tour 18 months into remission. I'm no Lance Armstrong, but thinking about dusty ribbons of singletrack flowing through Alpine valleys are looking like a great incentive at the moment.

Fast Frenchies!

What are eyebrows for?

I was informed when I started the chemo program that it was going to be pretty much the highest dosage that can be given and to expect a strong chance that I will loose my hair and when it grows back it might be a lot more greyer than before.

My ethos with regards personal looks and presentation have always centred around clean, simple and easy to maintain... you give me jeans, t shirts, slip- on Vans and a crew cut, I'm set. That little style recipe has served well over the last twenty years allowing my to slip discretely under the fashion radar. When it was announced that I would almost certainly loose my hair I didn't really think anything of it.

I got out of the shower this morning and while drying my hair I noticed the large mount of hair that had malted onto the towel. I thought "okay, so its begun", I looked in the bathroom mirror squinting my eyes trying to imagine what the full "Cancer patient, no hair, no eyebrows look" would be like on me. Despite having crew cut after crew cut over the years I just couldn't see it.

It's only now as I sit here on a Saturday evening in the lounge, flicking through the TV channels doing my best to keep well clear of the mind numbing nonsense thats on offer. I reach up an pull a clump of hair from the side of my head. It really has begun.

I'd not really given much thought regarding the extreme physical changes that this situation could lead too, but now those changes are starting its beginning to hit home. I keep having this re-ocuring playback in my head of the scene from the 1980's re- make of The Fly where Jeff Goldblum is transforming, pulling off finger nails and finding new and repulsive happenings to his body. While I'm constantly trying to keep things in perspective and keep telling myself this is the treatment, and these temporary side effects are products of the curative process thats happening inside my body on the road to wellness. It doesn't stop me freaking out out a little bit.

Cerys and Joel's Nativity...

I couldn't attend the kids nativity due to infection risk post chemo, but Bethan got some great photos...

The weirdest thing...

I'm feeling better and better every day now that I'm back at home. I've been told to not let my weight drop while on the treatment, so I've been taking full advantage of this perscription from the docs. I'm eating like a horse! At least four large meals a day with fruit and protein shakes in between. The funny thing is I'm still loosing weight! I was told that the chemo uses up a huge amount of calories as it is processed through your body,the nutritionalist ive been seeing has recommended 2000 calories per day while in an inactive state, more once I'm up and about, which I am. I suppose I should take advantage in between treatments while feeling sort of normal.

The weirdest thing happened yesterday morning. I had woke to a funny sensation in my upper stomach. I was hungry. Or at least my stomach was. The feed tube that's laying dormant in my stomach was being repeatedly pulled tight to my skin and then it would be released, it was as though my stomach was trying to eat the feed tube, grabbing at it and pulling it inside my body! It was the grossest thing ever, I was just stood in the middle of the bedroom thinking "what now?". I bolted downstairs and poured a big bowl of cereal and proceeded to chomp through it. My stomach turned its attention to this new input and stopped "chewing" on the tube. Okay, glad that's stopped, note to self- don't let your stomach get empty again.

The feed tube thing is becoming a real bone of contention at the moment. Of all the things that are being delt with in this its by far the most problematic, high maintanance, uncomfortable and generally weird element of the treatment. It was starting to get me down yesterday and I was wondering how I could get out of having it, while I'm aware of the important role it will play down the line, for now it's literally a thorn in my side.

Yesterday daytime was almost entirely consumed by phone calls either from or too freinds and family. Having been out of commission over the last week or so it was great to catch up, vent, but generally laugh about the situation. A coping mechanism perhaps, but one that works well.

Maintainance...

Looking back over the last week I think myself and Bethan have both agreed that I don't want to be placed back in that situation again while on this course of treatment. I think we have drawn the conclusion that due to the lack of facillites there i was getting sicker faster than i was getting better!

I had a really good chat with the community nurse who came over yesterday to clean lines and change dressings. She has made us aware of the level of support that is available to us at home. They can are pretty much able to visit on a daily basis, not that you would really need them to and are on the end of the telephone if you need information or just have a question, no matter how stupid it might seem. She also mentioned that IV hydration and other drugs are able to be administered at home on prescription from the doctor and that with cases where the patient would need it isolated in hospital 9 out of 10 times they are better off at home. This seems to make a lot more sense to me and offers us a viable alternative should I have further compplcations with the treatment.

