Return to work - return to normality?

Not written for a few weeks - much has happened...

Since the last blog entry, I have finished radiotherapy. The last session didn't go well at all - nothing to do with the treatment but felt extremely low and quite stressed about other events taking place in my life. I recieved my last dose of radiation in tears that I was unable to wipe away as I had to lie still. When the treatment finished I spoke to the senior radiographer about my feelings and it was good to 'talk it all out' - I also felt reassured that a lot of people can also feel very emotional at this stage as this is the last daily input of clinical intervention which can leave some feeling quite isolated.

Several days after this I had a routine Echocardiogram appointment - this is an ultrasound of the heart to ensure the heart is functioning normally. I'm having 3 monthly Echo's as I have regular herceptin - which I have learnt is toxic to the heart! A week after the appointment I saw the oncologist who informed me that there has been quite a reduction in the heart's function. I must admit, I was quite surprised at this news and although this can be shocking in itself, I felt not too concerend going from my nursing knowledge and having an understanding of any implications. So, the oncologist and I liaised with future treatment options, agreeing to continue with the herceptin for now but to commence with a drug that would provide better control of the heart and to have a repeat Echo in 2 weeks. So far, all has been well with this new drug but induces the nastiest of headaches - sleeping normally eases this teamed with a couple of paracetemol!

Throughout all of this having major diy refurbishement to the living room and kitchen that has now lasted several weeks. I have donned old jeans and t-shirt and painted with emulsion and gloss - however the district nurse put her foot down when I said I would be sanding the ceiling and walls and insisted that I rest instead! So far both rooms look very different and I'm pleased with the results - but I'm now at a stage of wanting this to be over as soon as possible - especially as I feel this is also taking effect with the headaches I have.

Had an occupational health appointment at my work last week for a possible return to work. I arrived early, quite nervous, not sure what to expect. However any fears I had were dispelled immediately when the doctor commented that 'I look exceptionally well - was your operation earlier in the year?' When I said it was nearly 3 months ago she replied that she had seen many women go through this 'journey' and I was the exception to going back to work this early as I looked so very well!! After a brief chat, I was advised that I could resume work the following week on a phased return - over the next 8-10 weeks a gradual build up of full-time hours that started with 4 hours a day for 3 days a week for the next 2 weeks. To say I felt 10 feet tall when I left is an understatement! I immediately went onto the unit, spoke to my matorn and manager and booked my next lot of working hours. After a quick 'tour' of the unit to update myself from the many changes that had happened in my absence, I went home feeling completely exhilerated.

So, Monday - my first day back at work since this 'journey' began. Got there early, had a cuppa and went onto the unit. As my status will be supernumary for at least this week (extra staff and not taking on my own patient) I felt free to observe without committing to any clinical interventions until my confidence had built up. I felt very surprised though at just how much I had remembered - any doubts I previously had of being a nurse was dispelled. I also felt confident within the environment knowing my working expectations and limitations.

So far only had the one shift back at work - is normal life coming back? I certainly hope so as for as long as I can remember I'm not so sure what normal is anymore.

BREAST CANCER AWARENESS

A birth certificate shows you were born.
A death certificate shows you have died.
A photo album shows you have lived.  
Every month is Breast Cancer Awareness Month…….

Give this heart to everyone you don't want to
lose in '2011 including me if you care.

Try to collect 12, it's not easy!'Be kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.'
 



A sharp tongue can cut your own throat.


If you want your dreams to come true, you mustn't oversleep.


Of all the things you wear, your expression is the most important.


The best vitamin for making friends...... B1.


The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts.


One thing you can give and still keep...is your word.


You lie the loudest when you lie to yourself.



If you lack the courage to start, you have already finished.



One thing you can't recycle is wasted time.

Ideas won't work unless ' You' do.

Your mind is like a parachute...it functions only when open.

The 10 commandments are not a multiple choice.

 The pursuit of happiness is the chase of a lifetime!


 It is never too late to become what you might have been.

Life is too short to wake up with regrets.. So love
the people who treat you right.. Forget about the
ones who don't. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If
it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life
would be easy, they just promised it would be
worth it.

Friends are like balloons;
once you let them go, you might not get them
back. Sometimes we get so busy with our own
lives and problems that we may not even notice
that we've let them fly away. Sometimes we are so
caught up in who's right and who's wrong that we
forget what's right and wrong.. Sometimes we just
don't realize what real friendship means until it
is too late. I don't want to let that happen so
I'm going to tie you to my heart so I never lose you.
 


Send this to all your friends including me and see
how many you get back. Even send it to your
balloons that you think have flown away forever.
You may be surprised to see it return. Send this heart to everybody that
has touched your life in a positive way.

  
Thank you for being in my life!!!

Getting my life back

Its been a few weeks since I have blogged. In this time I have started and now nearly finished radiotherapy.This in itself has been ok - when you are having the treatment you lie very still in a set position whilst you are 'zapped' with radiation - this takes no more than 5-10 minutes. However when combined with a 2-hour travel there and back its no wonder why you get tired from this - especially as this has been every day weekdays for 3 weeks.

I feel in myself like I am resuming back to my old self - except that I have changed. Can't define how/what I have changed but things are different now. Friends I see ask how I'm doing - I say that I'm ok but what about those others who are not ok? What about those who are constantly struggling with their 'journey'. What about those who are left behind - or who have not survived? Then I feel guilty - guilty for getting through this so far and feeling ok. Don't know how to get past this - feel low from these and many, many other feelings I have.

So, sorry this has not been the most positive blog entry to read, which on the grand scheme of things should be good. As many of you know that this is a way I offload whats whirring away in my mind - be it good, bad or indifferent. But somehow in re-reading what I have written so far my mind doesn't feel so heavy....

Recovery

So now I'm exactly one month post op. Things are going well, really well. Perhaps a little too well as this last week I am completely over doing things every day - maybee this is because I am feeling so good and havn't felt this way in a long time. I can actually get through the day now without feeling nauseas, unwell and fatigued. A little tired and achy legs - but this is very do-able. The site from the op is looking good with minimal swelling. I have got good movement from my arm as I religiously do physio exercises daily. Things must be good when I forget to take my meds as I am not constantly reminded to take them due to pain/nausea etc. 

I got 'marked up' (permanent tattoos to mark the exact site for treatment) the other day for the start of radiotherapy - which is starting in a couple of weeks. I have been forwarned that the most common side-effect is tiredness - no change there then! I think this is also in the back of my mind which is another reason why I try to cram in as much as I can within each day.

