Fuck...Cancer...You sure about that

Sarcoma.......a malignant tumour of connective or other non-epithelial tissue.

Now that is a catchy title, Or shall i start with CANCER......a fucking nasty growth that eats away at you until you die

That was my biggest adventure as of yet, Not one that Trip advisor would recommend however you have to be strong and have the fight of a Spanish bull to do it .

You are propelled into a mine field of words with more than 7 letters, your life is one long train and bus journey.

You meet lots of people in tweed jackets and corduroy slacks, You get involved in sitting around making idle chat while a lady implants needles and Syringe's into every vein in your body.

Your given copious amounts of A class drugs and packets of tablets that try to counteract the symptoms they cause.

Now this adventure costs you absolutely nowt, Its free, Its on the good old NHS and people still complain about it.

Are you sitting sort of comfortably ....Then I shall begin

Back in early 2017 I was digging around in a cavity on my lower jaw trying to retrieve the chicken leg wedged in it and I thought to myself that it was time to get that tooth out and do away with the buckets of cocktail sticks scattered around the house and work,

A trip to the dentist was booked and off I went, hole in mouth and after paying for the treatment a bigger hole in my wallet, At the time of the tooth extraction a small lump was found just below the tooth so i was sent to a specialist in the Ashford Hospital Kent for a biopsy .

The days seem to drag when your waiting for a result to come back and in the mean time this little lump had doubled in size, instead of being the size of a pea it was approaching a small grape in dimensions.

The results came back as a calcium build up and nothing nasty like a cancerous growth .
So why had it started to grow.....The dentist and specialist said it was just swelling and stick to my job and let them do theirs

FUCK THEM... you know your body and I knew something was not right, I changed dentists and a month later i was sent to East Grinstead hospital for more checks, The hospital demanded that the biopsy results had to be re-tested and after another long wait I was called back and asked to bring my wife as well

Im no palm reader or clairvoyant and you haven't got to be a rocket scientist to work this one out, Bad news was coming.

We sat down in a small white room with tatty old seats and a group of nurses gathered around, Yep it was Cancer of my lower jaw and if left un treated would probably spread and cause more harm than good i.e pushing up daisies.

Being me i had to have something different and the cancer i had was quite rare, 1 in a 100 000 people have had this so East Grinstead could not deal with it and sent me to the Royal Marsden hospital in London.
I was living like a commuter now and time was ticking on

Again the Royal could not help so I was exported to the University college McMillan cancer specialist hospital near St pancras station.....This looked serious now and weeks had flown by since i was diagnosed .

A professor of chemotherapy ( this geezer wrote books on chemo ) was called in and told me in no uncertain terms that i had to under go invasive Chemotherapy for 6 months.
After a very long day in and out of little rooms with all amount of radioactive scanners and heart machines i was ready for the PICC line to be put in,

Now the Peripherally inserted central catheter is pushed into your large vein in your arm and guided via ultra sound up the vein and into your heart....FUCKING WHAT
The purpose of said implant is to pump huge amounts of Chemotherapy straight into your heart so it gets around your body quicker thus causing maximum damage to your cells, good and bad.

I didn't have much choice in the matter and it had to be done, surprisingly i felt nothing and after a few minutes i was privileged to have a lovely set of hose pipes hanging out of my left arm, cool or what

As we had to travel most days to London for treatment we were put up in a hotel just down the road from the clinic while i had the 3ltrs of saline and body bashing drugs pumped into me, These drugs were given to me over the course of 3 days and i had to have them on me at all times,
The solution was a blue ruck sack with a battery operated pump attached to it so where ever I was , be it in bed, in the shower or walking through a very nervous London , the ticking ruck sack would carry on regardless pumping the toxic shit into my body.....With the end result being DEAD cancer

The effects of the Chemo can not be described as there are many different types and people react differently to them, we are not all the same and side effects vary from person to person......However I had the world dragged out my arse hole.

With my body now containing more A class drugs than a light aircraft from Colombia I attempted to carry on with my life.

I am not the sort of bloke that will at the first sign of pain crawl into a corner and curl up, Nope Not me....I will smack it head on and then think afterwards ...... Bollox I should have rested or seen a quack about that.

With the Chemo crawling through my veins destroying any thing that it wants to my body was doing a pretty good job trying to beat it,
My blood count was getting lower and lower, the white cells were struggling to keep me free from infections and the red cells were at an all time low and causing me issues with the blood oxygen supply resulting in me passing out on numerous occasions.

This was a bloody hard time in my life and It didn't help trying to keep my small business afloat , It was a good job that I had a few very helpful mates around me that lived on tea and biscuits.
They took the piss a lot about my appearance and how little I could actually do at work but kept Vics classic autos going.
If it wasn't for their help in repairing the old motors scattered around my yard then I would be in some serious shit.

Six months passed and the cancer was crumbling away in my mouth, It tasted just like death,
It was time to have this unwanted parasite removed.

I was very lucky to have been treated by one of the top cancer hospitals in the country, Their commitment to the fight against cancer is second to none,
McMillan fund a lot of the work and is a charity well worth donating to.
Fuck foreign aid and homeless cat charities, Cancer is affecting 50% of our population and needs to be eradicated fast.

