Here I go again...

We are in our "Cottage" which is the motel we rent in Christchurch when we come for Chemotherapy treatment. We drove part of the way here yesterday and completed the trip this morning to get here in time for a blood test to be taken at St George's hospital. We are to have an appointment with the oncologist tomorrow and he will tell me if the blood test is OK whether I will continue to have the chemotherapy/immunotherapy scheduled for Thursday. We will travel home on Friday. I need to confess to feeling a bit negative about the whole process. In my reading about mesothelioma it seems that even if you hit it with pretty rugged treatment it does not improve the prognosis much at all. I have been having one week of travel and treatment, one week of feeling sick, and one OK week. Then the cycle is repeated again. I am to have four sessions of treatment so that is twelve weeks of my life that will have been mostly all taken up with the process. That is three months when I have not been able to work much. The stuff I need to do around our house and acre before my death has been delayed. Chaplaincy and worship leadership has been disrupted. As well as that the treatment costs a lot of money! But will the treatment give me three months more of life? To quote the oncologist, "There are no guarantees." So I get a bit negative. I am here. If I get the treatment I'll go home to a miserable week next week. I guess it is a calculated risk. Wish me luck! I guess it is right to do my best to be around as long as possible.

Tired but encouraged

 A simple card...

On Saturday I received a simple hand made card with a handwritten note inside. In the late 1970's we ministered at the Palmerston North Church of Christ for six years. It was a very busy time but also a time of learning. It was our first full time ministry out of college, and I look back and recognise I would have done some things differently now.  They had recently heard about my terminal illness and as a Church decided to send the card.

"You are both in our prayers as a congregation as some still in the community that gathers here in Palmerston North still recall your ministry here and the huge contribution you made in their lives."

It was so encouraging to get this little note after what has sometimes been quite a miserable week when I have had times of feeling weak and quite sick. 

The Palmerston North Church of Christ. We built the chapel while we were in ministry there. 

I can still do it...

My daughter and son in law came out on Saturday. We worked on repairing and "hen proofing" a fence in our paddock. It required installing posts and hammering in stakes. We did not get it finished, but we were working quite hard until it was virtually dark. I am a little stiff and sore today, but I was quite pleased with what I managed to do. I really think the horrible chemotherapy must be improving my lung capacity. I was puffing hard at times, but I am sure that a few weeks ago I would not have been able to do what I achieved. It encourages me because there is one further fence I want to complete, and I now feel confident that I will be able to do it. 

Over the floods, treatment and troubles.

The cafe we went to with our son: I love the Maori proverb.

The day after the treatment. Not feeling great but enjoying a walk in the bush.

My wife Jean. She epitomises the saying, "When the going gets tough the tough get going."

This is our youngest son Simon and his wife and youngest child. We had a great evening relaxing with them. 

Riccarton Bush is a small area of original native bush that has been preserved within Christchurch city. This is the original Dean family cottage.

Native Kahikatea trees. Of course used by pioneers for building.

Fascinating root systems of the trees.

Second session of Chemotherapy with Immunotherapy.

We had an interesting week for the first week of June. On the the last weekend of May in mid Canterbury (North of where we live) there were unusually heavy rains and the braided rivers that run from the mountains, across the plains to the sea, filled with raging torrents of water.  We were lined up to go to Christchurch for the second dose of chemotherapy /immunotherapy. We were going to drive up on the Monday and Tuesday to have a blood test at St Georges hospital on Tuesday afternoon. Our plan was a meeting with the oncologist on Wednesday morning, treatment on Thursday, injection on Friday, and come home to Dunedin on Saturday. 

Over the weekend more and more roads were closed to Christchurch. Our daughter Angela, texted on Saturday afternoon suggesting that we will need to fly. Eventually she texted saying that she had booked us on a plane on Tuesday morning. That was a good move because by Tuesday all roads to Christchurch were blocked by flood waters. 

We flew to Christchurch, hired a car and went through the planned program. Angela was working in Auckland from Wednesday so she flew to Christchurch on Wednesday, attended the meeting with the oncologist, and flew on to Auckland. The oncologist was very pleased with my blood tests. I had handled the first treatment OK. He decided he would increase the chemo by 20%. So Thursday the infusion went ahead as planned.

Friday was OK - Jean & I went for a walk in Riccarton Bush. The injection happened on Friday afternoon and we picked Angela up at the airport on Friday evening. 

On Saturday she drove us the five plus hours home through damaged roads and bridges. I was sitting in the back feeling more sick as the trip went on.  Sunday and Monday were miserable with very little food staying down. It really hits you like a bus and you wonder where your energy goes.

By Tuesday, I had managed to keep food down and had started to feel partly “normal” again. I went down the back to feed the hens and collect firewood and was surprised at how weak I felt. The chemotherapy impacts on every part of your body. Even trying to concentrate to read or write is quite hard. The oncologist talked about Chemo-brain, but also said something like, "Mind you if your base line is low, what can you expect?" with a cheeky grin.

After the first lot of treatment we found that it was not until the week after that I returned to "normal".  I have a guy filling in at Fire Service chaplaincy and I have lots of sick leave to use up so I decided I would have the full week off.  I don’t mind admitting it is really hard going at times, and I wonder if the treatment is worth the effort. …I have felt really sick, with all sorts of impacts that are not nice to talk about. One night in bed I felt almost delirious sometimes…. But today, Friday I am now feeling more energetic and even went to my favourite hardware store. 

The plan is that after the third session in a week or two there will be a scan to see if it is making a difference. I feel like I have more lung capacity but I guess we will see after the scan. 

After two more sessions of chemo and immunotherapy the plan is to have 6 weekly immunotherapy treatments to slow decline down, I guess until it stops working. 

That is my life at the moment... One week of travel and treatment. The next week of sickness and recovery. The third week of relatively normal life, but then the cycle starts again. We are half way through.

Writing a "book" 

It sounds like I am full of my own importance, but I am writing a "book" about where I am at theologically at the moment. The working "title" is "A happy heretic confesses and celebrates his walk with Jesus." I began and printed off a draft, but it has grown, been altered and shaped since then. I tell my daughter that I'm finished, but a few days later I will tell her again, "I'm really finished now." It is not really a book, but I just thought a few copies might be of interest to various people when I'm gone.  I am also putting together a history of my life for the family to share with grandchildren. Both exercises have been an interesting and growing experience.

Nurses are wonderful

Getting the treatment means you enter this room where there are six big comfortable chairs. They find a vein in your arm and hook you up, and I sit there receiving various drugs for two and a half hours. There are five other cancer patients coming and going, and I guess all are a bit frightened by finding themselves with various forms of cancer. The nurses are welcoming, caring, good humoured yet not flippant. They are under pressure because sometimes things go wrong, air gets in the line or a change of drug is required. Patients come and go, and watching them it must be emotionally draining working with us patients. I sent them a note just to say "thank you" and to express support. Nurses in NZ are at the moment seeking higher pay. I think these ones deserve it. 

Catching up with Simon and family

One of the good things about travelling to Christchurch has been the opportunity to spend a bit of time with our youngest son, Simon and his family. I have been so fortunate because both he and our local daughter have been very supportive. Simon has taken time off work to sit in on oncology meetings and the other day he came and sat with me in the treatment room. He spent time with Jean at the hospital cafe and after treatment we went shopping and had a special afternoon tea.  We also had a meal with him and his family and enjoyed sitting talking with and reading with his children. I am very fortunate to have the people I have around me, I hope they know of my appreciation.