I will have radiotherapy every weekday for 3 weeks when this starts whilst intravenous treatment continues for herceptin. Once radiotherapy is over I will have a 5-year course of daily tamoxifen tablets. As well as regular check-ups I finally feel that treatment is progressing well, and there is not only a light but a whole world out there at the end of my tunnel. I really can't believe how different I feel to just a few short weeks and months ago. Sometimes, despite all the proverbial that life throws at you (and believe me, we have had our fair share of it) to keep on going is the toughest thing in the world. But with a little encouragement and much soul-searching you come out the other end a better and stronger person. As so many people have previously told me that these adversities only happen to people who are stong enough to deal with them.


RIP - Hugh. I only met you a few times, but you will be remembered.

My wish and hope is for more research and finance to be able to find a permanent cure as this disease is affecting too many innocent victims and their families.

Phase 2 - OVER! (Part 2)

(Continuation from Phase 2-OVER! (Part 1)

The next few days in hospital I noticed an accumulation of fluid not only at the mastectomy site, but swollen on my abdomen, lower tummy and even groin - it looked like I had literally doubled in size. I informed the Ward Sister and consequently saw a doctor - who reassured me that although this was no emergency I would see the same locum doctor who would assess me further after the weekend. On the Monday afternoon this doctor assessed me, and as the swelling had not gone down, requested to aspirate the area once again (withdraw fluid). During a morning visit from the pain nurse it was discussed if this procedure was to be performed again I would have access to morphine and entonox (gas & air), and so informing the pain nurse of the oncoming procedure all drugs to be used was prepared and ready to go.  Ahh yes, I remember you entonox - a familiar feeling to this pain control as I was able to fully relax. Only 50mls was withdrawn and I was now feeling extremely sore by this stage. It was agreed that I would see the surgeon in clinic within a few days and informed that despite the extensive amount of bruising and large swelling that all was ok. I didn't feel like all was ok though. It was previously agreed that I could go home after this procedure as I was medically stable but advised to spend another night in hospital due to the procedure and drugs given. I accepted the offer of another night's stay - after all I was in good company with my friends being nursing staff! On the positive side I did get to meet the prosthesis lady - and after an awkward introduction got on really well. I learned that only soft padding was used until the tissue had healed enough to allow a special made prosthesis and bra to be used - which will take about 6 weeks. Feeling much better about this, I set to look at the numerous leaflets and booklets left to furnish me with further information and advice.

I was discharged the following day. I found saying goodbye to the staff on the ward hard and fighting back the tears gave them all a hug. It felt good to finally be free. But my mind was far away from going home - instead hubby and I made our way to a comfy pub! I sat down in the cosy couch, cuddled up with hubby and a bottle of cider - only this was making me quite tired and sleepy. An hour and a half later and still clutching the same bottle hubby drank the last of my cider and we went home. As I found I couldn't hold my eyes open I went straight upstairs to bed where I slept for most of the afternoon. That evening and onwards was the start of my rehabilitation. Or so I thought. My husband had previously arranged the rest of the week off from work in order to help out. As I had seen enough of my house over the last 6 months the rest of that week was spent meandering around different shopping towns, going for coffee and just enjoying my husband's company. Only the first day of doing this I knew I had overdone things and found the swelling to be bigger and more painful.
As days wore on the original bruising from the lowest point had now spread to the groin and top of my legs - gravity had taken over.

Later that week I saw the surgeon in clinic. The results from the op was in - good news. Firstly, all of the remaining 16 lymph nodes that was removed none showed no evidence of cancerous cells - the cancer had no further spread. Secondly, the tumour that grew to 2.5 cm was reduced to 9 mm-showing that chemo had been extremely effective.  So then, extremely good news. As by this stage I was quite concerned about the extensive swelling that was showing no signs of reducing in size, I discussed this with the surgeon. I was told - quite nonchalantly- that all is ok, the swelling is 'quite normal' and that he is sorry that other staff have made me anxious. This surgeon offered to aspirate the area again - and in doing so was unable to withdraw any fluid from the site. I was told that the swelling had formed a 'blackcurrant jelly' substance which was why fluid was not forthcoming and the swelling would eventually reduce.  Despite his best efforts, I was not reassured that nothing was wrong. Especially when the swelling felt like I was carrying 2 large bricks around my chest - tight, heavy and extremely uncomfortable.

The weekend was good - catching up with lots of family members with bbq's and lots of fun times. The following week my mum came over to help out as hubby returned back to work. Each day I tried hard to get myself back to normality - completing physio exercises that was given and taking things very easy. However I could not shake off the feeling that something was still not quite right about the swelling. I had my first radiotherapy appointment at a different hospital yesterday in order to assess the area and to mark out the relevant spots for the oncoming treatment starting in a few weeks. I was called into the room and showing the radiographer the swelling from the mastectomy all treatment was then stopped as the swelling had made it impossible for any treatment to continue. The staff apologised profusely, saying they will ask one of their own doctors to assess the swelling and await for further advice. After a 20 minute wait I was seen by a different doctor who asked lots of different questions and then examined the bruising and mastectomy site. It became clear he was concerned about the amount of swelling I had. Then came a clue to what was going on - I was asked if all previous withdrawals of fluid was guided by ultrasound or 'gone in blindly?' To which I answered that I have not had an ultrasound at all post op - leaving me to now believe that all attempted aspirations was not successful due to no attempt made to see beyond the superficial layer of skin - and should have been looked at to find out where the fluid was actually accumulating inside the tissue layers.  With this information, the doctor made me an urgent appointment for the breast unit the same day for further examination under ultrasound. As this appointment was 2pm, hubby and I set off to have lunch and a sit in the sun!

2.20pm I was called in to see the radiographer. The entire area was closely examined under ultrasound. The doctor and senior radiographer was called in and discussed with myself and hubby that indeed there was an extensive collection of fluid around the lateral chest wall. A suggestion was made to aspirate with local anaesthetic. I felt very glad to hear this as suddenly I didn’t feel the hypochondriac I had been made to feel over the last 2 weeks. So, as the area was numbed completely, 60ml syringes were being passed over to the radiographer. As the staff was talking to me (distraction) I was aware more and more syringes were being used. I checked to make sure hubby was ok and still conscious! and finally the procedure was over.  It was then I was informed that 11 syringes had been used to withdraw the fluid and a whooping 720 ml of serous fluid had been removed from the mastectomy site. 720 ml! As I stood up it felt like I didn’t have bricks plastered to my chest anymore and, in fact, I felt fairly normal with a small amount of swelling. The radiographer warned it would be normal if the swelling returned, if so to call the hospital and an immediate appointment would be made to ensure this fluid is removed. The radiographer also stated that she was surprised she didn’t get a call from the surgeon or his team to perform this procedure. So, what I thought might be a waste of time appointment turned out to be very productive and effective time spent. I now feel that I have been completely fobbed off by my surgeon when it was clear that all was not normal at all. I also feel angry that this hospital has had to mop up the original hospital’s evident cock-up. WHEN are things going to run smoothly for me? In this sorry state of affairs, things have been bad from start to finish. For this reason and the other cock-up of the tumour spreading that I am now going to start pursuing a complaint and compensation claim – especially as this is now going affect my rehabilitation resulting in a delay to return to work.

