17th & 18th May 'Sorry, no avoiding the Chop'

The 17th was the day which heralded the first part of my chemo. 

The special nurse came in the morning to, once again, rehearse with me the long, long list of gruesome "possible" side effects of this day's part of the chemo, and those the following day. 

Talk about being on the 'naughty list'. There was everything, from orange/red urine to hair loss (admittedly, the hair loss was my least concern: I’ve resembled a roll-on deodorant since the age of 24).

The treatment I received was called R-chop (reassuringly similar to Lamb Chop). For those interested in such things, here goes:

Part 1:

R = rituximab

Part 2:

C = cyclophosphamide

H = doxorubin aka hydroxydaunomycin... (Phew, acronym intact.) 

O = vincristine ... (Oh, crumbs, another assault on the acronym; phew again! aka 'oncovin'.)

P = prednisolone (a steroid)      

Henceforth, both the R and the CHOP are to be administered together. But they needed to separate them out on the first treatment, in case something 'happened'. 

This was delivered with all the reassurance of Madam Guillotine telling me there's a basket to catch my head!

As promised, I was closely monitored both days, and seemed to have got through it all without issue.

After all the attention I am now forced to retreat to my hermit's cell. I do so conscious of the possible threat of a bowel tear hanging over me like the Sword of Damocles, as the large mass shrinks over the next couple of days. I sit. I wait. I long for resolution... No wonder my background music is Wagner.