23/7/19 Some great news at last.

I've been diagnosed with cancer at the base of the tongue in my throat. Not a good thing, but every medico I've spoken to has been extremely positive and told me it is totally curable with treatment. 

I'm not shopping for sympathy, but I'm not much of a talker about private stuff (much to Suzanne's dismay) so I'm writing this the keep family and friends up to date, and save you all a bunch of phone calls and emails. Maybe this will also help out someone who might go through the same thing somewhere down the track. It's always good to get the story from the horse's mouth, even if his tongue is a bit munted. 😃

For the same story from a different point of view, Suzanne has a blog as well: https://vanessaisagemini.blogspot.com/

It was getting bloody tough there for a while, and the Black Dog was biting me pretty hard. I wasn't sleeping, and as soon as I got out of bed in the morning I would lie the lounge and watch TV til I fell asleep again. Then back to bed at night. I'd lost a bit over 20 Kg, had no energy, and was dizzy when ever I stood up. I couldn't do much as the machine that feeds me restricts my movement a lot, so I'd lie there in front of the TV all day...still living of an nasal gastric food bag and not eating any solids. I just wanted to hide from the world.

What do you do when you stare at the box all day? You watch stuff you're interested in. Between the net, You Tube, Stan, Netflix, and the web I found more that enough stuff to keep me occupied. I was watching motorcycle travel videos, camping videos, enduro racing videos, and all the other stuff I love to do. I was also buying motorcycle camping gear off the net, mainly stuff I didn't need, but updating what I already had. Then it hit me. I was digging myself into a pit of depression watching stuff that I was starting to think I'd never be able to do again. Real mid life crisis stuff.

Then came the turning point. 

Last Friday I went to the GP to get some meds for my bloody chronic cough. Prednisolone is my wonder drug, and sorts my cough out in a few days, but it has side effects. Also, we decided to go to Wonthaggi to visit a Vintage Motocross Club race on Sunday, just to get out of the house. 

I popped my first Prednisolone tablets Friday and Saturday. No big deal. Saturday afternoon Suzanne fulfilled her wifely duties as usual and said "Just try a mouthful of this pasta salad". I'm supposed to be eating to supplement my bagged food, but with no taste it's nearly impossible for me, but I try. I slid a portion of pasta salad into my mouth, and YAHOO! I could taste it, and it tasted gooooood.

Sunday was a perfect day. Sunny and seventeen degrees, and I drove to Wonthaggi. It's the first time I've driven for six months. It was great. At the motocross I had some chips, only about seven or eight, but I could taste them. 😋  Suzanne said they were pretty horrible chips, but the still tasted better than anything I'd had for months.

Some toys from the Viper Vintage MX at Wonthaggi.

I think I need another bike.

More pasta salad for dinner that night, and then last night...PIZZA! OK, it was a vegetable pizza, I only had one slice, and I didn't eat most of the crust, but it was heaven.

Then it dawned on me. My taste has gone from I reckon around five percent to about eighty percent almost overnight. Why? I reckon it's the Prednisolone. A bit of web research turned up some positive results showing the use of this drug treat cancer patients and the restoration of their sense of taste. I wish someone had told me months ago. If you're  reading this and going through a similar thing, have a talk to your Doctor about this drug as a treatment. It might get you back on track and save you a lot of anguish.

It's such a small thing, but this little bit of food has turned everything around, I can now actually see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I'm feeling motivated again.

I'm about seventy seven Kg now, and reckon if I can put about five Kg on in the next week or so, they might start reducing the bagged food, and then get rid of it altogether in about a month, That would be real freedom.

Now where are the Weetbix, full fat milk, and Sustagen? I need a feed.


FLASHBACK:

One funny thing I heard when I was stuck in the Alfred for a stint was about a little old lady asking for directions. She must have been told to head to the end of the building, then turn right through the double doors, and follow the passage to the end. She did just that, in her car! I heard the Hospital P.A, going off calling for security and a lot of kerfuffle and I didn't give it much thought, but when Suzanne came back fro the cafe she filled me in in all the goings on. Never a dull moment.

2//7/19 This is hard work....

OK kids, I've been diagnosed with cancer at the base of the tongue in my throat. Not a good thing, but every medico I've spoken to has been extremely positive and told me it is totally curable with treatment. 