So, to try and get a little respite from all of this we are going to enjoy seeing my extended family. I know there are corrupt organisations out there – but I don’t feel that the care I have received has been corrupt, just lazy and opinionated. This has to change – and if it takes me to complain to prevent others going through this same bad journey that I have, then so be it.  

Phase 2 - OVER! (Part 1)

So now, 2 weeks post op. Feeling much better, but I also feel like something is not quite right. To explain...

The op itself went well. The previous evening enjoyed the last night by going to bed at 3am, and by the time I got to bed had around 4 hours sleep! Got to the hospital around 11am as requested after saying my goodbyes to my children - this all felt very surreal. I was trying hard not to let my anxiety turn into tears - which I also was aware my husband was struggling to fight back the tears too. Once we was escorted to my bed space, the nurse and team completed all the necessary paperwork. The op itself was at 1.30pm, and as my husband was allowed to stay with me until I went in, we both tried hard to keep the conversation light to pass the time quickly. I felt grateful at this stage I previously had minimal sleep - as I was feeling quite tired this took away any anxiety. At half one precisely, staff assisted me to theatres, and I said my goodbyes to my husband. Minor adjustments was made by the nurses as I lay on the table, and the anaesthetist gave me her 'special medicine' - I was out for the count. I woke up briefly in recovery, took a few sips of water and went straight back to sleep. I woke again as I was being taken back to the ward and I felt very pleased - I knew the op was over and was happy I was not in any pain or discomfort. After drifting contineously in and out of sleep I saw my husband and children as it was visiting time. I was aware that during the middle of conversation I would drift off to sleep and wake up again - but I couldn't control this at all (my hubby found this most amusing!) When visiting was over I settled in for the night and had a chat with my nurse and previous colleague. I still felt good as I had minimal pain and swelling - I also felt pleased as I remembered info from being a student for effective use of my pca - a controlled morphine pump for pain relief! After a comfortable night, the ward sister informed me that I was going to be transferred to another ward - and then assessed the wound. Although she spoke of slight swelling around the back, I didn't feel anything untoward and was happy to be transferred to the ward where I had previously worked as a health care assistant as well as a student for many years. As I packed my stuff ready for the move I was aware no-one had spoken to me about a prosthesis and I raised this with the Sister (at the previous pre-op assessment I was informed I would see by a lady who specialises in prosthesis and bra-fitting for mastectomy ladies). An hour later Sister came back saying this person wasn't around - with this I felt quite upset as I didn't want to be discharged without this in place which would make me feel extremely unwomanly, self-conscious and low - especially as I hadn't wanted the mastectomy only in the first place. This was rectified by the Sister obtaining a 'softie' for the mastectomy site, and although this made me feel a little better I still felt as if I had been somehow overlooked and forgotten.

From the moment I arrived on the ward until the time I went home, I was made to feel very special, having excellent nursing care and attention - I knew most members of staff well and had kept in-touch with them. Within 5 minutes of being on the ward I had my own private room, belongings taken care of, cards and presents nicely displayed, bed sheets drawn back, pillows plumped, a cup of tea and a box of chocolates thrust into my hand!! I would like to say a huge thanks to all staff involved in my care - you guys really did help me during what turned out to be a difficult time. However, within a couple of hours this lovely experience turned to sour grapes - I was assessed by the locum doctor who decided I needed fluid to be withdrawn by needle and syringe as by now I had a rather large build-up of fluid around the mastectomy site. I agreed to this as the area was completely numb so was unable to feel anything. Everything was set up and with a nurse assisting the doctor removed 360ml of fluid around the chest wall. As the doctor was trying to remove more fluid by 'milking' around the chest and side I suddenly felt quite sick - I notified the nurse, then I felt very 'heady' - again I told the nurse. All I can remember then is being flat on the bed with my legs positioned in the air with oxygen delivered via a nasal canulae - I had lost consciousness for apparently 30 seconds! Quite why this happened I still do not know. A short while later the doctor continued, but as no fluid was forthcoming, stopped the procedure and called upon the ward staff to take me to x-ray to confirm I did not have a pneumothorax (collapsed lung) from this - upon hearing this I almost lost the plot! But after having 2 x-rays, the staff confirmed that I did not have a pneumothorax. Breath of relief here then! The chest area had been dressed with a compression bandage - so as well as the swelling I had bulky and tight padding. Teamed with the procedure I was left feeling sore, swollen and extremely uncomfortable. I noticed bruising from the mastectomy, which I expected, but I also had extensive bruising around the front of the shoulder, chest, side and stomach. I was left feeling quite literally battered and bruised.

This blog entry is continued on Phase 2-OVER! (Part 2)

Phase 1 - OVER!

Well, I'm updating this blog at 6.30 in the morning of an extremely surreal day before. Let me explain...

The last round of chemo was due yesterday. I went through the usual build up to chemo by feeling quite low, with my legs extremely sore and achy and still not able to move well - climbing a flight of stairs completely wiped me out. In fact I saw the GP on recommendation of the chemo nurses who consequently wasn't able to help and saying this was just a side effect of the chemo. Great - I was left feeling extremely swollen all over, gained weight all over my body due to the steroids that I was taking and having tree-trunks for legs. So, perhaps one can understand my apprehension for going to the last chemo session - in particular on Thursday night by managing to hang out the last evening before chemo by going to bed as late as possible - 3.00am!

Anyway, we got to the hospital (hubby and I!) for the usual time Friday morning. Got called in to see the consultant, and after waiting for a while nothing quite prepared us for the news that was about to be delivered - after briefly chatting with the consultant he had decided to stop the chemo from going ahead. I amost did a double take, saying something stupid like "what, really - are you sure?" Although I was obviously pleased this was the recommendation I also did not want to jepordise complete recovery from this horrible disease. The consultant explained that as I have reacted quite significantly to the last 2 rounds of chemo with hospital admissions on each one that any benefits the chemo had was outweighing the side-effects I was going through. I sat there and just listened to this - immediate relief flooded in but I couldn't completely grasp that I wasn't going to have any more chemo - in particular as I had been preparing myself during the week (as I normally do) for the next chemo cycle, and having experienced so many nasty side-effects was also mentally preparing for the next hospital admission as I have felt so unwell in the past. So, having prepared so much for what would have been the last round of chemo has strangely taking a long time to accept that I now will not have to go through this anymore. I do, however still have to get over the swelling and problems this has caused my legs.

