My Dilemma

I can’t say that Fiona’s idea that radiotherapy could make surgery impossible didn’t unsettle me, because it definitely did. So on the following Monday I spoke to Elaine, the community MacMillan nurse to pick her brains.

She had not heard of anything like that but, as she admitted, she is not connected to the surgeons so it was not within her immediate area of expertise. After a lengthy discussion she suggested I make an appointment with Dr. W. to clear my mind. Overnight I gave it a great deal of thought and on the Tuesday I spent ages with Google looking for research results and other material which could cast some light on the issue.

I found something I had come across ages before, soon after I was diagnosed, but had forgotten which stated that for the early stages of bladder cancer radiotherapy was a standard treatment but that if the cancer returned later surgery to remove the bladder was the response. That seemed to dispose of things.

As regards the success rates of radiotherapy versus surgery I did find some material from the Royal Marsden which suggested that it depended on the patient’s age and sex as to which was best. For a man of my age it really was just about even so that wasn’t too helpful.

However I couldn’t find any results which looked at the treatment regime I had gone through compared to surgery. There didn’t seem any research comparing chemotherapy followed by radiotherapy as against chemotherapy followed by surgery. I suspect that my treatment is too far ahead of the game for there to be any trustworthy figures.

So in the end I decided I didn’t need to see Dr. W. again and I put Fiona’s concerns to the back of my mind as I told Elaine when she rang later in the week. She had asked around her contacts and none of them had heard of the problem Fiona had raised so I’ll accept that there could be a slight risk but nothing more.

I know I have no medical training but somehow systemic chemotherapy to shrink the primary growth and hopefully kill off any microcellular traces that may have escaped followed by a carefully concentrated month of radiotherapy directed on any remaining cancer in the bladder sounds pretty good and I’m sticking with my decision. And if I’m wrong and the damned cancer comes back then I reckon I still have a pretty good chance that surgery will work.

In the meantime I am feeling pretty good and life is returning to normal. I still get tired in the early afternoon and I am shattered by about six in the evening and need a sleep but over the last couple of evenings I have managed to clear up the kitchen after our meal.

In some ways I feel a fraud as people I meet tell me how well I look. That cheers me up no end but some evenings I seem to drift in and out of sleep for a couple of hours.

Elaine says that just because I haven’t had major surgery doesn’t mean my body hasn’t taken a severe beating because the effects of three cycles of radical systemic chemotherapy can be just as serious. And I suppose that if I am still suffering aftereffects then the treatment may still be working.

Am I glad, therefore, that when I washed my hair last night I still found the plughole full of hair? I’ll leave you to decide.