Update on oggbashan's health

...My beard is as bushy as it used to be and my hair is growing back even on parts where I had been bald for over a decade.

I am an anomaly. My next-door neighbour can't understand it. His mother, who was younger than me, was diagnosed with lung cancer six weeks ago and died last Friday. Yet I have had lung cancer since December 2018 and now my hair is returning it isn't obvious.

The other local patients receiving chemotherapy and radiotherapy are jealous. Not only did I retain most of my beard and a substantial part of my hair, but I had no side-effects whatever from Chemo or radiotherapy. I thought after the first radiotherapy session I was slightly bloated. It wasn't the radiotherapy. It was the full English Breakfast I ate immediately afterwards when most people are only able to drink water and eat very little.

You wonderful mutant! (Nobody tell Hair Club for Men. They'll start offering chemo and radiation.) It's great to hear you're thriving on the stuff. :) Keep kicking cancer-butt!
 
Yes! A fry up to maintain your strength.

How to annoy other patients...

That was midday. For the evening I had a takeaway Indian when most radiotherapy patients are thinking of something bland like cereal.
 
Ridiculously well. I am waiting for an appointment for a scan to see if the cancer has returned and have an appointment (face to face!) with the oncology specialist at the end of June.

My symptoms of Lambert-Eaton Myasthenic Syndrome are reducing. My speech can now be understood all day long, although it is not back to normal; my unsteadiness on my feet is such that I sometimes forget to take my walking stick with me around the house; but I am still seeing double most of the day which is why I have to wear an eyepatch when typing and make too many typos.

My beard is as bushy as it used to be and my hair is growing back even on parts where I had been bald for over a decade.
.

Long may you cause consternation to your medics, Ogg.
 
Slowly, slowly but still working...

I have an appointment with my oncology specialist (face to face!) on 29 June to discuss the results of the CT scan she has asked for.

But before I can make an appointment to have the scan I have to have a blood test. The letter requesting that I go for a blood test was dated 27 May. I received it yesterday, 2 June. It stated that if I didn't have the blood test within 14 days of the date of the letter my specialist would have to request it again.

I rang the local blood test facility within minutes of getting the letter and the blood test was done at noon today. Even marked 'urgent' it will take 24 hours for the result to be sent to the CT unit. Only when they have reviewed the blood test results can a scan be booked.

But the appointment on the 29 June will be pointless if the results of the scan are not available. How long before they make an appointment and how long for the appointment letter to arrive?

At least they are still doing blood tests and scans despite Covid-19.
 
I have an appointment with my oncology specialist (face to face!) on 29 June to discuss the results of the CT scan she has asked for.

But before I can make an appointment to have the scan I have to have a blood test. The letter requesting that I go for a blood test was dated 27 May. I received it yesterday, 2 June. It stated that if I didn't have the blood test within 14 days of the date of the letter my specialist would have to request it again.

I rang the local blood test facility within minutes of getting the letter and the blood test was done at noon today. Even marked 'urgent' it will take 24 hours for the result to be sent to the CT unit. Only when they have reviewed the blood test results can a scan be booked.

But the appointment on the 29 June will be pointless if the results of the scan are not available. How long before they make an appointment and how long for the appointment letter to arrive?

At least they are still doing blood tests and scans despite Covid-19.

All the best, Ogg, stop worrying, you'll live to outwit them! :) :rose::rose::rose:
 
I'm not worrying. I am either dying, or I'm not. Even without cancer I have lived a long time already.

We’re all dying from the day we’re born. The goal is to make the process as long and enjoyable as possible.

Try to be like my grandfather - his oncologist gave him six months. He lived nearly another 30 years - and outlived that Doctor.
 
We’re all dying from the day we’re born. The goal is to make the process as long and enjoyable as possible.

Try to be like my grandfather - his oncologist gave him six months. He lived nearly another 30 years - and outlived that Doctor.

My brother was given six months from his first diagnosis. After three years of chemotherapy, the last set was so unpleasant he decided it wasn't worth it. He was given three months but instead aimed to drink his way through his wine cellar. He died after a whole year in a pleasant alcoholic haze and had only drunk halfway through his collection of fine wines.

The forecast for my length of survival from last year was possibly April and maybe up to the start of August at the absolute best. But now? They have no fucking idea. I'm rewriting the text books.
 
My brother was given six months from his first diagnosis. After three years of chemotherapy, the last set was so unpleasant he decided it wasn't worth it. He was given three months but instead aimed to drink his way through his wine cellar. He died after a whole year in a pleasant alcoholic haze and had only drunk halfway through his collection of fine wines.

The forecast for my length of survival from last year was possibly April and maybe up to the start of August at the absolute best. But now? They have no fucking idea. I'm rewriting the text books.