I'm not shopping for sympathy, but I'm not much of a talker about private stuff (much to Suzanne's dismay) so I'm writing this the keep family and friends up to date, and save you all a bunch of phone calls and emails. Maybe this will also help out someone who might go through the same thing somewhere down the track. It's always good to get the story from the horse's mouth, even if his tongue is a bit munted. 😃

I am wrung out, just exhausted. I'm so tired from lack of food and sleep that I have trouble staying awake when I'm standing up. Last Saturday I moved some boxes around in the garage then went o be early afternoon. I slept right thought to Monday lunchtime. 

The good news is I'm getting little nibbles of real food every now and then, probably not enough to help physically, but it does mentally.

I have now managed to drop 20 Kg off my body weight...I seem to be the only person seeing the positive side of that. If I get down to 80Kg, I might go back to racing a 125 next year, now that would be fun.

At the Doctor yesterday Suzanne had her usual near meltdown about my weight loss, so the Doctor is putting me on a management plan. I don't see how it will help, but if it make Suzanne happy I'll give it a go.

Personally, I reckon it's pretty simple. 

I'm being bed through a tube. 

We ran out of tubes and couldn't get any. for about four days.

I was in hospital twice without food for at least two days because they didn't have any.

You think people could work out that if I don't get my feed for a week or so, I'll probably lose weight.

At least the water isn't an issue anymore.😊
I've started making a list of places to visit on a ride around Australia, either later this year of early next year. f you think there is anywhere I should absolutely not miss, let me know and I'll check it out.

June 2019.

Things are getting serious...

OK kids, I've been diagnosed with cancer at the base of the tongue in my throat. Not a good thing, but every medico I've spoken to has been extremely positive and told me it is totally curable with treatment. 

I'm not shopping for sympathy, but I'm not much of a talker about private stuff (much to Suzanne's dismay) so I'm writing this the keep family and friends up to date, and save you all a bunch of phone calls and emails. Maybe this will also help out someone who might go through the same thing somewhere down the track. It's always good to get the story from the horse's mouth, even if his tongue is a bit munted. 😃

OK, this update is going to take the form of random notes. Firstly because it covers a time period of about four weeks, and my memory is a mess at the moment. Here goes.

Suzanne rolled out the reinforcements to try and get me to check in to hospital. First up Sister Jenny came to visit. She's a sweetie, but I think she understands that I've made up my mind. Next was a surprise visitor. Our next door neighbour, who happens to be a nurse. She didn't have any success either.

I accept that I am malnourished, and dehydrated, and I'm trying to fix this, but I just can't. The sheer volume of liquid food, which makes me want to vomit, and often does, and three litres of water every day, is just too much for my body. I can't do it. Going to hospital doesn't fix this. The food supply is erratic to say the least, but the fluid drip does help. My mental health suffers dramatically because I hate being stuck where I can't do anything. I've also picking up infections, not slept at all, due to the noise on the ward, and constantly being woken from medical reasons. Once I was woken at 5 am to be weighed.

Suzanne got her way. I woke up and my tube was blocked. I refused to go to The Albert so we headed off to Knox Private Emergency. After handing over a $300 payment (not covered by private health) we were in. 

What a difference. The place is spotless, the staff are awesome, and happy, even at the end of their shifts. The nurse had a quick look at my tube, walked over to the Coke machine, bought a can of Coke, and started injecting it into my tube. Coke! Can you believe that the fittings on my tube and equipment are different to the ones Knox have? Neither could I. Luckily, after out last visit to The Alfred, we bought food bags, feeding tubes, syringes, etc. with us. It took two hours, and the nurse said if she could have used her gear it would have been about half an hour. 

We were ready to go, but where? My vote was home, Suzanne's vote was, because Knox was full, another hospital. I submitted, and half an hour later I was snuggled up in a nice, warm bed at Ringwood Private Hospital. I think I was there for four nights.

Once again, it was very nice. I slept extremely well without the noise of The Alfred, and the barking of the dogs at home. It was awesome to see a couple of mates from Perth come over and visit for a few days. There was a of of laughter coming from my room for a few days, and the nurse visits seemed to become more frequent while Dr John and Dr Andrew were there. Thanks guys, you weren't what the doctor ordered, but you were just what I needed.

After a good dose of "Laughter is the best medicine" my doctor showed up and about 7pm and said, "I think you're fine to go home", music to my ears. Suzanne wasn't so happy.

At home on the weekend, another old Victorian friend dropped in for a coffee. It was only a 150 km round trip for him, just to have a chat. Thanks Phil, you're a gem.

