Radiation Therapy Completed

On Friday I finally had radiation dose number 30, the final one which completed the total dose of 160 Gray of X-ray radiation exposure. In the photo you can see my positioning mask tucked under my arm. It all went remarkably well apart from a few episodes when I ran out of the anti-nausea drug zofran. I now have a one month rest from the chemo therapy and I am really looking forward to that.

The end is in sight- Only 5 days of radiation to go

As I approach the final week of the six week combined radiation and Chemo therapy, the patchy hair loss from the radiation is now obvious as you can see in the photo. I must say that this this hair loss gives me some comfort that the therapy is being effective at killing the fast growing cells. If the hair cells are dying, that makes me more hopeful that the tumour cells are also dying.

Climbing again at Kangaroo Point

Now that I have the nausea caused by the combined chemo and radiation therapy under control again with Zofran, I have found that my legs and arms are still strong enough to return to climbing. So, for the last two Wednesday evenings I have returned to the regular gang of climbers. Because there is still a small chance of having a seizure I have restricted myself to climbing only. Not belaying, because it would be too big a risk to have me controlling the rope for someone else. I completed some of the easier climbs but Kiwi, the one pictured here, was a bit too much for me at this stage. I fell at the crux and did not have the strength to complete the route. However, I'm sure it will come back after a couple more weeks of practice. It's fantastic to be back on the rock and it feels like I'm applying Lance Armstrong's "livestrong" motto. I think it should be more than "livestrong", "liveintense" seems more appropriate because you need to take your mind off the tumour and live life as intensly as possible in these circumstances.

The fine art of avoiding vomiting

I have been learning a lot about the art of anti-nausea over the last five days. On Thursday I ran out of the anti-nausea drug zofran and had to switch to Maxolon instead. Up until now I have been lucky enough to not have any vomiting problems. But Friday's visit to the radiation clinic was another story and taugh me a new lesson. While waiting in the waiting room I started to feel extremely unwell and while sitting there I was planning my emergency escape route if I needed a hurl. And sure enough, next thing I know I was sprinting for the front door then the garden. After suffering all weekend I finally got to talk to my oncologist this morning and he suggested I see my GP about getting a prescription for some more Zofran. After a very queasy morning, and a lot of help from Cheryl (she's an angel!) we finally got hold of the Zofran and the change was miraculous! Just one tablet and suddenly the nausea all went away! I don't know what it is about that drug but it sure works better than Maxolon for me...

only 17 days to go to some more good times

Here is a photo of the pretty pattern I get imprinted on my nose each day after 10 minutes of being squashed by the face mask.

I'm starting to wonder if this blog is really helping anyone? It started out being some positive stories about living with a brain tumour (something you do not normally read on brain tumour blogs), but since the second recurrence I'm afraid the harsh reality of it all has brought me back to earth and here I am reporting on surgery, chemo and radiation instead. However, that said, after completing the thirteenth day of radiation therapy on Friday, it means that there are now only 17 days to go before I get back to some serious living and reporting on something more positive! By then, I hope that the temodal and radiation will have done the job and cleaned up the tumour cells remaining after the surgery. This time I'm hoping for at least five years before another recurrance. There are so many walks to walk and cliffs to climb!

Flinders Peak - first mountain since surgery and the start of 'Third Life'

Scarlet Honeyeater at the Flinders Peak picnic area

At 679m Flinders Peak is not very big, but it does make a great day walk. Kev McCloskey organised for a group of eight to do Flinders yesterday but unfortunately he came down with a virus during the week and out of consideration for the fact that I have just completed my seventh day of combined radiation and chemo therapy, Kev (and Karen) very kindly opted to stay at home. The remaining six of us met at the foot of the mountain after Gary and Catherine generously picked up Chery and me on the way (I'm still not driving because of the risk of a seizure)



Cath, Alan, Cheryl, Catherine and Gary on the way up
Flinders Peak


It was fantastic to be out in the fresh air again and my legs felt very strong up the steep slopes and rock hopping over the rocky sections, so that was pleasing. Especially as it took three months to get back to normal after the last craniotomy and it has only been a month since surgery this time. There was an in-depth analysis of the correct way to adjust for magnetic variation on the way up (do you add or subtract?). Time passed very quickly with our chatty little group and before we knew it five hours has slipped by and we were back at the cars. Thanks guys for a much needed lift of spirits. An outdoor experience like that is about as close as I come to being spiritual!




















Me and Chery on the summit with my home town
of Beaudesert in the distance behind us

Drugs, drugs and more drugs!!!!

My daily drug intake has steadly increased over the last couple of months to the point where I now take the collection shown in the photo each day. The worst one is the Temodal which must be taken on an empty stomach and you can feel it sitting in there fizzing away while you wait half an hour for it to get into the brain and do its thing.

Today's good news was that a blood test showed that after five doses of combined chemo and radiation therapy, my red cell, white cell and platelet counts are still fine.