中The tsunami subsided, leaving behind a scene of devastation.
The daily visits to the hospital ceased, so did the 2Gy-per-dose radiation, but the side effects persisted. I had been reminded by the oncologist and radiographers to expect worsening of the side effects during the two weeks post-treatment, before any signs of recovery. The situation was akin to a tsunami-hit city facing an infectious disease outbreak, just to add salt to injury.
Would the side effects worsen? Or did we manage to stem the tide (well, shall I say “tidal waves”) with traditional Chinese medicine (TCM)? I simply didn’t know, and there wasn’t much point fretting about it. Just take one day at a time.
The three TCM consultations during radiotherapy (RT) were more about propping up my physical health to get by the bombardment by strong X-rays. In the very first consultation, my pulse diagnosis revealed how badly battered my body was (even though the side effects had just taken hold), to the extent that my TCM doctor was seriously concerned whether my body could withstand the remaining RT sessions. Fortunately, to his relief, such frailty was short-lived and the pulse diagnosis gradually improved in subsequent consultations as TCM took effect, despite me experiencing no noticeable easing of side effects. Once I was done with the 30 RT sessions, my TCM doctor ensured I got to see him at the first instance, as the treatment entered a new phase that focused on supporting the body to rebuild from the rubble.
So, the first week post-RT turned out to be half as expected. The side effects indeed persisted, but didn’t deteriorate as feared. Lucky escape, huh? My daily “routine” was about getting lots of sleep, punctuated by the consumption of YouTube cooking and travel shows in my waking hours. Remember the morphine that took some effort to obtain? Well, I used it three times, but it didn’t magically take any pain away. What an anticlimax! Since opioids can be addictive, instead of discussing with the medical team about upping the dose, I just resorted to the “normal” household analgesics.
Despite being on TCM herbs for weeks, I was still rather poorly. To further support my recovery, my TCM doctor was adamant that I should take the only portion of ginseng from his own personal pharmacy and asked my mother to prepare it without delay. This is not any ordinary gift —— it’s top quality red ginseng reserved for emergency use in his own family, generously shared with me, in addition to the excellent care I had received. I can’t be more grateful. After all, such top grade ginseng is not easy to source in the UK, even if money was no object. UK prices for medium grade ones are extortionate when compared to similar products in Asia. Jobless me had to watch my pocket, you see...... Could relatives and friends in the Far East help? Not really. Rampant COVID-19 was disrupting international postal services; airmail took weeks and even “express” deliveries took days. Factoring in courier costs, custom duties and VAT, it just wasn’t worth the bother. There’s also the worry of being conned by rogue retailers, since none of my relatives and friends is a connoisseur of medicinal Chinese herbs. My ginseng prescription was a timely, precious, and priceless lifeline.
The ginseng was rather powerful. How could I tell? My biological clock was kind of nocturnal back then, and I often took the second (last) dose of TCM at around 10 pm. What I overlooked was the well-documented effect of ginseng keeping us awake! Ooops! 3am...... 4am...... I was not sleepy at all! Those wee hours of the morning should have been bedtime for the nocturnal me! How to kill time? Lengthy YouTube documentaries on food and travel were always a scroll and a tap away. Fortunately it’s late autumn with longer nights, usually I would doze off before daybreak to get some proper sleep.
Moving onto the middle of the second week post-RT, the first signs of recovery finally emerged! Saliva thinned and returned to a more normal colour, gone was the yellowish green gooey mess. Some tiny lesions in the oral cavity started healing, allowing me to try eating some “normal” food. What was the first to return to the menu? Nothing exquisite, just my favourite soya bean sprouts. Sensing the texture of food again was special after some five weeks of a mostly liquidised diet. Meanwhile, I finally had the capacity to tackle the eczema that flared up during RT. The strategy was to use low doses of topical steroid cream to ease the itch and curb its spread, while playing the waiting game for the immune system to calm down.
The recovery from side effects was clearly noticeable, albeit slow. I jokingly introduced to friends and family my “side effect easing order wishlist”. Top of the list was mucositis, that’s for sure! Think of pain-free eating, speaking and yawning! Everything else —— sticky saliva, taste loss and all issues with my hair/skin/muscles —— could wait.
Yet, the body has its own repair schedule. It is not up to me to play the role of the foreman.
Week 3 post-RT, Tuesday. I’m absolutely sure about the date as it’s shockingly noteworthy.
I was going through my dental hygiene routine that morning. As I rinsed my mouth with water, I noticed something:
The water is plain! IT’S PLAIN!
How’s that possible!? It was still vividly salty the night before! It’s literally night and day —— in taste!
From then on, ice-cream wasn’t salty anymore, even if it tasted bland to me. Salty honey and granulated sugar vanished from my culinary world. The line between green tea and veggie broth was no longer blurred. And thank goodness, I could tell fresh water from saline!
I was gobsmacked that some taste buds recovered without any prior hint. Why didn’t the same magic happen to the sticky saliva? Why didn’t some oral ulcers heal just like that overnight?
Don’t ask, just believe —— believe in your body’s natural repair mechanisms.
Don’t ask, just wait —— wait for the healthy cells to catch up.
Don’t ask, just hope —— hope for the pain-free watershed moment.
So this is it; that Tuesday morning was the only pleasant surprise in my long winding road of recovery.