Back to the usual grind of visits to The Alfred. My Oncologist is very concerned about my food and fluid intake. She's put me on an antidepressant to help me sleep.

My Radiologist was not happy with me, but admitted I looked better than he thought I would after reading all the notes and phone calls between the doctors and Suzanne.

When Prof Sydney asked my why I wouldn't drink the required amount of water, I explained again that three litres of water a day, when your not exercising, and the temperature is around 15 degrees max, is just way more than I handle. prof paused, then moved onto something else. A few minutes later, he stepped out to take a call. When he returned he explained he'd been talking to my nutritionist and she said I was mistaken, I only had to have THREE LITRES IN TOTAL. So one and a half of the food, and one and a half of water. I've been arguing this with everyone for months. Oh well, at least we're back on track and everyone of happy again...or so you'd think.

I looked in my feeding tube drawer when we got home, and we were getting low. Suzanne made a quick call and we could pick some more up the following day when we visited the hospital. Cool. I was down to my last tube when we left for the hospital. When we got there, there were four tubes for me. I use about three a day. We were promised that some would be posted tomorrow (Thursday) and a box couriered the next day. One of the four tubes I had been given was faulty, so I had enough tubes for Thursday. Guess what? No tubes arrived. Well, they did, they were delivered to the Post Office, and a note put in our mail telling us we had a parcel to pick up. Don't forget, Australia Post can't deliver mail to us, even though we are less than 1,000 metres from the Post Office. Another two days without food. I can see after a few weeks my excuse will be "The dog ate my food".

We're keeping close tabs on my calorie intake and it's going OK. I'm still not up to the required amount, but I'm getting very close. Another week or so and I should have this nailed.

I'm also nibbling and some solid food at last. It's been three months without solids. They're only very small bites, but a little every day. My taste buds are still only at about 10%, and I'm not producing much saliva yet, so it's a dry, bland nibble, but it's a start.

24 May 2019.

LOTS OF CATCHING UP TO DO. 

HERE GOES...

So things are supposed to get easier?

OK kids, I've been diagnosed with cancer at the base of the tongue in my throat. Not a good thing, but every medico I've spoken to has been extremely positive and told me it is totally curable with treatment.

I'm not shopping for sympathy, but I'm not much of a talker about private stuff (much to Suzanne's dismay) so I'm writing this the keep family and friends up to date, and save you all a bunch of phone calls and emails. Maybe this will also help out someone who might go through the same thing somewhere down the track. It's always good to get the story from the horse's mouth, even if his tongue is a bit munted. 😃

It's been a while since my past update, but I just haven't felt kike doing anything but sleeping for a while.

All of my treatment is now complete. No more chemotherapy, and no more radiotherapy. I walked out of the last session feeling pretty pleased with myself.

I still can't swallow anything, water included, because of the pain so I'm still getting all my nutrients from my naso-gastric tube, a tube that goes up my nose and down into my stomach.

That's great idea...but if the tube gets blocked, it has to be replaced, not a very nice experience.

I woke up one morning, disconnected my feed bag, and went to the toilet. I would normally run two or three large syringes of water through the tube to keep it clear when I take the food gag off. As I walked back past the bed I decided I just have a little nap. I woke up a few hours later, and the tube was blocked. We tried a number of things to clear the tube and even Goggled for a few more options, but there was no way the blockage was being cleared. Back to hospital for a replacement.

It was here that I got sprung. I'd lost more weight (about 15kg now) and was dehydrated. They admitted me to "take care of me". It was from this point that things went down hill.

Firstly, I didn't get any feed for two days because they forgot to order it, so I lived on water.

There were one or two nurses on the ward who were amazing, but the rest were very, very ordinary. Their level of care was nowhere near good enough.

I woke up one night and wanted to go to the toilet, no big deal you say. I had three tubes connected to me, so I got out of bed to disconnect them, but the tubes stopped me reaching the connections so I couldn't undo them. By the time the nurse got there it was too late. While waiting I'd actually pulled my cannula (Tube inserted into a vein to administer medication) and my temperature was through the roof, again. Yes, another infection. Thank you.

My naso-gastric tube has small, plastic fittings on it. They are fragile, so you have to be very careful with it. You guessed it, a nurse twisted it t tight, and broke it. She disappeared very quickly. So I had to go through the whole tube process again complete with X-Rays etc. Number three.