Then came the next out-of-the-blue news - as the chemo has been stopped this meant that the operation date for the mastectomy and removal of all lymph nodes in the axilla was to be bought forward - possibly for Thursday next week! I was happy with this suggestion as I just wanted all treatments to be over as soon as possible. To have this confirmed the lead nurse made the appropriate phone calls and did all the pre-admission checks there and then and informed me that she will call me later in the day to confirm the op for Thursday. During this time I was having the usual 3-weekly herceptin intravenous treatments as, although the chemo has stopped the herceptin will continue as the side-effects from this drug are minimal- that is compared to chemo. So, leaving the hospital became quite a surreal feeling with neither of us not quite knowing what to expect - or prepare for.

Well, what better way to 'celebrate' the end of chemo than visiting the nearest watering house!! As I have not touched alcohol since being informed that I would need to have chemo I thought this was long overdue - and so chatting with hubby about the oncoming weeks enjoyed my first tipple. It was then I had the phonecall from the hospital to confirm the op for Thursday. All plans were set to go. Still trying to come to terms with no chemo, it was equally as difficult coming to terms that the next focus was a major op. Both myself and husband have discussed this quite extensively at the beginning of all of this so we already are aware of the factors involved. But this doesn't take away the new feeling of reality hitting - hard. I am very aware of my husband's concerns - how will I feel once the op is over knowing that I will have one breast completely removed and to be padded out with a prothesis? At this stage if I'm honest I do think I will struggle slightly with this, but also knowing that the tumour has been completely removed will hopefully keep me on the level. And this is only temporary - for when the time is right (recommendations between 12-18 months) I would probably opt for a breast reconstruction - for me this will make me feel more 'womanly' again, although I am also aware my hubby will not see or treat me as anything different despite what happens.

As for today and the rest of this weekend - my purpose is to enjoy these last few days before Thursday - where afterwards recovery will take some weeks that will leave my shoulder, arm and chest sore and uncomfortable but (I have been told) pain can be kept at bay by strong painkillers. I think of this op as not having the same consequences as chemo did, however also aware this is permanent - but with good reason.  It does feel like my life is starting to get back on track, as the chemo has been very demanding and tough that has required all my efforts in getting better on each successive cycle. I wonder now how I will feel about life after the op - nothing will please me more to get back to my old self but I have changed - and am going to change both physically and mentally over the oncoming week. Still not sure how to feel or what to expect. As the saying goes time will tell... And, of course, when things do change or I feel in the need to offload - guess what? - you know I'll be blogging again!!!

Chemo - ooh bloody chemo!

I know it has been some since my last post - indeed it feels like months have passed since my last entry. However this lack of writing is not bourne out of I can't be bothered attitude or lack of interest, but due to me being in hospital twice in-so-much as many chemo rounds.

On my 4th chemo cycle the drugs used was changed to docetaxel - with a whole host of different side effects. I can't really remember too much about this round other than a few days after the chemo session I had severe constipation, abdominal cramps, big aches and pains in my shoulder, neck, back and legs and nausea. After several attempts of speaking to GP's and Nurses, I was taking 3 different laxatives without any success. (By this stage my stomach was so huge I looked 8 months pregnant!) In an attempt to get things moving we went shopping, despite me feeling quite weak and dizzy. By the time we got home and had dinner, I was shivering uncontrollably despite the many clothing layers I was wearing. Alarm bells began to slowly ring - I took my temperature to find it was sky-high at 38.2 degrees. At this point I knew that a hospital stay was inevitable - as at anytime whilst on this chemo reigeme I was to call the hospital if my temperature went above 38 degrees. So, with an overnight bag we went to the medical assessment unit as directed.

After seeing the doctor (and by this stage feeling extremely unwell) I was diagnosed with neutropenic sepsis - extremely low white blood cell count with a bacterial infection in the bloodstream (blood test proved I was running at only 15% of my body's immune defence system). As it was 11 o'clock at night, I said goodbye to the family and settled in for the night - only sleep was virtually impossible as the nurses striped off all bedcovers apart from a sheet and put on a fan in an attempt to fight the fever. I was literally shivering so much from being so exposed but felt red hot wherever I lay on the bed. Each hour passed by very slowly with the nurses periodically checking my temperature - which refused to come down, instead increased to 38.8 for most of the night. However by around 7.30am the temperature dropped to 37.5 - and I felt pleased to be able to finally switch off that dammed fan!! A couple of days later I was moved to the ward and had a PICC line inserted into my upper arm - this will allow future intravenous access (drip) without the need for more needles. Although this procedure was quite painful, this is a one-off that will last until no longer required and prevents any more damage to my hand/veins from the delivery of chemo or drugs. I was in hospital for one week, that ended with me pleading with the doctors to let me go home.

I had only 2 days where I felt ok-ish until the 5th cycle of chemo was due. Feeling like I'd rather be anywhere other that that chemo session, I did feel slightly better knowing that I was now aware of all the likley side-effects from the chemo, and felt better prepared. I spoke with the oncologist about all the problems of last time and was reassured with all the drugs he was prepared to prescribe to me to prevent any future episodes in hospital, including a 5-day course of injections to boost my white blood cells. As my breast cancer is hormone positive (as discussed with the consultant/chemo nurse at the beginning) I am also to recieve a years treatment of herceptin. Initially I thought these was drugs taken by mouth for a year but I learnt that this drug was delivered the same as the chemo - through an intravenous drip once every 3 weeks. At this stage I felt so very grateful for having the PICC line. My first herceptin was to be delivered a few days after the 5th chemo round. I duly went to this session, had an echocardiogram (scan of the heart) - as this drug can interfere in the way the heart works and then waited for 6 hours for observation in case of a reaction to the drug. All was ok, if a little boring. The following day I was feeling all the side-effects I had from the previous round of chemo including aches, pains, nausea but thankfully no constipation, instead diarrhoea. It was difficult to establish wether this was from chemo or herceptin as the side-effects are identical. I only really felt comfortable lying on my bed and thought I needed to pick myself up as I was also feeling quite low and tearful. My hands and feet were numb with cold and I was shivering - as I wrapped myself up further I had that sinking feeling - no, not again. I took my temperature -  37.9. DAMM! I rang the hospital and they wanted me to go in immediately. Waiting for my husband to come back from work I prepared my overnight bag. Why? Why does this keep happening to me? I had taken all the drugs I was meant to take, doing all the things I was suppposed to do. But I was feeling too rough to work out any of the answers. Got to the hospital an hour later, seen by the chemo nurses who took my temperature - 39.1 degrees. Well, I suppose I don't do things by half! I was transferred to the medical assessment unit - again - and spent a futher night of being stripped of any bedding, shivering, feeling hot and the return of that fan. Over the next few days, things had stabalised, returned to normal and I was allowed to go home.

