{"id":44757,"date":"2019-06-04T16:18:58","date_gmt":"2019-06-04T15:18:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.bmj.com\/bmj\/?p=44757"},"modified":"2019-06-13T08:51:19","modified_gmt":"2019-06-13T07:51:19","slug":"jo-taylor-its-time-to-call-time-on-the-end-of-treatment-bell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.bmj.com\/bmj\/2019\/06\/04\/jo-taylor-its-time-to-call-time-on-the-end-of-treatment-bell\/","title":{"rendered":"Jo Taylor: It’s time to call time on “The end of treatment bell”"},"content":{"rendered":"

I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in February 2007 and since then I have had many rounds of chemotherapy. I am currently attending a chemotherapy unit every three weeks. The treatment I am having is given intravenously through my portacath (a permanent indwelling IV line). I do experience side effects, but these are not as bad as I have experienced with previous treatment.<\/span><\/p>\n

Last week, a patient\u2019s relative thought that I was a \u201cnewby\u201d after someone helped me to get a paper towel to wipe up my spilt cup of tea. I was tethered, as usual to the IV, but was being lazy, not unplugging the monitor, and stretching to reach the paper towel which I failed to do, so she kindly helped. Normally I whizz around to the loo with ease after five years of training with the monitor I use it like a partner in a waltz (move over Strictly!). I overheard another patient next to her say \u201cshe\u2019s on her EIGHTY SEVENTH treatment!\u201d with the woman repeating \u201cEIGHTY SEVENTH???\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, it\u2019s not “normal” to have undergone so much treatment, and over so long, but increasingly \u00a0people have long term treatments for secondary breast cancer and some luckily and through new drugs and\/or surgeries outlive the 2-3 year median life expectancy. I\u2019m into my 5<\/span>th<\/span> cancerversary of secondary breast cancer. <\/span><\/p>\n

I sat as usual having my treatment, working, and talking to the nurses as they put the different drips up, saline, perjeta, saline, herceptin, saline. It takes time, but I am usually out of the unit in around 2.5 hours if I\u2019m lucky\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

It was the first time that I had been on this unit when three people had just finished their treatment. \u00a0I remember thinking it\u2019s a great feeling to finish after crossing off the dates of my six chemos 12 years ago. I remember thanking the nurses, bringing them in some treats and a card to say thank you, and saying: \u201cI don\u2019t want to ever see you again [in a nice way] haha\u201d to them.<\/span><\/p>\n

And then, there it was, <\/span>the end of treatment bell<\/span><\/a>.<\/span> It seems a modern-day phenomenon that everything has to be celebrated loudly and brashly. <\/span>I believe this new way of celebrating finishing chemotherapy arrived from the USA. <\/span>These bells are generally like a ships bell or a school bell. They are either mounted on the wall, usually with a rainbow to signify that patients are now at the end of the rainbow and have the pot of gold, i.e. health, recovery, and being \u201ccancer free.\u201d Or they are like a school bell that you pick up and ring. It is either bought by the hospital ward using donations or patients buy the bell as some people like them.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\ud83d\udd14\ud83d\udd1a pic.twitter.com\/k79jPs70Jp<\/a><\/p>\n

— Jo Taylor (@abcdiagnosis) May 15, 2019<\/a><\/p><\/blockquote>\n