I was also being given increased levels of a Morphine based medication, which I just don't cope with. It makes me go loopy. I was totally paranoid. I imagined I was in a basement ward with no windows and the exits were guarded (I was on fourth floor with a window) and at night the nurses were having secret meetings about keeping us all under control with drugs. When I was awake, and closed my eyes, I could see a computer screen in my head, and I could log on to web sites and so on. I found I was typing away with my fingers when this was happening. Suzanne told me the best thing was when I threw an imaginary item across the room. Note to self, no more morphine for me.

Yup, I was really out of it for a few days. I was bombarding Suzanne with texts to come and get me. I wanted out.

It took me two weeks, but I finally bluffed my way out of hospital by telling the doctors I'd do everything that they asked and showed them that I could swallow water and pureed food just fine. It was a real struggle and incredibly painful, but I had to do it to get out of there. I won't go back to hospital unless it's a private hospital FULL STOP.

Of course once I got home things were different. I can't swallow anything, not even water, without it burning my throat. I'm supposed to have three litres of liquid food through my nasal tube, and drink three litres of water. THREE LITRES? I'm struggling with one bag of food and about a litre of water. This of course leads to "discussions" between Suzanne and I and she's not happy. It's bloody hard to put that stuff into my stomach when it makes me fee sick, even when I take the anti nausea medication. When I try the result is I start coughing, which hurts my throat, then dry retching, which really hurts the area where they have burned the cancer away, and we're back to stage one.

I really have had enough.

The doctors are all telling me how good it is, I'm healing really well, and I should really notice a difference and start feeling better in a few weeks. I've been hearing this for as while now, and I'm really not feeling much better at all. I need to see some results so I can tell myself this has all been worthwhile.

Right now, if I had my choice to undergo this treatment again, or ignore it, I'm not sure what I'd choose.

17 May 2019.

Are we there yet?

I see a bad moon a rising...

OK kids, I've been diagnosed with cancer at the base of the tongue in my throat. Not a good thing, but every medico I've spoken to has been extremely positive and told me it is totally curable with treatment. 

I'm not shopping for sympathy, but I'm not much of a talker about private stuff (much to Suzanne's dismay) so I'm writing this the keep family and friends up to date, and save you all a bunch of phone calls and emails. Maybe this will also help out someone who might go through the same thing somewhere down the track. It's always good to get the story from the horse's mouth, even if his tongue is a bit munted. 😃

Wow, it's been a month since I've updated this blog. Don't worry, I'm still alive.

I breezed through a couple of more rounds of radiotherapy, but then things went a bit pear shaped. I'll write a full update soon.

17 April 2019.

Big catch up.

OK kids, I've been diagnosed with cancer at the base of the tongue in my throat. Not a good thing, but every medico I've spoken to has been extremely positive and told me it is totally curable with treatment. 

I'm not shopping for sympathy, but I'm not much of a talker about private stuff (much to Suzanne's dismay) so I'm writing this the keep family and friends up to date, and save you all a bunch of phone calls and emails. Maybe this will also help out someone who might go through the same thing somewhere down the track. It's always good to get the story from the horse's mouth, even if his tongue is a bit munted 😀.

Sorry about the lack of news boys and girls, but I've been pretty tired up for the last few weeks.

Tha Naso Gastric tube that had been inserted is not such a big deal. I've been placed in a ward for a few days to make sure I can cope and know what to do. No biggie. This will be my food source for the next three or four weeks, at least.

Yahoo! Home again. All good....for now...

I woke up Wednesday morning to go to hospital for my usual radiotherapy, and was burning up with a fever. The Chemo has reduced my immune system to nearly nothing, so I'm extremely susceptible to any sort of bug out there. I found one. I was delirious, and told I was quite abusive to Suzanne when she tried to take my temperate. Another apology Suzanne. The high temperature is really dangerous at the moment, so we skipped radio and Suzanne took me straight into emergency. I was all a bit of a blur for me as I was out of it.

Emergency immediately rushed me straight into an isolation cubicle (no waiting) and every one was masked, gowned, and gloved up. The first thing they did was try and reduce my temperature, then get my blood pressure up, it was feebly low. The next job was to see what bug I had, and if it was courageous. They really weren't impressed with what I was coughing up, but I'll spare you the description. Luckily it wasn't the flu. Apparently I was moved around to about four different rooms, had numerous blood samples taken, fed a heap of intravenous drugs and fluids, and X Rayed. I remember very little of this. Once again Suzanne ran the whole show.

