Happy Cancer Christmas!

Hey everyone, it's my first cancer Christmas! If cancer can be beaten by overindulging in roast goose and Ferrero Rochers then I'll consider myself cured. No one told me cancer and I were exchanging gifts this year, and I got nothing for cancer but received peripheral neuropathy in return. It's nerve damage from chemo which manifests itself as a loss of sensation in your fingertips. I'm treating this as a kind of crappy superpower. If the door handle on your car is too cold to open, my invincible fingers can help. If you drop your car keys in your fireplace or something I'll come over and fish them out for you.  Misplaced your pincushion? Please, use my fingertips. They feel no pain.

This usually goes away after chemo but sometimes is permanent. I'll file this in the 'worry about it later' folder alongside global warming, my 2004 tax return and whether a local supernovae could create a wave of ionizing radiation that would sterilize the Earth of all life. Next up is cancer New Year's Eve which is probably going to be a lot like regular New Year's Eve but with added tumor.

Chemotherapy Round 3

One of the good things about chemo is that it gives you some practice at being old. A few months ago I was hauling a 50 pound backpack 15 miles a day hiking through rugged back country on Canada's West Coast Trail. Now I takes lots of naps, drink prune juice and watch daytime television. I even have my dinner at 5.30 sometimes which leaves the evening free for taking my medication and worry about going bald. In fact, I might go out and buy a cadillac this week.

I had an interim xray and check up with Dr. Follows before my 3rd chemo session today. Diagnosis: serious shrinkage. Of the tumors. He couldn't find any of the ones in my neck, and the xray showed that the freakishly large mass in my chest was, well, less freakishly large. It's early days yet but things are going well. Chemo today was fine, the hospital staff were in a festive mood and the opinion amongst the nurses is that I should continue growing my moustache. It's hard to argue with someone injecting you with drugs, so the moustache stays for a while. Still no major side effects except a bit of tiredness and some vein pain. How would I describe vein pain? Pain mainly in the vein. It's not pleasant but I can live with it.

With friends like these....

Lots of cancer blogs talk about the strain that being ill can put on a friendship. Some friends have a hard time supporting someone who is going through treatment, they back away and become distant. Others quickly get tired of hearing about the litany of chemo discomforts - the mouth sores, hair loss, nausea, bone pain etc. etc. I've read stories of people losing friends who just simply don't want to be around a 'depressing' cancer patient. My friends? They cook an amazing four course charity fundraising meal with drinks provided by independent London wine store Bottle Apostle and donations going to the UK Lymphoma Association. So not only do I have the good cancer, I have the good friends. Thanks guys.

Celebrity Team Hodge

 I'm no great fan of celebrities but I'll admit they have their uses. What would Cambridge city council do without X-factor runner-ups and Eastenders bit part actors when the Christmas lights need turning on? Fund raising is another useful celebrity activity, and it helps when they have a personal connection to the cause. Even a cynical, aging hipster can't help but feel a little moved seeing Kylie fronting this years Fashion Targets Breast Cancer campaign. Same with Michael J. Fox and his Parkinson's research foundation or Christopher Reeve and his spinal cord injury and paralysis organization.

I spent some time with Google trying to figure out who we've got on board for Hodgkin's and the results were pretty crap. I'll share them with you. We've got famed Romanian concert pianist Dinu Lipatti. Dennis "D-rock" Miles, masked rhythm guitarist with Ice-T's seminal rap/rock band Body Count, and Canada's second favourite hockey player, Mario Lemeiux. Also 1980's WWF wrestling star Big John Stud, and Michael C. Hall, the American actor.

I wouldn't want to go to a celebrity fund raising dinner with that cast of D-listers and I have the damn disease. Besides, Big John,"D-rock" and Dinu are dead so it would just be Lemieux and the guy from Six Feet Under. Boring. Now I would never, ever wish cancer on anybody, but if fate dictates that a celebrity is going to get ill can we have a good one for Hodgkin's? I want to have this conversation:

Guy in pub: I heard you're sick with the Hodgkin's, that's really rough.
Me: Yea, but guys like me, Adrien Brody, Ben Affleck and Snoop Dog are tough. We stick together. Cancer can't tame this wolf pack. We'll make it through.
Guy in pub: Mad respect bruv.

Knowing my luck though celebrity team Hodge will probably end up with Brian Cox, who will upstage me yet again with his boyish charms, catchy pop anthems and supercolliding physics.

Chemotherapy Round 2

Another round of chemo yesterday. Had to wait three hours to start because one of the other patient's blood was so hideously abnormal that it sent the blood testing machine into convulsions and they had to clean it all out before they could measure mine. My blood checked out okay, except for some slightly weird liver enzyme results. The doctor said this is probably a result of the chemo and not to worry. I figure it was probably a result of the 2 gallons of mulled wine I drank at a Christmas party last weekend. Still no major side effects from the chemo. Slight hangover from the wine though.

I've been reading lots about cancer lately, and one thing that has struck me is how often cancer patients are described as 'warriors' who are 'battling' or 'fighting' the disease. I hate these sorts of mindless metaphors, I've felt nothing but an acute loss of control over my health since I got sick. With many other serious diseases you can take concrete steps to help your prognosis. Got heart disease? Lower your cholesterol levels and get more exercise. Diabetes? Monitor your blood sugar levels, inject insulin as needed. Cancer? Get your treatments, go home and hope that the drugs do what they're supposed to. I know it's important to eat a balanced diet, keep your spirits up and get lots of rest during chemo, but I don't think that really qualifies as waging a 'courageous battle'. It's more just 'getting on with life as normally as possible'. I think radio 5 presenter Danny Baker, who is also getting chemotherapy for his cancer summed it up pretty well. He writes "my body is just the battleground. Science is doing the fighting." Suck on that Lance Armstrong.

Moustache Cancer

At the beginning of last month I decided to join the Movember campaign in support of raising awareness of men's health issues and the UK prostate cancer charity. In addition to growing a killer moustache, I went out and got cancer, because that's how much of an overachiever I am. Okay, lymphoma is not the same as prostate cancer, but both suck and it feels rather nice to have raised money to help the cause out. In total our team gathered £1700 in donations, which put us in the top 500 groups in the UK. Nice. Here's a picture of three of us enjoying a celebratory pint in all of our hirsute glory.

In other news I'm still feeling good. No side effects from the chemo other than a slight loss of taste and some tiredness. In only one week the cough I've had for almost 5 months is virtually gone. I don't need a PET scan to tell me that means things are improving.