Been home for a few days now. Today was the first day I spent time on my own for a long time. I still feel low but perhaps that isn't surprising. I can't walk that far or climb the stairs without pain due to the intense aches and pains in my upper and lower legs - it feels like both my legs are made of lead and are quite swollen and tight and so I can't move or walk very well. My mouth has ulcers, although these are getting better now and I still feel nauseas. I have lost most of my taste and still feel achy in my shoulders/arms/back. My fingers and fingertips feel sore. Bloody Chemo! On the plus side I have noticed a few days ago new hair growth - my scalp was fairly smooth that recently went to stubbly but now looks fuzzy.

I don't know how the next few days will pan out but I do know that I have only one chemo round left. One chemo round. Still two lots of side effects but one chemo round. Thats whats going round my head right now.
 I am doing everything to stop my legs hurting as it is very frustrating feeling ok-ish but can't do anything as I can't walk anywhere without pain. Life has literally become day-to-day living as I just never know how I will feel from one day to the next. I just hope no more hospital admissions. A huge thank-you to all my friends who have supported me throughout all of this, and, of course, to my family. I just hope one day I will be fit enough to be able to return the favour.

Half Way

So, I'm now half-way through having all this chemo. Suppose I ought to feel positive, especially as the tumor has significantly shrunk. But I have reserved feelings on this. At the moment chemo equals life-in-hell.

Had the last cycle over a week ago, the last round of the drugs that (as I understand) are quite toxic, irritant with lots of nausea that almost comes as a guaranteed side-effect. As the nurse was administering this particular drug, my hand and lower arm where the cannula was sited felt extremely painful. Nausea hit amost immediately so I was given a break at this point with screens being drawn around me. I was aware that there was 2 large syringe-fulls left of this drug yet to be administered - at this pont I felt helpless and on the verge of refusing any more of this sheer hell - but knew there was no other alternative. Ever felt trapped??

From this and over the last 9 days or so the nausea and pain in my arm has been a constant problem. Looking back the amount of nausea I have had seems to get worse from each cycle, perhaps this is due to the build-up of drugs given? The last few days have been unbearable with me gagging at each wave of nausea and for the first time I threw up. Contacted the emergency doctor over the weekend as I was no longer coping - thankfully got a repeat prescription of strong anti-sickness drugs (plus a mild laxative as these drugs have a nice habit of making me constipated.) Today is the first day I have felt out of the woods,  but consequently having to take an absolutely huge amount of drugs.

Despite all of this, have used gardening and re-jigging the house as a focus to take my mind off things. I am very proud to say that I have a whole host of vegetables now growing in a pretty good-looking garden as well as our chill-out 'Zen' room and hallway - our house now looks fab! My aunt who spent a couple of days with me last week has been a fantasic support - and great at cleaning the house!!   

The next chemo cycle the drugs are changing - I have been told the most common side-effects are joint pain, feeling grotty and a sensation of walking on sponge (affects bone density) - and nausea - albeit minimal.  So, although the previous drugs are no longer, its still really hard to be positive. Every chemo trip to the hospital feels like walking into eventual hell - really don't want to continue with this. Hey - if anyone wants to swap places with me (even for one day) then I'd only be too happy to oblige. No, ooh bugger!! x

Life so far...

I havn't blogged for some time now - that I am very aware. But after bumping into a friend today who gave me a bit of a telling off saying she had been waiting for some time for the latest installment as the blog is better than Eastenders I thought I'd better get into action!

Life has been extremely up and down. I have chemo once every 3 weeks - and for the first 5-7 days after chemo I experience bouts of nausea, agitation, extreme tiredness, very dry mouth, headaches, and feeling not being able to function well at all. So far I have had 2 sessions of chemo (called cycles) with my third cycle due this coming Friday. During the rest of the time I slowly return to normality, and generally the third week prior to the next cycle I feel completely ok. It is during this time I feel at my best, able to cope with most things so have taken to studying extensively and completing my nursing workbooks, housework, cooking and gardening - and as I feel ok seem to completely overdo things! As I feel good and well the last weekend prior to the next cycle, the family plan fun days out - we went to Alton Towers Friday last week and although it was a very long day we all had a superb time - (had to tie my head scarf on very tightly when we went on Rita - those who have experienced the ride will know what I mean!)

Whilst out and about today I came across a very old friend - after one look confirmed that she also was going through the same journey, albeit a different diagnosis that still encompassed chemo. After talking with my friend for a few minutes I found myself in uncontrollable floods of tears - how many more of us are out there having no choice but to go through invasive and quite frankly wouldn't-normally-touch-it-with-a-bargepole treatments that results in very nasty and lasting side-effects?  I feel angry that this is effecting too many good people. My friend did make me laugh though when others had told her to 'enjoy and be positive with your journey' - to which she retorted thanks, but you can leave your journey, I'd rather not go anywhere!

After going for that wig fitting a few weeks ago I now own my own wig - to the cost of £61.50 plus £14.00 for excessories. Have worn it a few times around town but after no-one recognises me (short stylish 2-tone bob style - completely different to my old hair style) so have taken to wearing my headscarf. So, if anyone spots a woman in a complete daze being not quite one hundred percent with a short-bob hair around town - please stop me and say hello!!

In There Somewhere

Well, thats how I feel - in there somewhere. After the second round of chemotherapy I feel as I am just existing - not really living. Think thats more to do with the anti-sickness drugs I have been given as they are making me feel extremely drowsy and out-of-sorts. Just feel nothing really. No 'what shall I do today', no real conversation, just time to get up, time for lunch/dinner etc. I am not going to take my evening anti-sickness drug which really does knock me out (which I can take as and when required) to see if I can buck myself up a little tomorrow - so we'll wait and see. Also have a cracking headache - perhaps tension from kids being off from half term?

Going for a wig fitting tomorrow - after saying 'no' initially. Changed my mind however when I saw ladies undergoing chemo with what I thought was a full head of hair! Don't know what to expect so I'll take things as they come. Will be quite welcome as my hair was falling out fast - thought I could cope with this gradual hair loss until complete baldness but after seeing patches of baldness knew I couldn't continue with this so got the other half to shave off the remaining hair. Was a decision not taken lightly. But I feel immensly better for it - stopped my scalp feeling extremely sore as well as the loose hair continually itching and falling around my shoulders.  Feeling quite low at the moment so hopefully tomorrow will be a better day - and being able to obtain a full head of hair!

Hair

From my last blog entry things pretty much seem to have been quite positive. I have seen friends, studied, pottered around the house and even attended a zumba exercise class with my friend, which I was only able to do half the exercises due to my limbs feeling quite tired but I thoroughly enjoyed the music - I could even shut my eyes and pretend I was abroad! I met with my friend in the afternoon of that day and felt so good when I got home I threw myself into gardening - BIG mistake. That evening I knew I had overdone things and very rapidly developed a sore throat and a heavy cold. Seems I havn't yet learnt to relax and take things easy - but I certainly will now - I didn't sleep well from feeling so bunged up that breathing was difficult and made my 'good' days not-so-good. Rested and relaxed as much as I possibly could as a trip to Thorpe Park had been planned if I was ok and the weather good. This did indeed go-ahead and being very cautions and practible in what I wore as well as using sun-cream on exposed skin, the family and I had a thoroughly enjoyable day - all of us was tucked up in bed by 9.30pm as we was all completely wiped out by the days activities!

