Cancer drug is my lifeline – but here’s why I may choose to stop taking it | UK | News

How often do you pay attention to the small leaflet inside a medicine package? Do you throw it away, or do you get angry because it always appears at the end of the box you open? I would do the same, but now in conversations with my doctors I’m trying to figure out which drug would be the least dangerous. Yes, instead of thinking about what is the best medicine for my health problem, they should be thinking about which combination is least likely to kill me.

This is especially true because my biggest health problem is incurable bowel cancer, and after my last scan results I found out the cancer is growing. It has only been growing in the areas where it has been for the last three years, but there is a danger that some of these cells will separate and begin to proliferate in other parts of the body.

If this happens, there’s a chance that my plan to go to Wimbledon next year (not just the town but the tennis tournament as well) will be impossible because I’ll be dead.

This certainly wouldn’t be a good look, so my cancer doctors re-prescribed a chemotherapy drug called oxaliplatin, which would come with a large leaflet if it were something you could buy from a high street pharmacy.

Instead, there is a long informational meeting with the nurse before the first treatment. This may include being told that you may feel like your throat is closing and you can’t breathe.

When they were first given this medication, I saw people surrounded by medical staff and worried relatives after pressing the emergency button.

This is not my first experience with medication because it was part of my treatment plan for the first year of cancer. The maximum number of doses recommended to patients is 12, as the side effects can be completely devastating. I’ve had it done 20 times and used it again last year when it was prescribed incorrectly.

And by the time you read this I will have just taken my 22nd dose of the medicine. It had worked for me before and helped my initially large tumor turn into a much smaller mass in my intestines.

But there are risks to this, as long-term side effects can be devastating.

I was lucky last time, because the tingling in my hands only lasted six to eight hours, and the pain I felt when touching cold things subsided after a few days. And I know all the tips of the trade, like wearing gloves when taking things out of the freezer and getting drinks from the fridge.

But I’ve also seen how badly it can affect people, leaving them unable to walk or grasp things properly, effectively helpless in their own lives.

It’s a big concern that this happened to me too. I will do my best to prevent this by keeping a side effect diary to show my medical team how much this affects me. And I will refuse treatment if necessary.

I will also do my best to not let concerns about side effects and cancer progression define me. The easiest way to do this is to have as much fun as possible.

This included the time I convinced my mother to be my photographer at a lavender farm, just an hour after receiving the scan results.

It was nice to be completely away from hospital life and it was the closest I’ve been to a holiday so far this year (especially since there was an Italian guy in the cafe afterwards).

Maybe one day I’ll move further away if the side effects of chemotherapy don’t stop me.