It's great to be back, but I still don't quite feel right. Ive avoided laying around in bed and tried to stay active, even if that just means pottering around the house at this stage. The weather has been a bit crappy the last few days, but I'm really keen to get out for a walk in the fresh air today, even if it's just down to the shop and back. I noticed my legs while I was getting dressed this morning. The muscle that I have acquired on my thighs and calfs from years of peddling seems to be fading away. What was once hard sinewy power has begun to look frail and slightly depleted. I have had this happen before through injury and time spent away from the bike, but because it's never for that long it means that muscle memory has always helped me to quickly bounce back in a matter of a few rides. I get the feeling that 5 months off the bike and all the chemicals are going to put me right back to square one, or worse.

So, what to do? I guess the only thing I can do is try and maintain what I have. I can't ride a bike for fear of injury and I can't surf with all this stuff hanging out of my chest. I'm thinking, I live in a beautiful place, all I need to do is get out and walk. Ipod on and go, me, black flag and the cliff paths... It's the only way.

The Great Escape...

I woke this morning the sound of the tea trolley rattling down the corridor. My IV needed to be changed so I rang the buzzer for assistance. The nurse came and freed me of the IV line. "So, your off home today" she announced. This was the first I'd heard. "Yes, your blood test and everything have all come back negative, so I believe the doctors want to see you gone this morning", this was fantastic news, but it was about to get even better... "and you can use the shower across the hall if you need to". If I need to? I pounced out of bed and wobbled across the room with the dexterity and strength of a 15st new born foal. Its amazing what two weeks in bed will undo in your body. I snatched up my wash bag (noting the layer of dust on it) and crashed across the corridor into the shower room across the hallway. I'm not a particularly religiuos person, but when people talk about baptism and being "born again" this had to have been pretty close. I washed away the five days of sickness in a matter of seconds and stood there just soaking up the heat, with and hum that soon broke into a song, but soon realised that the bathroom door was all that separated me from the thirty or so bed riden folk on the other side, I knocked the signing on the head.

I returned to my "cell" cleansed and brimming with the prospect of escape. I started to pack, but stopped to eat the two slices of white toast and jam that had been left by my bed side while I was in the shower. Usually for me, toast is a high speed breakfast inhaled along with strong coffe while flashing a glance at the kitchen clock on the way out of the door. Today was different, I just sat there with time on my side enjoying every mouthful... superb.

After a brief discussion with the doctors we were handed paperwork and meds and sent on our way. As we approached Newquay I felt exhausted, but Bethan and myself had been chatting about the "house" all the way back. I wanted to go and see.

We have spent the last year renovating a house a couple of streets away from where we live on Pentire. It's been a long road, but one we have both enjoyed, even more so in the last few months as it has neared completion. The news of my Cancer has come at a time when we as a family are going through a lot of different transitions. The kids have just started big school, I'd just begun training as a teacher and Bethan was looking forward to picking up her career as well. With the new house almost complete it really felt like we were getting somewhere and that life was moving in the right direction. I still look at my current situation as a "speed bump", a period of time in my life where things are out of my control to a degree, but I still maintain that this is temporary, painful and uncomfortable, but temporary.

We pulled up outside the new place, i haven't seen it for almost a month. It looks amazing! "Are you sure you want to go in", " absolutely" I said. We jumped out of the car and went across the drive way checking out the freshly rendered exterior, it all looks so new! We went inside, flooring and carpets were all in, bathrooms complete, kitchen finished and decorating underway. Bethan and I went upstairs, and it dawned on me that the spare room with its own ensuite bathroom we had designed to accommodate our visiting family and freinds is soon to become my hospis, recovery room to house me during my terms of chemo recovery in the coming months. It still makes me feel pretty sad that we're moving into our new house under these circumstances, but it is what it is I suppose, and things could always be worse.

We drove back up the road buzzing about the new progress that has been made on the place. When we arrived home I got my feet up while Bethan went to collect Joel and Cerys. They came roaring in the house in the usual way, painty fingers and crusty sleeves fresh from a day of school.It felt like a month not a week since I last saw them both, and they both seemed to have doubled in size, with new manorisims, words and ways. We all settled down and watched KungFu Panda 2, myself and Cerys in the big chair dipping into our secret stash of Haribo... human again.

