Two for the road

Today I said goodbye to the UK chemotherapy ward. This was my last chemo treatment in England, and now (2 more left) it’s all about Canada. My doctor was thanked (I’ll see him again in about 18 weeks), the chemo coordinator hugged, and a Christmas card was given to the nurses. Job done.  🙂

Last June I longed for this moment – these moments – but found it difficult to imagine time would pass. Everything was overwhelming, yet not tangible; goals were blurry shapes in the distance. But guess what? This is real. Soon chemo finishes and we’ll move forward to the next phases: radiation and hormone therapy.

The doctors like to warn me that despite chemotherapy being over, I’ll still likely feel its effects for about six months. Maybe my emotions will go bananas, maybe like treatment I’ll be left exhausted, maybe I’ll still get tree trunk legs and tingle toes and crazy hot flashes . . . maybe I’ll recover beautifully. Won’t know till we get there.

In the meantime I’m thankful for the people in England who have supported me, fed me, encouraged me, humoured me, helped me, entertained me (all those cups of tea!). You’ve seriously made a difference in my life; these past six months could have been shit, but they weren’t and that’s all down to support.

Of course that support goes beyond UK borders, but next week begins a holiday in Canada – 2010 may keep its Cancer Catherine, because 2011 starts with a cancer-free me. England will be a fresh start when I get back (with new treatment), we’ll have overcome a lot of crap. Therefore my Southampton friends and hospital ought to be honoured. Happy Almost New Year everyone!

Fourteen chemotherapy treatments down. Two more to go.

I’ll write about radiotherapy this weekend, and maybe some other stuff too 🙂  but in a seperate post.

Orange slices for chemo

This deserves its own quick post. Here’s a tip for chemotherapy: It can be a nerve racking process, so if you need an outlet for your energy may I kindly suggest orange slices?


The idea was developed by my scientist husband in our kitchen lab while I was going through my vomiting spree. I couldn’t drink my Avemar without throwing it all back up; the taste becomes quite unpleasant (terrible) after hard core chemo.  BUT it’s been shown to help, so what’s to be done?

Zsolt’s answer: Slice oranges.

After drinking the Avemar I immediately bite into an orange (think tequilla shot but orange instead of lemon) and gargle/spit the juice. This really helps with the aftertaste.

Also, the chemo was causing me to have superhuman smelling power – making trips to the hospital really difficult. How to cope: open that bag of oranges and start chewing. So what if the juice runs down my chin? So what if I smile at everyone with the peel in my mouth?

So what?

They probably call me the Orange Girl, because whenever it’s blood or chemo time I’m always in the waiting room chewing on the orange slices – I see them staring! And oranges smell too, only good. Citrusy. Hopefully I’m not making anyone nauseas.

Therefore, I’d like to award a gold star to Zsolt for his ingenious solution to my problem. Orange slices. Give them a try. (Bring tissues for the juice!)