It was around late last week I had noticed a few loose hairs from either combing or washing my hair - as I had read from other websites hair loss from chemo started around 2 weeks, I became observant of my own hair from this point. Sunday had a few more loose hairs from styling. But nothing really prepared me for what I saw on my pillow Monday morning - lots of hairs all over the sheets and pillows. I stared at these hairs in the dark at first - and knew there was lots of hair there, then pulled the curtains down and just cried. I knew hair loss was inevitable - I even got my hair cut short in preparation for this - but even so I am still finding this incredibly hard to deal with and very distressing. Each day there is more and more hair loss - and I am now using chemo caps/hats at night and during the day to prevent these loose hairs just falling out as I cannot cope with this - at the slightest touch the hair just falls out. The loss so far has been quite even and not in patches and I am aware that perhaps this is a good sign as it means the chemo is actually working in my body. But it doesn't feel good when I see and feel the loose hair wherever I go. My scalp is also quite sore all over - don't know why but will raise this if this continues with the chemo nurses when I have my next chemo session - this Friday.

Therefore, having experienced one round of chemo, I really hope that the next round will be a lot smoother - after all the side-effects have subsided and by then complete hair loss, I would like to be able to have good days without having to deal with any other issues other than relaxing/resting (which I am not the best at.) Maybee then I will be able to find this journey a little easier to deal with.

Progress

It has to be said that I think that progress is being made. Since writing the last entry there has been good days - and bad days. Days where it felt like time was just stretching before me, not doing anything nor going anywhere. Feelings of what do I do with myself today or mostly,  I'm feeling very odd and really unsure about how I feel - is this normal? has been quite common teamed with some very low points. I think this was most of my Friday and Saturday - which got better with seeing my work colleagues, family and spending quality time with a very good friend Saturday evening. Sunday was very odd indeed, with both and Ian not feeling ourselves at all - despite me not experiencing any side-effects from the chemo.

However - Monday was a complete turn-around with me seeing my friend for coffee, chatting to mum on the phone and for the first time in a long time carefully attempted exercise - which I normally thrive on for as this is a good mental uplift as well as having physical benefits. This left me completely exhausted but I felt
exhilarated and pleased with myself. These positive feeling continued today (Tuesday) - and grew as I had arranged to spend 3 hours at my work attending a training session. I don't think I have been so pleased to set foot into a hospital environment - shame I don't have the same feelings when attending my treatment sessions! I sat through this session taking on-board information that hopefully I will be able to retain and use in the future - and at the same time amazed myself with my previous knowledge that I was able to recall and put this together with the new info and actually made sense of it all - especially as this training session was aimed at experienced nurses who have been in the environment for 2-3 years. Came home and having the fire re-started of nursing set to my workbooks with much enthusiasm. I have started to plan the rest of this week as I feel that certainly most of the side-effects from chemo has now left - all apart from this continuing thirst every night. For any of you who might be experiencing the same journey I have tried drinking isotonic drinks during the night - which does seem to reduce the need of fluid - an indication of the body needing the additional electrolyes this drink offers that water does not.  

I can now recognise a pattern developing for the on-coming months of chemo of the side-effects, good days and bad days and I feel better equipped at dealing with this for when the next round of chemo is due. I think this round of chemo hit me hard as this was something I did not plan for but had mentally prepared myself for the surgery. However, now I know what to expect I also know how to deal with it. When the good days are good - as it has been for me today - it is very good. As expected when the bad days are bad - it seems as this never ends.  I am extremely grateful for all my friends and family who have come up trumps with the never-ending support. It is also during these times the bad days are kept to a minimum. Again, for those experiencing this journey - having a support network really is extremely important as this helps not just you but each member of the family who is directly affected by what you are going through giving then the strength and courage to keep going.  I know that my current positive and upbeat feeling will not last as the next round of chemo is always looming around the corner but just knowing how to get through these dark days should keep the not-so-nice parts at bay and in perspective.

So - until I need another rant - sorry blog entry - will write again soon!

Proud of Myself?

Well, this is day 6 of the first round of chemotherapy. Stright after writing the last blog entry and commenting on how good I was feeling 4 hours post chemo, I started to feel immensly nauseas. This continued into the afternoon and evening with the nausea getting worse. Typical - as I had previously reported on how well I was doing. Can't really remember much more of that Friday other than taking my anti-sickness drugs as instructed. Saturday went shopping late morning as was feeling slightly easier but spent minimal time out as didn't want to push things, especially as the nausea feeling was off and on. I spent the afternoon indoors feeling very nauseas and irritable - as if I couldn't settle into anything, even just sitting was an effort. Didn't have much to eat that day as the foods I did want to eat just couldn't seem to eat when it came to it. Also didn't sleep at all - just at the point of sleep I would wake up with an extremely dry mouth, drink an unsurmountable amount of water, got up to refill my cup and went to the loo, sleep was simply not achieveable. In the morning I got up with a banging headache, so aware of the infection risk to my system took my temperature and had 2 paracetemol as temp was ok. Sunday was worse, in particular as having no sleep, headache and very nauseas. I also felt that the anti-sickness drugs I was given by the hospital was actually bringing on the nausea so omitted these drugs from the evening dose. It was on this day that I felt as I wasn't coping with anything at all, so called my mum as she had previously offered to come over and help out if needed. I realised by this stage that perhaps ommitting anti-emetics wasn't the wisest of decisions and made allowances within eating foods to make up for this. So, Sunday evening mum was there, and as I was feeling pretty rough I was grateful for this. I now think that day 2 post chemo will be my worst day.

Monday was slightly better - achieved better sleep but still had an unbearably dry mouth overnight. Woke up twice during the night with another banging headache that was controlled by paracetemol. I called the hospital to ensure the anti-sickness drugs I was given was the most effective - I was assured this was and so accepted this more graciously. Had a sleep in the afternoon and went to bed early - too early as during this night I didn't have much sleep at all - perhaps as I previously had too much sleep? Nausea continued but at a markedly less degree and tried to build a routine in the taking of my anti-emetic drugs. Tuesday continued to feel better in myself and felt less agitated - I even got out my nursing workbooks that had been passed onto me from work in order to continue with my skills and I was surprised on how elated I felt that I was able to successfully complete a section of this! That evening felt the best I have felt since chemo started - laughing, joking, even muching on favourite foods - hey - this is normality - but for how long??

