Chapter 7 New Drugs, New Battles

Chemotherapy 4:
A New Drug - Docetaxel

Docetaxel came with a new schedule: still every three weeks, but now two hours per session instead of one. I had to take steroids the day before, and for two days after, plus the usual daily injections for a week to boost my bone marrow. I braced myself for more bone pain.

The side effects shifted:

Food tasted vile
My skin dried out
Hair loss continued
Nerve pain began in my fingertips and toes
My nails could even fall off

To try and protect my hands and feet, I was advised to wear cold mittens and slippers during treatment (bought online) - freezing things that needed gloves and socks underneath just to bear them.

As always with chemo, it was a case of:
“Let’s see what this one throws at me.”

A few days after treatment, I experienced the worst bone pain of my life. It was crippling. I was admitted to hospital for over two weeks while they tried to get it under control. That stay led, eventually, to a diagnosis of Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) - but that’s another story.

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Switching To Paclitaxel

A week after getting home, I saw my oncologist. She recommended switching to Paclitaxel, a lower-dose “cousin” drug administered weekly for six weeks. It builds up more slowly in the body and is easier to monitor.

It was still a strong cancer-fighter - but the longer timeline felt disheartening. Cancer loves to move the goalposts.

I told myself: time to rebuild strength and prepare for the next fight.

Chemo 5...

Or Should We Say, Chemo 5a?

New drug, new cycle… but starting over didn’t feel right. My husband dubbed it “Chemo 5, Part A.”

The night before, I broke down. My positivity failed me.
I was sick of being sick.
Sick of not being able to drive or plan toilet trips without a strategy.
Sick of relying on others.

I’d only just come out of hospital a week earlier. I needed to give myself a break. But I hit a wall - screaming, crying, throwing things. And there they were: my three anchors—husband, son, daughter - with arms open, holding me through it all.

That’s love, that is. I felt it.

I felt fragile. I begged the new drug:
“Paclitaxel, please let’s be friends.”

4 Days Later: Back In A&E

I had a temperature of 38.1°C - a chest infection.
So no, Paclitaxel and I were not friends.

Back to square one:
Nerve pain, bone pain, cramps, and another hospital stay.

Once again, we had questions. After speaking to my oncologist, we decided to give Paclitaxel another chance. It wasn’t the drug that sent me to hospital - it was pneumonia. I’d had a two-week break (one in hospital, one recovering). We’d try again.

If I reacted badly again, chemo would have to stop early.

A terrifying thought. I needed to finish this treatment.