Treatment

Firstly I would like to thank those people who have communicated with me via Twitter and you are right, the questions asked defy logic and my patience time and time again.

This enemy within us effects not just the target host but the support network we have around us and it is ongoing, so every day my response is the same “I fecking hate it.”

I had my pre-assessment with the chemotherapy nurse the other day.

For the spectators amongst you I am a member of GB4 (glioblastoma level 4) and I like to think of this as being part of an elite downhill bobsled team.

The nurse went through some of the possible side effects of the treatment and I would like to voice why I think we are going to hell in a handbag.

1. Driver. If you are the same as me you cannot drive as your licence will have been suspended so we are going down a track with no-one behind the wheel. So that makes us all passengers.

2. Nausea and vomiting. Got my paper bag at the ready but cannot see the benefit of this as hurtling down and unable to deploy and so I am sorry for fellow passengers for the smell of sick in advance, should it happen.

3. Constipation. Got my spare underpants but may not need them with this, but stood at the top of the track I am losing traction as this hasnt kicked in yet. However I could use them as a wind assisted sail because I am producing as much methane as your local bovine, thus not helping global warming. (Guess my trip to the Amazon rainforest is off as I would only fan the flames).

4. Dementia and short term memory loss. Cant do brakeman as may forget to stop and have enough shit without fractures in A&E to add to.

5. I have been told I have to drink 3 to 4 litres of water per day, jeez just ask me to drain the Atlantic every 24 hours. Sounds like a Harry Pòtter horcrux challenge to me. J.K Rowling fans you know what scene I am talking about so come out from under the stairs.

I had this scenario in hospital where I was told to drink copious amounts of water and ended up with a stomach like a camels hump and the bladder of a gnat as I could not pee. I was offered a fashion accessory (a catheter) all the rage on the catwalks I hear. My wife does crochet so should you require a unique one-off matching ensemble I can ask her to make one rather than the carrier bag normally swinging off ones hip.

So our sled in going to be crowded but so cosy.

While I will not be setting the fastest time, and I know I am extremely unlikely to make a podium finish, 99.9% of the time I am a safe driver or at least I was until Brian came into my head. What I do know is I will make the finish line.

Come on, who obeys the speed limit all the time? Coming off a dual carriageway onto a single lane do you hit the brake immediately? Well bully for you if you do.

So as I stand at the top of the track I would like to thank all my fellow combatants and the spectators cheering me on at the finish line and please remember to wrap up warm as another potential side effect is chills and illness and I would hate for any of us to get down and be unable to be greeted and hugged at the finish line.

For those of you who have read through the whole of this saga I thank you for your patience.

Those of you in the sled along with me who started reading this then skimmed through and read the end your treatment can do this to you.

I was going to finish with a few words from my sponsors, the pharmaceutical companies, but hearing some of the possible side effects listed above and others that may require that second set of underpants I will reserve judgement until I am safely down the track.

I look forward to hearing your journeys down the course and cancer, as always, Futue te ipsum.