Wedensday continued with feeling on the up with less nausea - and an established drug routine. Had a bag of chips from the fish and chip shop which I have not done for years. Wednesday evening mum went home as I was feeling considerably better but I was also aware mum would be over again if I felt bad or - which is more likely - during the first few days on the next round of chemo. Felt tearful at this point - mum had got me over my worst point but was also good company too, but knew that I would see her again. Had another restless night - waking up every 15-20 mins with a completely dry mouth but prevented another headache by taking paracetemol on the onset of this headache early morning. I have started taking a bottle of giger ale up to bed with me as this helps ease any sickenss as well as providing something different to drink from water.

So, Thursday now - got up mid-morning, breakfasted ok, pottered around the house, spoke to hubby on the phone, even hoovered around the house (carefully and slowly!), chatted to friends who are coming over to see me (with cake! - very welcome!!!) hung the washing out, spoke to mum on the phone and even blogged - I think so far a very good day indeed.

Proud of Myself? - I think that with what I have had to encounter so far the answer is yes. However, as I am most aware of my current feelings is always set to change.

Treatment Starts!!

Well, D-day has arrived! After a disturbed nights sleep (didn't expect much sleep) went into hospital for the first of my chemo treatments. My children had a fund-raising day at school dressing in 60's costumes - so my boys dressed as a hippy and the momma from Hairspray - complete with my girly glitzy top, balloons for boobs, make-up and jewellery!! Laughed all the way to and during the treatment session at the hospital, in fact this did a great deal of keeping my mind positive and focused during what could have otherwise been a very difficult time. Was escorted to a room and the nurses filled in the relevant paperwork. I was given a bowl of warm water to put my hands in to encourage the veins to dilate for easier cannulation. When the nurse came in with a tray of needles and drugs I glanced at Ian asking whether it was time he got some breakfast - as I was aware he was none too keen of any procedures involving needles he took this quick exit quite literally - wusse! After the first cannulae was unsuccessful I then too began to fee like a complete wusse as I needed to lie semi-reclined in the chair and be distracted to site the cannulae - which was successful almost immediately!!

I was given a steriod infusion to prevent any nausea, inflammation or other unwanted side-effects. Then whilst the chemo drugs were being delivered other paperwork and information was completed by the nurse and student. It was at this point a different oncologist came into the room whom I had not previously met. To say he was completely on my side as to how badly I had been treated was an understatement - in particular as he thought that a situation was "bollocks" and he had highlighted my case to the Chief Executive of the hospital. I think I might just like this new professional who had been bought on-board!! After all the chemo drugs had been given (took in total around 2 hours) I was free to go home. Have only had a few slight readctions to these drugs - pink wee (which was immediate!), slight drawing sensation around the cheekbones, metallic taste and now a bearable headache. Apart from that I feel completely fine - would love to enjoy the sunshine of the day but the drugs can make the skin photosensitive so no direct sunlight. I have to say that Ian and myself have felt this experience has been extremely positive for both of us - and we feel this was mainly due to the staff who are experts at making you feel at ease, comfortable, involving Ian in any procedures he wanted to be involved in (not including the needles bit, of course!) and had us rolling up in laughter to the point where I had a tear from laughing so much.

So, 4 hours after the drugs have been given I don't feel so bad at all. I still thank my lovley husband for being so very caring and attentive - I've still yet to get that bell I've threatened him with for my every beckon call!!! I am also aware these side effects will slowly but surely take on more effect and by day 5-7 things won't be as great but I have a whole host of medicines the nurses gave me to combat this. Unfortunately nothing will be able to combat the very low immune system and hair loss/fatigue but I have accepted this to be an overall part of the treatment. So, hoping things don't go downhill too rapidly, here's to a unexpected and great start to this chemo.

Does anyone listen to me??

Lots to write on this entry with little time left (will become clear why later). Let me briefly reflect back on the last few days.

Had a very good weekend including a day out with the family to Warwick Castle. Monday pottered around the house trying hard to keep my feelings positive as per my new mission - had a great girly evening with my good friend chatting putting the world to rights. Got home and thought more about our previous conversation - lump in breast felt slightly bigger and noticed the skin around the lump was pink and slightly hot to the touch. I had also experienced pain in the breast over the weekend. I was previously told by the consultant there was no risk of further growth or spread but my nursing knowledge told me a different story. Had a very difficult night sleep that Monday night. 8.30am Tuesday morning called the breast cancer nurse. After a couple of calls it had been decided that I was to go into hospital to have an ultracound scan - not that the healthcare team was concerned (I was told) - more for my piece of mind. So midday I was promptly called in for my scan. The results blew me away - not only had the tumor grown 5 mm in width and somewhat in depth, but the tumor had also grown upwards towards the healthy part of my breast (hence the pink colour and change in the skin.) The radiographer immediately called the breast care nurse whilst I was escorted to the visitors room and offered a cup of tea. I called Ian as he was at work to inform him of this latest in the long line of disasters. By now my mind had lost all form of positivity - surely if this surgery hadn't been left for so long - or at least had the op on the original dates - this would not have occurred. The nurse entered the room and I stared at her in utter disbelief telling her how I was thinking and feeling. She did not disagree with these points and informed me of their complaints procedure. I was then escorted to the lounge area where I was told I would see a different oncologist at 2.30pm where decisions would have to be made as it was clear this could not now be left any longer. I felt very fustrated, extremely angry, lonley and isolated at this stage. I simply couldn't take in the fact that the delay of the op had allowed the tumor to grow as well as being told by the consultant I was not at risk from tumor growth or spread - despite me raising this concern directly with the consultant over the phone I was given reasurrance this would not be the case. These thoughts just kept going round and round. The nurse gave me information of their complaints procedure encouraging me to take this up. I called Ian again to update him - whilst I was speaking on the phone he said he was literally on his way to the hospital. We have a shared family car which I taken to get me to the hospital leaving Ian unable to leave work - until upon hearing of what was going on Ian's boss very kindly and quickly offered Ian a lift up to the hospital - felt relief and gratitude for this generous action which enabled Ian to be with me in half an hour. Seeing the oncolgist together it had been decided that the best plan of action was to start chemo now in order to shrink the growth of the tumor with surgery 6 weeks after the last chemo session. More disaster hit me when I was informed that due to the damage caused by the tumor to the healthy tissue I was unable to have immediate reconstruction. Why? Why? Why? - I wanted to scream. Why didn't they allocate the op earlier? Why did they leave this for so long? ARRRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So, after taking bloods and having undergone a CT Scan, I left the hospital with my family again in absolute disbelief. Suffice to say I spent the rest of the evening not really caring from a meal and a large bottle of wine!