The top dogs surgeon called me in to chat about the removal of half my lower jaw .... YOU FUCKING WHAT .... It was only a small grape size tumor and now i have to have a big chunk of my nogging cut off ,
We spoke about taking a bone from my left leg and grafting it into my jaw to make a new one which i wasn't over the moon about, Im sure i needed both my leg bones to keep me up right and as im not 8 stone i needed all the support possible.

Option 2 was ROBOCOP .... A titanium plate was fitted in place of the missing jaw bone and my face reconstructed using my right tit, Yep thats correct, my right TIT

Guess what i chose, I always did love the terminator and robocop,
A date was set for the operation and my surgeon persuaded me to go for the bone as there would be less BOLTS involved, I reluctantly agreed and prepared my self for the op by having one less cake a day.

This was the first time I have ever had any surgery,
Although I have managed to destroy and write off a dozen motorbikes and have a fully grown fur tree crush me to the ground I have never had any operation and to say i was shitting a brick would be a huge understatement.

The operation would take a few hours ( 13 in fact ) I was stripped and placed on this bed of warm air, bit like a huge bubble wrap mattress.
Wires and hoses plugged into me, bottles of solutions hanging from poles everywhere and a squad of Dr's and nurse's surrounding my bed.
It was like a scene from casualty with me having the staring role.

Count to 10 was the last thing i can remember

I awoke to the sound of high pitch beeps and felt very restricted, I couldn't breath and panic set in,

Where was I
What are all these tubes for

WHY WAS THERE A GROUP OF FUCKING HIPPIES SITTING AROUND A FIRE SMOKING POT AND PLAYING A GUITAR IN MY ROOM

That morphine rely does screw your head up and people take that shit because they enjoy it

The operation didn't go as planned.

There I was laying stretched out on my very uncomfortable hospital bed,
The blankets were just about covering my man junk,
The room was dimly lit and full of men in white coats.
I could hear whimpering and the odd scream which came out the darkness in between the repetitive beeps from the life support machines

Fuck im in a nut house, what happened during the operation, did it go well or was there some serious issues.

Every now and then this face appeared and proceeded to pump more hallucinogenic morphine into my now swollen body.

It was very difficult to move due to the amount of bloody hoses hanging out of my neck and tit.
There were bottles of brown liquid hanging from the end of said pipes and i had what can only be described as a built in toilet plumbed into the end of my old gent.

I was in a right old fucking mess

For the best part of a week I was a space cadet, Didn't have any pain or much memory of what went on, however I knew I had to fight to get better.

If you think that being in hospital is the best place to be when your ill, Peace and quiet, rest, regular meals and medicine then you are miles away from the truth.
The noise of the machines beeping and chirping send you mental
The people around you are not that far away so you can hear every sound from their bed, the puking and shitting and the smell.....Now thats a mixture of disinfectant and death.

When you do eventually rock off to sleep a nice nurse pops along to check that your still alive, you are then woken up and plugged into the heart monitor just to be double sure.

At 6am some fucker with an industrial floor cleaner wakes you up shortly followed by the tea and biscuit lady, Now this I could have done with .. However my gob was full of stitches and the only air I was breathing was through a waste pipe sewn into my bloody neck ....COSMIC

A week went by in intensive care and every day a hose was removed meant that i was 1 day nearer to escaping,
My lovely wife did not visit me for the first week because I was in such a mess I didn't want her to see me, A cross between sloth from the goonies and the elephant man

The day came when I was put into a ward with other folk who had similar cancers and other head and neck surgery.
I could not wait to see karen and I only had a couple of hoses plugged into me now.
The waste pipe was removed from my neck and i could breath out of my mouth now, The mobile toilet was unplugged from me and I felt like a Human again.

Talking to the Doctors for the first time I realised that the operation had not gone as planned.
My leg had been cut open only to revel a missing vein therefore making it useless for the skin flap and bone transplant needed to rebuild my jaw

I WAS SHITTING ROBOCOP......95% man 5% Titanium

Turns out it was a good call to have asked for metal instead of bone to start with because if I hadn't I would have probably been shipped back out and put on the waiting list for a later surgery date.

To reconstruct my jaw they bolted this 6" length of Titanium Meccano in to my face and used my right tit to build up the tissue,
The skill involved here was epic, My tit was cut open and a couple of slots made in my neck and chin, the tit was then turned inside out and pushed up into my face thus making my jaw flesh.
Clever stuff....Only draw back....Im a bloke so had a hairy chest
Yep Ive got a mouth full of fucking hair so every now and then when im shaving its a case of short back and inside.

A week was spent on the ward with my fellow inmates and after going for tests to determine weather i could talk, eat and move my right arm
( being told that I might never be able to eat proper grub again was worse than being told i had cancer )
I was allowed home to recuperate,
The hole in my neck took ages to heal up and every time i exhaled my neck farted, this was very amusing in private but somewhat embarrassing in a public place
People would stare at me giggling and give me the how dare you look.....but i played the old cancer card and they soon looked away

Needless to say this has been one bloody long adventure , Not one I would recommend to any one.
However it certainly makes you look at life in a different way than before and appreciate the things you have around you

CHEERS ..... WHAT EVER HAPPENS NEVER GIVE UP