Life is not fair

From Monster Brains (follow the link to see the rest):

I've got three kids, so there's quite a bit of demon wind, let me tell you...

I just got off the phone with the Royal Marsden. I’m booked in for a colonoscopy and a gastroscopy on the same day. Yup. That’s right; they’re going to do one after another. It’s like the ultimate violation. It’s the probe! The PROBE!

Goddamnit. Bloody bastards.

And it’s only got a sensitivity of about 60%, so even if the result is negative, I can’t relax. Then it’ll be swallowing cameras and CT scans and wanky wanky wank. I hate having cancer.

Another review of my story “By Shackle and Lash”.

The Shackle and Lash,” by Euan Harvey, is another in a recent series of fantasy short stories and novels to take advantage of the rich culture of Arabia for a setting and a magic system. In this tale, two members of the Mukhabarat are demoted to prison duty when they run from a Hand of Afaz. We are told little about the Hands, or why these brave men fled; that adventure is merely the starting point for a tale of a mysterious blue-eyed prisoner who abides in unspeakable filth but carries in her eyes cloudless summer skies and the smell of hay. What this prisoner does to the two men makes a story worth reading.

Sounds like she liked it, which is good.

The Royal Marsden phoned yesterday. Apparently, I’m very anaemic–which explains why my training has turned so crap recently. It’s so bad they want to give me a transfusion some time next week. Ho hum.

From what I can work out, they suspect I might be bleeding internally. The most likely culprit is a melanoma metastasis to the small bowel, which has ulcerated and is bleeding into the bowel. But I haven’t experienced any intestinal pain or obstruction, and I haven’t been (excuse me, this is gross) passing melena (bloody number two). Or it could be that I’m bleeding from another ulcer. I had a tube down my neck in January that showed my ulcer had healed, but I could have developed another. I’ve certainly been getting enough stomach pain for this to be the case. I thought it was just reflux, but could be another ulcer, I guess. But again, there’s been no melena.

Another possibility, and this is what I hope it is, is that the combined doses of Ranitidine and Lansoprazole I’ve been taking have affected my uptake of iron from my diet. Stomach acid is needed for digestion of many nutrients, and long term use of antacids is associated with iron-deficiency anaemia. Added to this is the fact I’ve been taking iron supplements for a week now, and I’ve been feeling better. I’m going to stop taking Ranitidine for a month or so, and see if this has any effect.

Unfortunately, because of my history, the Royal Marsden want to make sure I’m clear of a stomach/intestinal metastasis. This means tests. And that means cameras down the mouth and cameras up the bum. Hopefully this won’t happen at the same time, because that would really suck.

They’ve also forbidden me to go running. Which also sucks.

Well, pursuant to yesterday’s post, I pootled out for what I hoped would be a three miler today. Ow. Like, really, OW! Unable to walk properly levels of ow. My gait was okay, my heart rate was fine, all other muscles felt good, I wanted to run–but my bloody shins were screaming at me after only three quarters of a mile. The pain was bad enough I was reduced to hobbling when I finally gave up trying to run. This is not a cadence problem (see yesterday’s post). My cadence was about 165-170 at the beginning. I warmed up properly. I’ve been stretching my calf and tibia muscles (twice a day, morning and night). So that leaves overuse. I guess I’m just going to have to stop running for a while and let it heal. I think two weeks should be enough, although the thought of not running for two weeks makes me cringe. That amount of time should give me enough to prepare for the St. Alban’s half marathon (which is coming soon). For those two weeks, cycling will have to do instead.

I’m not going to post stats for this week–too embarrassing. Total distance less than 5 miles. Ran on Tue, Sat, Sun. Terrible shin splints on Sat and Sun. I wanted to run, but my shins were killing me. But after I’d been reduced to walking after only a mile on Sunday, I tried picking up the pace and running much faster. Shin pain vanished. I wonder if I’m overstriding when I’m going at a slow pace. The Internet (Praise To Mighty Google) says in several places that overstriding can cause shin splints–and heel striking is a symptom of overstriding.

Given that I didn’t run for several days and my shin pain got worse, I’m not sure that the pains come from overtraining. I’ve started stretching twice a day (as well as after running), and I’ve downloaded a cadence program for my iPod. This week coming I’m going to get back into the marathon program, and concentrate on keeping my cadence up and my stride length short. We’ll see if that makes a difference.