A toast to your brother’s shade, Ogg. And here’s another one - may you have your own chapter in future oncology textbooks! :rose:
 
My brother was given six months from his first diagnosis. After three years of chemotherapy, the last set was so unpleasant he decided it wasn't worth it. He was given three months but instead aimed to drink his way through his wine cellar. He died after a whole year in a pleasant alcoholic haze and had only drunk halfway through his collection of fine wines.
Did you inherit the other half of the cellar? Because there's an option.

"You don't get rid of me that easily," said the puffin ;).
 
Keep up the good work. As I've probably said, we don't have an expiration date. That would make life too easy.

James
 
Did you inherit the other half of the cellar? Because there's an option.

"You don't get rid of me that easily," said the puffin ;).

No. His children and grandchildren are gradually working their way through it.

He had intended that the remains should be used for the reception after his funeral. The church was overflowing with standing room only and it is a large church.

600 people attended the reception and most stayed for five hours. But the village organisations decided that they would sponsor the event. The WVS and the local restaurant provided the food. The village hall committee, the tennis club, the cricket club, the tennis club etc. provided the drinks.

He had been involved in setting up fund raising to provide:

The football pitch and changing rooms;
The cricket pitch and pavilion;
The tennis courts and pavilion;
the village hall, its extension; its new disabled toilets;
The children's playground;
the intervention for the village's long term unemployed;
and other village facilities including the village sign - designed by him; the village walks leaflet - designed and illustrated by him; and one of his last projects - repair of the church's roof otherwise his funeral would have been surrounded by buckets to catch the rain.

At the end of the five hours there were still three barrels of beer and three x 24 crates of wine left but the whole village had a hangover the next morning.
 
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Glad you’re still with us; your loss would be ours

I’ve been absent from this site for quite a while. I’m delighted to come back and find such a dear, giving soul is continuing his contrarian inclinations, now directed toward the medical oddsmakers.

-Kethandra
:rose:
Or, this being ogg, perhaps you’d like :caning: better. I can seldom tell with you. Likely, the red cane-wielder might be better equipped with an hourglass-figure and corset, I reckon.
 
I’ve been absent from this site for quite a while. I’m delighted to come back and find such a dear, giving soul is continuing his contrarian inclinations, now directed toward the medical oddsmakers.

-Kethandra
:rose:
Or, this being ogg, perhaps you’d like :caning: better. I can seldom tell with you. Likely, the red cane-wielder might be better equipped with an hourglass-figure and corset, I reckon.

Thanks for this. At my age, a hug would be more appreciated but Covid-19 makes hugs impractical.
 
My brother was given six months from his first diagnosis. After three years of chemotherapy, the last set was so unpleasant he decided it wasn't worth it. He was given three months but instead aimed to drink his way through his wine cellar. He died after a whole year in a pleasant alcoholic haze and had only drunk halfway through his collection of fine wines.

The forecast for my length of survival from last year was possibly April and maybe up to the start of August at the absolute best. But now? They have no fucking idea. I'm rewriting the text books.

That’s classic Ogg. I’m overjoyed your beating the odds and making medical history. And I love your brother’s style.
 
Today I went to the Age-UK foot clinic to have my toenails cut.

I can't reach them safely and as I am Type II diabetic, accidentally cutting my toes could be awkward and cause infections in my feet.

But what a procedure! I had to wait outside with a mask on, be escorted by someone in full PPE, wash my hands on entering, be treated with my feet disinfected first, pay by contactless card, wash my hands again and be escorted out. But all of us saw the funny side of it and now I have reasonable length toenails until my next visit...

My feet are the largest (US 14; UK 13) they have ever treated and they are very ticklish but in very good shape.

Next - I am waiting for an appointment for a scan; I have a telephone consultaion with a neurology consultant on Monday; and a face to face consultation with the oncology consultant at the end of the month...
 
Today I went to the Age-UK foot clinic to have my toenails cut.

I can't reach them safely and as I am Type II diabetic, accidentally cutting my toes could be awkward and cause infections in my feet.

But what a procedure! I had to wait outside with a mask on, be escorted by someone in full PPE, wash my hands on entering, be treated with my feet disinfected first, pay by contactless card, wash my hands again and be escorted out. But all of us saw the funny side of it and now I have reasonable length toenails until my next visit...

My feet are the largest (US 14; UK 13) they have ever treated and they are very ticklish but in very good shape.

Next - I am waiting for an appointment for a scan; I have a telephone consultaion with a neurology consultant on Monday; and a face to face consultation with the oncology consultant at the end of the month...

Those aren’t feet, Ogg. Those are flippers. Are you sure you’re not a Selkie?
 
I now have enough information from Oggs posts to create a pretty good identikit pic
 
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