Rob’s Blog – 10/06/2026

Yesterday afternoon was quite the rollercoaster during my chemo session 11, during which I had oxaliplatin. Things took a turn for the worse; at one point, my temperature shot up to 40°C. Oxaliplatin really doesn’t agree with me—it gives everything a nasty metallic taste, and yesterday, it had me being sick right there in the chemo unit. Thankfully, the lovely doctors and nurses were there to look after me.

It was perhaps a bit of an eye-opener for everyone to witness how quickly things can change. Just hours before, at 9 am, I was perfectly healthy and had passed all my medical tests. By 1 pm, however, I was facing low potassium levels, a high temperature, and abnormal liver functions. All of that led to my treatment being halted in the blink of an eye. So, unfortunately, Lady P didn’t make an appearance, and I didn’t complete the whole of session 11.

Now, I’m left waiting to see what the plan will be moving forward.

I had a good night’s sleep, and I’m pleased to report that my temperature has been dropping thanks to the fluids I’ve been taking to stay hydrated. It’s now back in the normal range.

Fighting cancer—and supporting someone who is also fighting—can be incredibly tough. We’re in a battle for our lives. Lately, I’ve found this fight particularly challenging. Yesterday, I felt beaten, but this morning, despite being knocked down like an old boxer, I got back up on the count of ten. Physically, I may have been battered, but mentally and spiritually, I’m saying, “Is that all you’ve got? Bring it on! I’m not done yet.” I’m fighting for my life, just as my late father taught me.

I’m wondering if they might consider dropping oxaliplatin from my last session since it’s only an hour of IV. What difference will an hour make now? No harm in asking, I suppose.

For now, I’m off to grab another hour of sleep. I’ll catch up with you all later!

Rob’s Blog – 09/06/2026

Navigating the Ups and Downs of Chemotherapy: Session 11

Today brought some much-needed good news—Session 11 of my chemotherapy went ahead as planned. Thankfully, there was no need for the dreaded four-hour potassium IV trip. All my blood tests returned normal results, and my blood pressure and temperature were stable. This was a huge relief, as it means I’m still on track to complete my treatment by the 23rd of June, provided I can maintain my health.

After this session, I’ll be taking a break from chemotherapy. The length of this break will depend on the results of my upcoming scans, as you can imagine. I was feeling quite optimistic about the path ahead.

However, life has a way of throwing curveballs. Just as I was celebrating, I experienced a total body shutdown, accompanied by severe sickness. I felt utterly wiped out. The medical team has been investigating the cause of these sudden symptoms all afternoon. As I write this, I’m still under observation, and there’s a possibility I may be admitted if they uncover anything concerning, especially given the number of operations I’ve undergone.

As a result, my chemotherapy session has been paused—so no more Lady P for the time being. Right now, I’m feeling completely drained.

It’s a rollercoaster of emotions, but I’m determined to keep pushing through. One step at a time.

Rob’s Blog – 08/06/2026

Of course, she’ll be back tomorrow if all goes well and I have my chemo session. She better behave herself, along with her Parker! Yes, it won’t be long until the return of Lady P.

I truly hope that the health blip I experienced last week doesn’t affect my blood test results today, as I really need to have my chemo session tomorrow. No one enjoys chemo, but it’s essential. With only two sessions left, missing one so close to the finish line would be devastating. So, if everyone could say a prayer and wish me luck, I’d really appreciate it.

Honestly, I’m not sure what more I can do to stay healthy. I’ve followed my management plan, eaten healthily (when I can), and taken all the prescribed medications. Maybe I could have slowed down a bit, but we all make decisions based on what feels right at the time—everyone does that.

Lately, I’ve started to look more closely at my physical appearance. My once thick hair is now quite thin in places, my skin seems to have aged and taken on a strange colour—one I can’t quite describe, but it’s certainly not radiant or healthy-looking. Generally, my body feels worn out. I suppose, considering I’ve been ill since last September, that’s to be expected.

Cancer takes many things away from you; in my case, it feels like it has taken away my future. But does living with cancer truly rob you of your future? None of us knows from the moment we take our first breath to that last breath, which might not even be due to cancer. We must learn to live, but the challenge is to face those difficulties head-on rather than ignore them. We all have our own mountains to climb, no matter their size.

As it says in the New Testament, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

I personally want to enjoy my life in as peaceful an environment as possible. I crave no drama; I’m just going to let life happen, drifting day by day and finding joy in the little things.

Stepping back from certain aspects of life was obviously not as easy as I first imagined. Upon reflection, I believe my working pattern made me quite institutionalised over the years. When you’re used to routines and structure, the absence of them can cause anxiety. So, did I just end up rebuilding those routines last time I tried to take a step back?

The past can’t be reclaimed; it’s the decisions I make today that will shape my tomorrows.

Let’s keep moving forward together.

Rob’s Blog – 07/06/2026

Sometimes, despite my best efforts in management strategies and planning, things don’t always go as I’d hoped. However, this morning as the sun streamed through my window, I felt stronger than I did yesterday.

Last Wednesday, I had a consultation, and the news was mostly positive. My white blood cell count was a tad low, but the consultant assured me it was manageable with an injection if necessary. He said I should be fine for the next two rounds of chemotherapy, after which a scan would be arranged to ensure the tumour hasn’t grown and that the cancer hasn’t spread.