Of course, with my fitness level as crap as it is, it’ll be a slow race gentle trot round St. Albans. But it’s nice scenery round there, and I’m sure the weather will be good. Should be fun. And I’ve still got a month to get my fitness back up.

Went in to see the oncologist today. Saw the consultant rather than one of the registrars. He seemed very pleased to see me well, which was nice. I’ve been having spells of dizziness after standing up, and I was worried that this was the tumour acting up. The oncologist said this would be very unusual behaviour for a brain tumour, and that I should look out for the symptoms from last year: visual disturbances, balance problems, weakness on right side, inability to judge distance, etc. I was tested for blood pressure drops when standing (negative), then had blood taken to check my thyroid and a couple of other things. He said he wasn’t worried enough to order a scan, but to call in if anything worsened, and he’d order an MRI for me. Next appointment, August 10th.

Short version: I’m now sufficiently unusual that the consultant is taking a personal interest. This is a good thing.

How unusual? Well. How to answer that?  Have a look at this link:http://www.skincancer.org/management-of-melanoma-brain-metastases-where-do-we-stand.html

I had Whole Brain Radiation (WBR) for my brain tumour. Median survival is 3.5-4 months. I’m now at 10 months and counting. I don’t know why I’m not dead. I want to say something meaningful at this point, but I can’t think of anything that doesn’t sound like a line from a movie.

I’m smiling, though.

From All That Is Interesting.

Skin cancer comes in three different forms: basal cell carcinoma, squamous cell carcinoma, and melanoma. BCC and SCC rarely prove fatal (although sometimes they do kill). The one to watch for is melanoma.

Melanoma accounts for most of the deaths from skin disease, and over 90% of the deaths from skin cancer. Its incidence is increasing, particularly among people who are young and otherwise healthy. When caught early, the survival rate is 99%. When it has spread, the 5 year survival drops to 10% (or lower, depending on whose study you read). 50% of patients die within 6-9 months. There is no cure. Melanoma laughs at chemotherapy and shrugs off radiation. Surgery can remove some tumours, but the cancer returns in most cases. Some new drugs have shown promise–but the lead time for development is looooong, and new treatments in trials likely won’t help you if you’re diagnosed with Stage IV melanoma–remember that 6-9 month timeline? Yeah . . .

Melanoma affects different groups of people. The people most likely to develop it are white males living in tropical latitudes. If this is you, then pay attention to your skin. If you sunbathe, if you have a history of peeling sunburn, if you work outside, if you go swimming in bright sunlight a lot, if you live in a tropical latitude (yeah, MUIC staff, I’m looking at you!), then you need to start checking your skin for possible signs of melanoma. It won’t take long, and if you catch it early, you’ve got nothing to worry about.

Signs of melanoma can be found here:http://www.cancerresearch.org/resources/conquering-melanoma/p2.html

You should check every couple of months. Yes, I know that’s frequent, but some nodular melanomas grow like bitches. If you check every six months, you could have a cancer form, burrow into your skin, and spread. By the time you check, it’ll be too late.

If this sounds like I’m trying to scare you, good. This is one of the things you should be checking for, same as blood when you pee or take a dump, or spells of dizziness for no reason, or any of the other signs that *could* be a sign of something major. (They’re probably not, but hey, better safe than sorry, right?)

Of course, you could just blow it off and say there’s no history of skin cancer in your family so you’re probably safe. And you might end up like me. Young (35 when it started), perfectly healthy, exercised a lot, healthy weight, ate right, family history of cancer limited to bowel cancer in a grandparent and lung cancer in an aunt (who smoked 20/day for 30 years) . . . and diagnosed with metastatic melanoma in August, 2009. Since then I’ve had four surgical procedures to remove tumours (long scars on my legs, groin, belly, and under one arm, neuropathy, internal scarring, etc. etc.), I’ve had my brain blasted with radiation (hair falling out, vomiting, confusion, probable early onset of dementia, memory loss, etc. etc.), I’ve developed an ulcer and Barrett’s esophagus from the drugs given to me, and generally my life has been turned upside down and stamped on. Hard.

But if none of that worries you, then go ahead and ignore any changes to your skin. Probably just a freckle anyway. Right?