So how are you going to celebrate, I was asked a couple of times. You know I hadn’t given it any thought. From the first day of radiation therapy, I was looking forward to this day. Now that it’s all finished, for whatever strange reason, I really wasn’t that bothered.

I was fortunate that all of the appointments were around the 14.20pm to 15.30pm mark. I worked during the mornings, unlike last time where I was off completely for the five week duration. That was completely my choice. I figured being kept busy was the best for me and it was. There were a few days when I didn’t work due to the accumulative lack of sleep catching up on me. Those days I was really knocked out and I had no choice other than laying my head back down.

This is the second round of radiotherapy. Slowly after the radical operation, my PSA began to creep up again. Eventually it was decided that I needed a course of radiotherapy. That first round failed, they had targeted the prostate bed, but that was not the right place. So here I am again, this time targeting the prostate bed.

My sleep before on the hormone treatment was bad enough but this was just a little more torture. It was now a maximum of 1.5 hours and then having to pee. To my surprise other than those ropey days, I functioned pretty well. Sometimes at home I would manage a power nap during lunch, but I didn’t suffer otherwise.

The day started with me calculating the time I needed to leave, either from home or work. I walked up to the hospital and passed the homeless man who greets everyone who passes him with either a ‘good afternoon sir’ or ‘good afternoon madam’. Then I zig-zag through the assortment of people with their visible ailments. This always reminds me that even though I don’t always feel it, I am quite fortunate.

Lift to the second floor and I book in with the receptionist. There are a number of them. One remembered me from last year with a smile, another who just remembered my name today and the others who just tick a box. They tell you which half of the department you need to sit in and you wait for your name to eventually be called. While you are waiting for your name to be called you are meant to get familiar with the dreaded squeezy enema. Fortunately (or maybe not so) it only took a few death ray zaps for my bowels to become over reactive to the point that going two or three times a day is quite common, so no more enema.

Then the water torture would start.

One of the nurses would come out and tell you that you should start drinking. This should be at the 20 minute countdown to getting zapped, but that’s a hope. One full cup, which holds 350ml of water. My bladder needed to contain between 250ml and 350ml of water. Depending on my hydration, on the day, that water is going to go straight through or trickle through me. Eventually, my name would come up on the screens and tell you which of the 6 radiotherapy machines you will be using. You go through to one of the 12 changing rooms. They have 2 doors one facing the waiting area and the other facing the radiotherapy area. If you are lucky you have your ultrasound scan which measures how much is in your bladder. If all is OK and you are led straight into the scanner room. The majority of the time however you are waiting outside the scanner and now it’s a race against time and gravity. If you need to pee you have to hold it for as long as you can but if that is not possible you have to release a 5 second stream. Anymore than that and you are under the required amount and you will have to take another cup of water and the cycle begins again. If you are right on the edge, as I was a couple of times, you have an uncomfortable scan trying hard not to pee yourself. Turns out that on my notes my bladder is listed as a ‘quick filler’ so I had a lot of fun and games navigating my bladder retention.

Once you are given the green light you hop aboard a metal ‘bed’. At the initial meeting before the scans start you are given a blue piece of cloth about the size of pillow case. This rests under your butt so they can slide/pull you into the correct position on the machine. The nurses work in pairs and after confirming your name and address the set about calling out and confirming the measurements. Once they are all finished they tell you they are leaving the room and there are between 16 and 20 beeps leading up to the door closing and the scan beginning.

The scan begins. Resembling one half of a giant old style telephone handset, it’s less than 2 feet above me. They may make a few more minor adjustments to the bed from their office and then the imaging machine swings in and then eventually out to the side. Slight delay and then you hear the scanner power up. Starting from underneath it does a full circle anti clockwise and then clockwise. A few moments after that and it’s all over. A quick mad dash to the toilet and then get changed and go home.

Then just set to repeat for the next 25 days.

Unfortunately, the water works would be up the creak for the rest of the evening. More often than not I need to go again before the train came along. Thankfully the train I took home always has a toilet on it so on numerous occasions when I have had to have yet another pee it saved me. To take it to another extreme I was videoing a child’s blessing and things were going great. Eventually they started sending the tables to dinner and out of nowhere I got a faint grumbling in my stomach. Faint enough that I could just have ignored it and carried on. Upset stomach (I’m being nice with my words here) is a prominent side effect that is mentioned with radiotherapy.

The 5 weeks actually flew by, seeming more like 3 weeks. At the final consultation with the doctor, she told me that I got off quite lightly with the few side effects that I had. The sleep pattern hasn’t changed, I am practically guaranteed to get up three times in the night.

There was worse to come in the side effects department however. IBS or Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I am going to spare you the near misses I had with that one.

Slowly the side effects eased off once the radiotherapy stopped. Just the three times a night visits still keeping me company.

No not quite time to celebrate.