The inevitability of biology: Dem bones

Today I had a full-body bone scan, in the Nuclear Medicine department at St Bart's. I had to be there at 11am in order for them to inject some radioactive tracer into my arm. Then I had to leave for a while, so that the radioactivity could do its thing, and come back to the hospital for my scan at 2pm.

In the interim, I had lunch with my friend Eva, who has just come back from holidaying in Argentina, and she joined me at my wig consultation. The NHS supply free and subsidised wigs for cancer patients, and there is a lovely woman called Vicky who has a shop in the ground floor of the West Wing of St Bart's, where she fits wigs for people, as well as headscarves, prosthetics, and other services. I had hoped it would be a fun trying-on session but unfortunately Vicky just supplied us with a catalogue, filled with rather un-cool looking chavvy ladies, with names like 'Shonella', and we had to choose from the pictures. There was only one style that I really liked, so I've ordered that in three colours, and I will get to try them on next week. But at least it was a fun excuse to have lunch with Eva! As I mentioned before, I'm still on the fence as to whether or not I'd like to wear a wig. I think I'd rather just rock the headscarf look as I'm not that interested in pretending I have hair, but as the NHS provide this service for free, I figured I'd take a look at what the options are, and it might be nice to have a wig as a back-up for those days when I really don't want to stand out.

I had to drink lots of water over lunch, to flush the radioactivity round my system. I'm really not quite sure how this works, when the radioactivity goes into your veins and the water goes into your mouth, but hey, that's medical science. (Edit: I just googled this and apparently it is to flush out any excess radioactivity that doesn't go into my bones.) Then I had to lay down on this machine:

They moved those two flat plates as close to my body as possible and then s.l.o.w.l.y moved them all the way down my body. Apparently, if the cancer has spread to any part of my bones, the tracer will either gather there or miss it out completely, so they will be able to see from the scan if there are any areas where there is either too much or too little tracer.

As the nuclear technologist operating the machine, R___, reminded me, the machine isn't radioactive, I am! Apparently I am not allowed hug a pregnant person for 48 hours. Stay away, pregnant people!

So now the scan is done I have to wait for the test results, which will go through to my oncologist before I see her next. I also have a CT scan next week, and will get even more blood tests to see how my first round of chemo has affected my blood.

A little update on my general health. It's now Day 9 of my first chemo cycle, and I'm feeling really good. I had two days back at work before my day off today, and although I was still a little spacey on the first day, by yesterday I was almost completely back to my usual self. Much more energetic, coordinated and with my cognitive abilities intact! I'm still very tired in the evenings and have been getting afternoon headaches, but nothing to be worried about. Today I walked the farthest I have walked since chemo. Walking is one of my favourite things, and definitely the key to my good mental health. I love walking, and often choose to walk the hour to work, along London's canals, listening to audiobooks or podcasts, and enjoying every element of it. Since chemo I have had very little energy so walking has been crossed off the list, much to my dismay. I have tried some little local walks but am fatigued after only 15 minutes. Today I had to walk into uni to hand in a deferral form for one of my assessments (I have an essay due on Monday which Chemo Brain will not allow me to do!), which at my usual pace is a 40-minute round trip. I walked at a slower pace than usual, and stopped on two benches each way, but I made it there and back with no dramas. Hurrah! Also, the pauses were pleasant. I walk through a lovely old building to uni called Waterhouse Square, a magnificent old red brick facade with leaded windows and slate roofs, and while I paused on a bench I noticed a plaque I'd never seen before: Charles Dickens, novelist, lived here. The things you notice when you stop for a while.