2007 — Details of the chemo-therapy

This is the text of my current weekly snailmail to my 90-year-old mother. It's an exercise in describing, as simply as I could, the details of Christa's chemo-therapy as Mama (understandably) is finding it difficult to take in some of this over the phone.

Since my last letter, as you know, Christa's been continuously in one or other of two hospitals. Her stay in the first (which is just a couple of miles up the road) was to stabilise her condition, improve her waterworks and her kidneys, and bring her pain under control, which was successful. This all needed to take place before they begin the real fight against this horrid disease.

Her second hospital, which is down in Southampton, is where she is now currently receiving her active anti-cancer chemo-therapy. She's been in there since last Wednesday, and is cheerful and optimistic. She has a glucose drip if needed to help her keep properly hydrated. She also temporarily has a catheter to make the waterworks a lot easier. She is still on pain-killers, has a few other medicines of various sorts (for example, to stop her from getting constipated, to stop her from feeling sick), and is (to my amazement, but apparently this is normal) self-medicating with the actual cancer-killer pills.

Let me describe the treatment so you can have a better idea of what's going on down here. It also helps me fix it in my mind as I have to stay on top of all this to be able to look after her at home and make absolutely sure she sticks to a careful routine. Each course of the particular chemo-therapy she's having for her particular type of cancer consists of three cycles of treatment, each of which lasts for three weeks. So one complete course takes nine weeks altogether. Day 1 of Week 1 she gets a powerful drug (it's called carboplatin, and is a colourless fluid) dripped directly into one of her veins (quite calmly and painlessly — I sat with her throughout the process).

Then, Day 2 through Day 14, she gets a carefully-adjusted dose of another powerful drug (it's called capecitabine, or Xeloda) in the form of tablets to swallow just after breakfast and just after evening tea. Between them, these two drugs basically search out and do their best to destroy all the cancer cells they can get their "hands" on. Then, Day 15 through Day 21 she stops the chemo-therapy, although she carries on taking any of the other medicines. This gives her body a chance to start rebuilding things like her white blood cells, as her immune system takes a bit of a hammering along with the cancer cells. The best bit is, on Day 7 of the first cycle she may come home to complete the tablets here. Then Day 22 is back for two hours for a drip, and home again. And back again three weeks later for another two hours of drip and back home. After nine weeks, they'll examine her thoroughly to see what progress they are making, and adjust the therapy as needed.

Me


I ended it "Fingers tightly crossed please! And I'll keep phoning" and I also mean every word.