After 10 hours in emergency, my fever finality broke about 5 pm and I was admitted to general ward, it took ages to find a bed.

Suzanne drove home exhausted. This holiday we're going to take had to be a bloody good one, she deserves it and more.

I was taken down to Radiotherapy on Thursday, in my hospital bed. All the girls were very concerned. When Jo on reception saw me she came over and held my hand, and was almost in tears. A quick word about Jo. All the girls and guys here are absolutely bloody awesome, Jo is special though. She's was our first point of contact at Radio and is a very upbeat, happy person. Jo and I hit it off immediately and enjoy a joke every time I go in, and she always comments on my "colourful shirts". No big deal you say. Well it is a big deal when you go in there and feel like a bag of crap I'll tell ya. Jo's smile and banter as a welcome makes me feel 100 times better. So, thank you Jo, from me, and also from the hundreds of other patients you see all the time. You make a huge difference to us.

By Friday I was feeling pretty good so I walked down to Radiotherapy. The reception was much better when I walked in under my own steam. 

As I mentioned, I'm suck in a ward at the moment, they won't let me go until my stats are good. Here's a run down of or public medical system, in this ward. The nurses here are (mostly) absolutely amazing and perform brilliantly under duress. 

Most of the blood pressure monitors don't work, wasting nurses time running around trying to find one that does. Remember, they are taking my blood pressure every two hours day and night. Wake me up at 2 am, monitor doesn't work, go and find another one, come bake fifteen minutes later, wake me up, take my blood pressure. 

The two bed moving tractors on this ward don't work, so the orderlies have to manually push the beds around. There are a couple of ramps on the way to Radio, so they have to have two orderlies in case things get out of control. More time wasted. 

Most of the new, you beaut electronic thermometers don't work.

My issue with the one nurse is she had a cold and kept sniffing. At one stage she wiped her nose nose with her hand, in a glove, while she was changing my feeding tube. Right now my immune system is almost non existent, which is why I ended up back in here. This isn't a Chemo ward, but really? 

At least the view is better than most.

Wow, my room share mates this visit have been, um, interesting. It's a two bed room, so you think you'd be pretty safe eh?

The first guest was a lovely old lady, who was unfortunately very hard of hearing, which means that all day and all night all the nurses yelled at her. No sleep.

Out next guest was a drug fucked bloke who just wanted to confess he was a drug addict, and let everyone know "Its all a scam". I never did find out what "It" was. At one stage he had five people bailed up at the door (including a useless security guard) wielding his medication pole. I disconnected all my med tubes, put my shoes on, and stood behind him and quietly suggested he put the pole down. I'd had a gut full and was ready. He ended up putting the pole down and falling on the floor. Half an hour later he was throwing his trays around the room. No sleep. Off to The Psych Ward for him.

Guest number three was a real teat. I though I was grumpy. This grumpy old bastard was just a stubborn old prick who should know how to behave better. He wouldn't take his meds, he wanted water, which he wasn't allowed to have, he wanted female nurses. He loudly moaned and groaned about absolutely everything. You're 88 years old mate, grow the fuck up. Again this morning with the female nurse. I'd had enough. I walked over to his side of the curtain (I'll use my lack of sleep as an excuse for not being my usual , charming self) and told him so. I don't think we'll be swapping Christmas cards. I had to remind him again once. The nurses walked over and gave me a smile and a thumbs up. They are trying to help and they don't need that sort of harassment.

Today I noticed I have no hair growing on my chin. I haven't shaved for about a week and I've grown a bit of a mo, and some mutton chop side burns, but no chin hair. Oh well, I could never could grow a decent beard anyway. Suzanne tells me there are patches missing from the back of my head as well. Oh well.

No more Chemo, and only seven rounds of Radio to go. Not long now and recovery can begin. 

Desires in order of preference:
1. My throat to stop being so painful.
2. My taste to comeback.
3. Be able to maintain my wight by eating, and lose the feeding tube.
4. Go for a ride.

3 April 2019.

Busier than a three legged dog in a pine forest.

OK kids, I've been diagnosed with cancer at the base of the tongue in my throat. Not a good thing, but every medico I've spoken to has been extremely positive and told me it is totally curable with treatment.