After leaving the consultant’s office, located on the top floor, the thought of squeezing into an overcrowded lift filled with unwell individuals was overwhelming. To set the scene, there are supposed to be two lifts available for patients accessing various wards and departments in this hospital block. Unfortunately, one lift has been out of order since my diagnosis. As a result, queues form outside the functional lift, and when it finally arrives—an eternity after pressing the button—everyone rushes to get in, creating a cramped space filled with germs.

Back to the story: after the appointment, we chose to take the stairs instead of the lift. This decision proved challenging, as I struggled to catch my breath. By the time we were heading home, I began to feel nauseous and utterly exhausted—it was a complete wipeout. I went straight to bed when I got home and felt unwell right through until Saturday.

Once again, I found it difficult to eat, grappling with an intense metallic taste that was worse than ever. I resorted to protein meal replacements, as my appetite vanished due to the nausea. For the first time, I found it hard to shower, as my balance was all over the place.

Additionally, I experienced peripheral neuropathy in my right hand for the first time. Simple tasks like doing up buttons, tying shoelaces, or opening jar lids became nearly impossible and quite painful. Previously, I’d only experienced slight sensations of pins and needles, so this was a new hurdle for me.

Nevertheless, today is a fresh start. I’ve reflected on what’s happened and recognise that I need to make further lifestyle adjustments. I believe my body is sending a clear message: enough is enough—SLOW DOWN.

Rob you are not the pre diagnosis man anymore.

Looking back through my blogs, I’ve discussed professional and personal meetings and targets far more than my physical health and mental well-being. Perhaps it’s time for a change in direction—a fork in the road leading to a new path.

As the scriptures say, *“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.”* (Psalm 32:8)

So today, I’m starting anew, focusing on slowing down, nurturing my mental well-being, and taking care of my physical health.

After all, living with cancer means striving to live the best life possible—complete with crumpets! I’ll catch up with everyone later.

Rob’s Blog – 02/06/2026

Back in front of the laptop after lunch.

Today has been a good day so far. This morning, I was up early and got a head start on my professional responsibilities. I finally have my energy back, as the chemo fatigue has lifted.

I completed my admin tasks and attended a professional meeting at 10:45 am. After that, I had a debrief with Mel at noon.

This afternoon, I got all my glasses fixed at Leightons in Fareham. They offer a first-class service! After that, Nellie and I strolled down to town to say hello to Andy and Adam from 157.

We decided to go to Vito for lunch, where I opted for tapas. I wanted to try something that didn’t have that metallic taste, so I chose options with strong flavours:

– Shawarma chicken skewers with mint yoghurt and harissa honey

– Louisiana chicken with maple BBQ sauce

– Patatas bravas with garlic mayo

– Sweet potato fries

I didn’t manage to finish it all, but I certainly made a good attempt!

Pauline had a chicken and avocado salad, while Nellie enjoyed a pup cup.

After our meal, we walked back to the car. Now that we’re home, Nellie is happily playing with a tennis ball , and I’m getting back to my professional work. All in all, it’s been a good day so far!

Rob’s Blog – 01/06/2026

Gosh, what a weekend it’s been! Sunday saw me hardly moving at all — I slept the entire day away and was back in bed by 8:30 pm, only to sleep right through the night. The fatigue I’ve been experiencing is remarkably powerful.

I’m hoping today will be different. I’ve had a look at my diary, and thankfully, there’s nothing pressing that can’t wait until tomorrow. With any luck, I’ll have a bit more energy then. I’ve truly never felt fatigue like this before.

It’s hard to believe it’s June already — just 23 days until my last chemo session! The light at the end of the tunnel is getting brighter.

Today’s a bit cooler, so I reckon Nellie Paws will be alright for a walk. Fresh air will do me good; I really need to get moving. I have a pick flush scheduled for this afternoon, so after my hospital visit, I might squeeze in a stroll.

The consultation did mention that the week following chemo is typically a recovery week, and that fatigue is perfectly normal. Honestly, this fatigue has completely taken me out. It drains not just the body, but also leaves the mind feeling incredibly tired.

Starting a Monday with chemo fog and fatigue isn’t the easiest, but the important thing is that we have a Monday, and we should be grateful for that as we navigate this cancer journey.

So, today I’ll just have to roll with it and wait for this fatigue to lift.

I need to get my routine sorted:

1. Shower

2. Breakfast

3. Make the bed

4. Quick tidy-up of my bedroom, which, surprisingly, has turned into a bit of a mess despite my weekend of rest. How did that happen?

I think I’ll go for porridge this morning with a nice cup of tea.

This week, I’ve set myself some tasks to complete — it’s all part of my approach to living with cancer. Last week, I made a mental shift by choosing not to refer to my condition as “palliative chemo” or “end-of-life care.” That language felt like waiting to die. Instead, I now call it “living with cancer,” which helps me feel like I still have a life. Yes, it’s different from my pre-diagnosis life, but it’s still a life filled with personal and professional goals. I intend to live it alongside Harold — my tumour.

Yes, I’ve named my tumour Harold; he’s now part of my cancer family, along with Lady P and Parker.

This is my way forward: living with cancer while striving to make the most of the life I have.

On that note, I think it’s time for that shower!