Coping with Cancer - Side Effects

Its been a good week on planet cancer. I've had six days off the chemo drugs, there's been no more trips to A&E and the semenology dept has deemed my sperm as 'satisfactory.' Unfortunately, today its time to get back on the meds.

Currently I'm sat in Chilworth Ward of the Royal Surrey hospital, waiting while the nurse prepares a very large bag of platinum-laced liquid to pump into my arm. After a week of feeling good, I'm heading back into the malaise of nausea, lethargy and general physical decay that is chemo life. I'm not looking forward to it.

Luckily there's a silver lining. People have invented some pretty cool ways to cope with chemotherapy. In this week's blog I want to take through some of the remedies that I’ve discovered during my first cycle and others that have been suggested to me for the future. Some are more unlikely than others.

Crossword puzzles While on chemo I've found myself sat on the sofa watching endless episodes of Dawson’s Creek. My thoughts became profound and I felt really in touch with my emotions. I started writing poetry and composing a few song on my ukulele. Arrgggh - I was becoming my late-teenage self!

Eager to snap out of this I’ve started doing crossword puzzles. I can still use big words and literary pretentions, but without giving myself the profound life-lesson at the end. The ukulele’s back in the cupboard. Dawson’s Creek – maybe only a Sunday morning.

Cheese and wine evenings Cheese cures cancer! Okay, that’s not entirely true, but according to my oncologist cheese is one of the best foods to stop cancer appearing in the first place. He is also quite big on drinking alcohol and thinks wine is the best option for bowel cancer sufferers. So in order to maximise cancer prevention, every night now I'm slipping into my dressing gown, pouring a glass of Merlot and opening up the crackers. Anyone for a slice of Stilton?

Cats Chemo lowers brain function, so when humans blab onto you about their new patio, Donald Trump or the stresses of commuting to a highly-paid job – it can be a little difficult to tolerate. But cats? They're right on the same level. They sit quietly, they're warm, they like a good cuddle and they will stay on the sofa for hours without saying anything. Essentially that’s all I want on chemo. Angus, you're the only one who understands me!

Sex That heady mix of exquisite pleasure and mild neurosis can take your mind off pretty much anything. Cheese and Onion Crisps Chemo gives you a pretty horrible taste in the mouth. Everything tastes a little clammy and has a mild flavour of metal. My cancer nurse was aware of this and told me that the best food to counter this is... cheese and onion crisps. Cheese – its obviously really good for you, and onion – you can’t taste anything else. Perfect.

Cricket The outdoors. Slow meditative play. Some idle chatter between old ladies. Cucumber sandwiches and endless mugs of tea. For the chemo patient this is pretty much heaven. Keeping Life Simple If I wanted, I could spend all day thinking about how cancer was ruining my life. 'Oh boo hoo – I can't go running, I can't go on that trip to Japan that I booked, I can't go to London for the day, I can't drink beer or eat ice cream, I'm too tired to write or read a book. I don't even want to eat dinner.' Instead I appreciate what I can do. In the words of poet Julia Darling:

'I never thought that life could get this small that I would care so much about a cup, the taste of tea, the texture of a shawl, and whether or not I should get up. I'm not unhappy. I have learnt to drift and sip. The smallest things are gifts.' I realise now that all of the above cures are merely small gifts. Relaxation, a glass of wine, snacks, affection – they’re all simple pleasures that get us through the complications of life. Chemotherapy is pretty intense, but at the end of the day its just another of life’s challenges and there’s ways to get through it. Have a great weekend. Enjoy a glass of wine or whatever simple pleasure keeps you going. I’ll see you at the cheese counter of Waitrose.

Next week - I get some free acupuncture; more chat-up lines from the chemo ward ‘so...come here often?’ and Top 10 Best Attempts at Empathy - ‘My wife had bowel cancer just like you.’ ‘Oh, how is she?’ ‘She’s dead.’

See you in a week!