I'm not shopping for sympathy, but I'm not much of a talker about private stuff (much to Suzanne's dismay) so I'm writing this the keep family and friends up to date, and save you all a bunch of phone calls and emails. Maybe this will also help out someone who might go through the same thing somewhere down the track. It's always good to get the story from the horse's mouth, even if his tongue is a bit munted. 😃

What a big day.

I started the day with a liquid breakfast, but not the kind I'm used too. Juice, Milk with Sustagen, a protein milk drink, and water.

Later in the morning the nurses arrived with my feeding tube. With a bit of lube, the tube was in before I knew it. So I now have a length of plastic tube going up my nose, down my throat, and into my stomach, hopefully. I say hopefully because very occasionally the little buggers decide to go into a lung instead. No one here really wants my lung full of food so the next step is to be trundled off to  X-Ray for a look see, and find out exactly where the tube us.

The tube isn't anywhere near as bad as I expected, in fact it's not a problem at all. I'm now thinking this is the way to go instead of a three month PEG, if, and it's a big if, I can get away with it. I might have to start smuggling fishing sinkers into my pockets for weigh in.

If you were wondering, I've lost about nine kilos in the last four weeks, most of it in the the last week. About a kilo a day at present. Any other time everyone would be ecstatic, but not in this situation. Apparently It's really hard to regain muscle tone after all the treatments. That's why they are all onto it.

My next visitor was Shaham. I'm not sure what his title is, but he's another Doctor who has been studying my progress. He's another one of those people you immediately feel comfortable with. He popped in to have a look at my leg. In the last week my right foot has developed a case of droopyness. I can't raise it above horizontal, and it's affecting my walk. My calf is also numb. One of the side effects of Chemo is nerve damage. It concerns me because it's my rear brake foot. It's OK at the moment, but if I loose the ability to push down, I'm in trouble. 

The best physio in the world, Nat, told Suzanne that it's possibly a coincidence, and I may have a compressed nerve in my knee from something unrelated, like sitting on a wooden stool, cross legged, at a computer at home because I haven't set my office up properly yet. Hmmm, job number one when I get home.

Word came back from X-Ray. The tube is in my oesophagus, and needs to go in further. The nurses gave it a big shove, and by big shove I mean a very gentle assist and glided it in about another ten centimetres. 

Off to X-Ray, take two. We arrived at X-Ray and there were beds and wheelchairs going everywhere. They'd had major drama in the waiting room, moved every one out, and told us they we taking no more patients. My orderly was switched on. He pushed my wheelchair up against a wall, grabbed someone who was ready to go back to the wards, and disappeared. What could they do? I had my X-Ray and was out of there in about ten minutes. Thanks mate.

Back to the ward with an X-Ray all clear, so we could hook up the feed bag. The idea is to start out slow and increase the flow gradually. I the end it will mean I can get a full bag in and not have to take all day doing it, freeing me from the bag and pump.

How much of an improvement is that?

Not as satisfying as a steak and chips, but let's hope it does the job. Pump away baby.

Shaham had previously asked if he could bring some other doctors back to take a look at my leg. I am a firm believer that everyone has to learn sometime, and I'm happy to be a Guinea Pig, so I said "Of course". Shaham rocked up with three other Doctors. It was interesting because the way he spoke to them I thought they were his students, but it turns out they were more highly qualified than he is, for now. He's on a path, and nothing is going to stop him Go Shaham.

One of the Doctors poked and prodded, did the pin prick tests, tickles and scratched me. Tested the strength of me legs and arms in all directions. It really was interesting to watch the process of elimination at work.

Next in line was my new Oncologist, Because I'm in inpatient now, most things change. She was great, but I like the fact that Grace has been monitoring me from the start. I'm sure we'll get along fine.

The highlight of the day was Suzanne and Paige rolling up. Paige's new cat, Charlotte, is settling in slowly, and was out and about exploring the house last night.

Then the Dermatologist arrived. I've developed another side effect, a rash over my back and sides. It's not itchy, just lots of little spots like a heat rash. A heat rash in Melbourne, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! She's basically said, leave it, see what happens, and if it's still a problem after all your treatment, we'll follow it up. I'm happy with that. She was more interested in my Mycosis Fungoides, even my diseases have Fun in them. She looked a little disappointed when I explained the affected area of skin was clearing rapidly since the intro of Chemo. She's keen to see me after treatment about that.


Shaham popped back again, just to have a chat about what he thought was going on, and to let me know he was perusing it.

Then I dined out on another liquid dinner.