Oh yes, Egg and Cress!

Almost forgot to elaborate on the title of the last post. At 5.23 the afternoon I ate and egg and cress sandwich and then just burst in to tears, calmed my self down and had a strawberry yoghurt. That's the first full meal I've eaten in four days... Not sure what the tears were about. I called Bethan and we had a laugh about it, she reckons it was a big phycological hurdle, I thought it tasted alright.

Egg and Cress...

Day 4. I think annoyed, despondent and generally feeling like I'd had enough were the key vibes this morning. I'd been up almost all night battling the usual issues, the ward was noisy even though I'm in my own little cell. It just seemed that the moment I started to drift off there would be something, the moaning, the puking, the buzzers, alarms and the rasp of the Velcro arm band on the blood pressure monitor, the porters walking in at 4 am not even talking but shouting to each other down the ward like its a Saturday night out. There's treatment here, but it seems sometimes like there's very little care.

I've started making notes of what happens to me through the day, the meds I've been given, when my temperature and vitals were last taken and things like that as I'm sick of being asked when and what I've been given by people who I think it's kind of their job to know, because I'm way to ill, scared, confused to remember of the top of my head.

Okay, rant over for now.

They have discovered that I'm now "non- contagious", this still has had no effect in my isolation as they still believe that the condition I'm suffering with could be "viral" so don't want to take any chances. My feed tube flared up today and became really painful and bit messy and it was thought for a time that it may be infected, but the doc seemed to think not. It's been very difficult to maintain any kind of basic hygiene when I'm traped in a room with a sink I can barely reach and no toilet. I was unhooked from the IV pump for about an hour today while Bethan was here so she helped me have a stip wash using the sink in the corner of my room. You'd think having my own room would offer some level of privacy, not so, the tea lady still managed to barge in as stood there naked cradling my undercarriage in sky blue flannel. "Did you want tea love?", "er, no thanks".

It was a simple thing but it helped no end, and it was nice to just sit and chat together unattached from any kind of machinery with a change of clothes and clean teeth... amazing how rubbish you feel when the basics are taken away.

It's just gone 8.30 on Sunday night and the doc just called by to say that my blood counts are back up to where a they should be as a normal person, that's not a chemo knackered person but average Jo on the street- that it great news as it means that I'm in with a fighting chance in the infection stakes and I can start to repair and get better instead of just staying the same. I've also been started on some new antibiotic this afternoon that is to take out and "viral" bugs in my non aerobic system (gut etc) this should impact on the dihorea issue, the bad news is the camera crew are waiting if there are no improvements in the next 12 hrs they want to take a look. I have so got everything crossed that we dont have to go down that road!

Lock down...

Day 3 of isolation here on medical admissions at Trelisk hospital. I've been in this 8'x10' bleeched out, magnolia room for what seems like forever. Its a funny deal, aside from not actually being allowed to leave the room, I'm hooked up to an IV drip which limits movement even further. I've never even set foot inside a prison, but this has to be close, just no table tennis!

I was admitted here with dehydration following the sickness and dihorrea which has had me in its grip since I came off the chemo. While being here these issues have not subsided, this has made using the 'comode chair' I've been issued with, a chanllenge. Im not going to harp on, but using this thing in my current state has the same effect as pointing a jet wash at a breakfast bowl... No fun!

Ive not really eaten anything in the last four days aside from a hospital milkshake thingy that I was issued with this morning, this has left me pretty weak, which I didn't think was that big a deal until I had to ring the nurse to get the lid off.

I was running a pretty high temperature last night, which seems to have been brought back under control with antibiotics. The concern with all this is the way in which the chemo does a good job at suppressing your immune system. This makes you susceptible to minor infection that becomes really difficult to treat.

... So when's it going to end? Well, when my white cell count is back up and suggests I have a good enough immune system, when the dihorrea stops and I start eating normally again. We could be here a while.

Return ticket...

Well, no fun this week, battling sickness, fatigue and running to to toilet every 20 mins for the last five days. Due to not being able to hold fluids down I've wound up back in hospital. I've got a bit of a rattle in my chest which they are checking out and running all kinds of blood tests to try and rule out the possibility that some kind of infection is trying to take hold.

At this point it could mean 24 hrs or many more days locked down in here. Worth it though if there is an issue that needs attention. When I know more, you'll know more...