Breast cancer, boeuf bourguignon and blockbusters
Yesterday, after my visit to Georgia, my oncologist, I went to movies. Alone. Sometimes it’s therapeutic to do this. It certainly helped that sad day a few weeks ago, when I was visiting my friend, Claudia Zwane, in the oncology ward while she was getting her chemo drip and the woman in the beds next to her died. Just like that.
She was a middle-aged Indian lady, probably a granny like me. Both her daughters were next to her bed, clucking around her like mother hens while the chemical concoction was being pumped into her veins. The next minute, her head just lolled to the side and she died. The daughters went hysterical. The ward with cancer patients was traumatised beyond belief. Poor Claudia, who was sitting right next to the woman (now a corpse), was moved away and we tried to resume our conversation, but it was almost impossible.
A dark cloud had settled in the ward. We were all playing the scene back in our minds. Was it the chemo that killed her or was it her breast cancer? I was scared. My heart was beating fast and furious and I had to follow my primeval instincts to flee the scene. So I muttered some weak excuse about being late, gave poor Claudia a cursory hug and rushed off to movies in Hyde Park. It was great to see Clint Eastwood (his skinny geriatric frame still capable of gunslinging) sort out his dodgy neighbourhood, teach a Korean kid how to behave properly and generally preserve the American way of life. I went home and I felt better and now only have occasional flashbacks to the woman dying in the bed next to Claudia.
Yesterday morning Georgia, my efficient, beautiful, clever oncologist carefully examined the results of my latest PET scan and the core biopsy taken from the lump I found on my chest wall. She looked up at me and I could see the sympathy in her eyes. The results were bad. The cancer was back. Despite the high daily doses of Tykerb that cost Paul a small fortune, despite my mother wearing out her knee joints praying to God to save my life, despite my healthier lifestyle and other “state of the art” ( how I hate that description!) medication, the sodding little malignant bastard was back. She recommended more chemo. Yup, she said that’s the only way. This time it will be something called Navelbine. We have to keep it away from your vital organs. As long as we can contain “it” in the chest wall, you’ll be able to live longer. Who knows? Maybe a new wonder drug will become available. Just stay alive and fight.
In January this year the fabulous Professor Roberto Orecchia from the Instituto Europeo di Oncologia in Milan under Professor Umberto Veronesi, zapped the cancer in my lung with stereotactic radiation. It was a miracle. I had a new lease on life. Unfortunately the new lump is situated in an area that was radiated two years ago and they can’t do it again. So, it’s back to chemo. Thankfully this new chemo stuff can be taken orally as my veins are now so criss-crossed and collapsed that every chemo session becomes a painful hit-and-miss ordeal as the nurses try in vain (hehehe) to locate a vein.
The new chemo regimen will probably start next week - we’re just waiting for the OK from Discovery Health ( I hope they pay and don’t let us down like the did with the Tykerb).
So I hotfooted it out of there for some movie therapy. Hyde Park’s Nu Metro cinema was calling me loud and clear.
If anyone was watching “Julie and Julia” yesterday afternoon … I was the redhead in jeans loudly munching a takeway toasted cheese sandwich to the horror of the Max Mara clad octogenarian on my right. I know I made it smell cheesy and warm in there. But it was comforting and certainly better than the smell of popcorn.
And it was good to come home last night to a house with four dogs who were overjoyed to see me. Paul, Nic and Ian were on the farm for the night (but that’s another story!) and they’ll be back later today. So I was all alone and played Farm Ville (it’s such a time stealer, that game) and ate Woolies buttermilk rusks for supper.
My boys will be glad that I went to see “Julie and Julia” as I’m cooking Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon for supper tonight and I know it will be delicious.
Tonight I’ll lay a beautiful candlelit table with my best crockery and cutlery and we’ll celebrate life with good food, good wine and the irrepressible wit and good company of my darling husband and sons.
I think from now on I’ll do that every night.