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SWIMMING AGAINST THE TIDE

By Ali Bodie
Contact the author via the editor by e-mail at christopher.johnstone@ntlworld.com

I mentioned in my last article a flickering light in my right eye,I thought nothing of it and mentioned it as a mere afterthought to my very nice NHS radiation oncologist [as opposed to very scary Dr Death my BUPA medical oncologist - I'm just explaining the difference here because my rads oncologist doesn't want you all thinking I'm referring to him....] He ordered a brain scan, which I thought was a trite OTT for a wee touch of kaleidoscope eye.

I took myself off to Arran and as the weather was warm and sunny, I cancelled my brain scan in favour of swimming with the seals at Kildonan. I was certain my shimmering eye was caused by my recently discovered addiction to Ebay.

On returning home I found another appointment for the CT scan. Persistent bunch.

I turned up on Wednesday morning about 8 days before my Big Swim [From Holy Isle to Lamlash]. I lay on the table, asked if I was having an injection [much dreaded as painful],the girl said no.

Scan over, a senior radiographer walked in and gave me the dreaded injection. I eyed her wildly,"WHAT'S WRONG????" I'm not needing an injection!" "Oh" she said airily "its routine to show up blood vessels."

I was unconvinced, and said so [difficult patients live longest].

Scan over, the supervisor took me out into a cubicule, the Breast Care nurse appeared, and gosh, even the doctor bothered to come out.

Unaccustomed to such attention I must have lost the plot somewhere, when told to come back in two hours, I thought "How kind they don't want me to worry", instead of my more normal panic attack that they'd found something.

Off I drove in my Silver Beetle for the last two innocent hours of my life. I spent them in Marks and Spencers, as you would, if asked to choose?

On my return I was shuffled in by the breast care nurse, there was my nice NHS oncologist and two chairs. He wasn't smiling and chummy as usual. He looked grim.

He told me I had several brain secondaries, I told him I don't have that sort of breast cancer, he repeated himself several times before I started screaming. I treated the whole breast clinic[probably half the hospital]to "Oh my God I'm going to die"etc etc for some time, eventually I was led out to "The Quiet Room" next door, only to find it locked. So I stood sobbing hysterically whilst the breast care nurse ran to find the key. I looked round and saw every face in the clinic staring at me, open mouthed.

I was offered whole brain radiation the next day. I refused as it meant I'd have to cancel my swim,so I had to wait three weeks for the next slot.

The swim was great except I was utterly exhausted mostly with stress, and swollen with steroids. A TV company were planning to film the swim, but cancelled saying it would be too much for me. Later they said that after hearing of my brain mets they'd decided there was a fine line between telling the truth and frightening people. Bring on the pink ribbons...

My sister and I searched the net for trials, ideas, anything. We discovered rsr13 is due to start trials in February in Edinburgh. Its been very successful in prolonging life by 100% when used with whole brain radiation, but too late for me. The idea that this drug could augment my WBR and give me maybe a year was just such a dream. WBR can only be used once.

In the end mother and I set out for my first dose of WBR on the 11th Oct and on the way back we accidently augmented the radiation by driving into the front room of a GP. My mother was driving, how bad can a mother feel? I had a perforated bowel and peritonitis by the time I got to theatre the next day. Dr Gillruth's house is still shored up. My mother had a broken rib and all sorts of bruises, she's given up driving.

I spent the rest of my WBR being hoisted onto the radiation table,wheeled in in my bed [I used to look at those people and think how awful for them!]

So now its 26th Nov, I look six months pregnant, my steriod face is going down, I'm bald, and was making a strong statement about my right to be bald, but falling temperatures are outwitting me, my knees are so weak, long trips need my red cross wheelchair[actually its great being wheeled around the shops, effortless for me at least!] The insurance company paid me a large amount for injuries in two days on learning I was dying. I'm spending it on Ebay.

I've had a hilarious time planning my funeral although the minister says he thinks the idea of a tape of my voice leading the two hymns may not go down well. I'm having For Those In Peril On The Sea, I earned the right doing my open water swims! The minister also thinks Blairgowrie is not ready for a glass casket carried by seven large dwarves. Mind you I might have a bad case of steroid face by then so maybe not such a good idea.

I'm hoping against hope to get a little while of my old fit self back but as time drags on I get more and more inpatient. I'm off to Stobo Castle on Monday, I'll try to swim again, not my usual 100 lengths, just one will do fine!

Other hoolet online articles by Ali Bodie can be found at:
hoolet edition 49 - Perched on her Electric Chair
hoolet edition 48 - A Different Holy Aisle
hoolet edition 47 - Swimming up the Aisle
hoolet edition 46 - Support Groups and New York, New York
hoolet edition 45 - Cancer, Attitudes, The Cure... Not!
hoolet edition 44 - Cat In a Bag
hoolet edition 43 - Swimming Against the Tide
hoolet edition 42 - Swimming to the Holy Isle
hoolet edition 41 - Swimming In De Nile
hoolet edition 40 - Breast Lumps and Swimming

hoolet is the magazine of RCGP Scotland. It is supported intellectually, financially and emotionally by RCGP Scotland.

This issue maintained by Robert Hallam.