Had a phone call from the nurse the following morning to inform me that chemo was to start Friday at 9am, and the results from the CT Scan (which all the bad news we have had by now thought was negative and the cancer had spread) was actually negative - no spread. Bloody hell - what's this, positive news, someone punch me as I'm not sure what positive means anymore. My friend came over to see me and with the lovley sunshine was able to enjoy that day. Thursday now - mum and aunt came over again, had another lovley day in the sun, coffee and buns and lots of support. So, now at approx 23.24 on Thursday evening chemo starts tomorrow. Glanced earlier at the paperwork informing me of what drugs I am having in these sessions - not very appealing in the least, and to expect the normal side-effects of nausea and vomiting, hair loss and extreme tiredness, not to mention the many other side-effects. Now, trying hard to look forward, being positive I intend to enjoy the little time I have this evening before commencing on the not-so-nice stuff for a few months.

I will update as and when I can. Many thanks to all of you who follow this blog. Your supportive messages have been an immense strength to me, sometimes in my darkest hour.
 xx

Where do I start?

Don't know where to begin on this entry - to sum up these last seven days won't take many words. Utter sadness, disbelief, frustration, as well as feeling powerless and quite low. I have also been made aware of some important facts about all of this that I find hard to take on-board - 1. to control these emotions (which has been incredibly hard), 2. to build up my support network (which all my friends and family have been extremely supportive) and 3. (which I find the most difficult) to look after me first and foremost.

So, I begin a new mission - before this battle commences (which will start on the day of the op) I am trying my upmost to conquer these 3 points above, as I have realised without this in place there will not be enough 'fight' left in me to win this battle. Maybe I will include these points in future entries so I can also take a reflective stance of this. Therefore, of today -

1. My feelings and emotions - have felt and experienced different feelings, acknowledged this and have been able to let them pass by without dwellingon them.
2. Build up support network - in touch with good friends who are able to offer their support and regularly  communicating/seeing family members.
3. Me - hmm, ooh yes, had a bun from the bakers and made arrangements to see my friend. Unfortunately as I'm not working all housework was completed so perhaps that is something I need to work on to pass onto other members of the family!

To sign off I would like to say a big thanks for my family, in particular to my anut and mum who came to see me today with their many gifts, who made me realise what is really important as well as giving  me the encouragement to continue on this journey. 

Armageddon.

The end of my world - thats how it felt. The result of the appointment I had on Friday left me feeling with words that I cannot even begin to describe.Was ushered in over an hour late, again, with the consultant and cancer nurse talking openly between themselves and us as still no date for the op had been forthcomming. Discussions included trying for Monday or Wednesday this coming week by cancelling clinics and other patient's surgery to accommodate me - at this point I was happy to go along with this as I completely understand the politics and red tape behind planning patient's care. So, as they noted my mobile number I was promised a phone call during the afternoon to inform me of a date as this was still being worked on. I didn't wait too long for this call - the cancer nurse who called left a voicemail informing me that indeed they did now have a date for my op - on the 4th of April. In disbelief I just stared at the phone. Then the landline rung and it was the cancer nurse who rang to ensure I had recieved the voicemail on the mobile. I felt fustrated and cross at this time and spoke to the nurse of how this news had left me feeling - I then spoke to the consultant as I was concerned that leaving an op for this length of time would lead to a higher risk of the cancer metastasing to other organs. I was reassured that this was not the case - but as I think back this was also the consultant who on the initial assessment informed me that the lump I had in my breast, in his opinion, was classed as a "strong suspicion" of being a cyst. So, my apprehension was not, and has not been put at ease.

It was during this appointment I enquired - again - that as I am taking a hormone contraceptive pill do I continue with this as I was aware this could encourage the growth of the tumour depending on whether this was oestrogen positive or negative. I was then informed after the nurse glanced at my clinical notes that indeed the tumour is oestrogen positive - meaning that the pill should have been stopped as soon as this information was available (and this info has been available for at least 2 weeks). As a consequence of this it appears I will have to go through other courses of treatment in addition to everything else - possibly for up to 5 years. Great - just what I need - to have learnt that I have actually been 'feeding' the bloody tumour in the first place is not really the best of news, then to immediately stop and find an alternative long-term contraception, begin menstruation now and then have to enter early menopause due to effects of chemo, as well as being told that my op is now on the 4th April has just been too much. Not coped with this at all very well. Was in a very dark place Friday evening that I never wish to visit again. Weekend was just about bearable - but still feel like I really don't know anymore. Don't really know what to say now - no quirky words, just feel blank. Of course, I will write again once I can gain a sense of anything that has happened since Friday.

The Deed

Woke up fairly early on the morning of The Deed, done the necessary chores, drove kids to school and set to with my nornal exercise routine. Couldn't help noticing however I felt incredibly sick. Trying hard to keep my focus I finished exercising and got ready to go out. Felt very strange at this point, saying aloud goodbye to the cats, bedroom and house as this would be my last goodbye I would say with long hair! It was also incredibly difficult saying goodbye to Ian and the boys before they left too. I met my friend who was coming along for moral support at the pub for lunch and a large glass of dutch courage! 10 mins before the appointment was due my friend quickly suggested buying cakes so we can munch on them during the deed. With this I grabbed my coat and my friend looked surprised on how fast I moved!! We arrived at the hairdressers armed with all sorts of luxury cookies and being escorted into the chair had my hair washed. When in the hairdressing seat my friend offered me a cookie. At this point I was extremely grateful for this as the shear enjoyment and delight of eating my favourite food forced me to take my mind on what was happening - large chunks of my long hair being cut extremely short. I couldn't even look - I just kept eating. The longer pieces of hair was being collected by the assistant as I am going to send this off to a charity where hair donations are made into wigs for children who are also undergoing treatments for cancer. Eventually I looked into the mirror. I wasn't too shocked, in fact felt quite surprised on how calm I felt - must have been the chemicals from the chocolate cookie! Whilst the hairdresser kept cutting and snipping my friend was taking photos and asked if I wanted to see the back. Despite feeling calm I felt I couldn't look until the deed was complete. So, approx one hour and 20 mins later I left the hairdressers with an Emma Watson hair style. The first 1-2 hours I felt like I had a wig placed on my forehead as I wasn't used to the shorter layers and kept trying to flatten this down. Did some shopping that included buying new hair products and went for a quick coffee. I have to say at this point my friend had made me feel very special throughout the entire process and had made the deed much easier to cope with - teamed with the kind words from the hairdresser I felt like royalty. My friend and I said our goodbyes and wandering through town I bumped into 2 other friends - who was also extremely supportive - especially as I hadn't seen one particular friend for years despite the warm thoughts and encouragement messages I had recieved from this blog being followed. When I got home I then felt very nervous of showing off the new hair to the family - Ian in particular who had expressed concern over my feelings on this. However, I need not have worried as all showed genuine delight of my new hair style - even Ian saying he felt relief that I was happy and he was pleased with the results. We then settled into celebrating my new achievement throughout the evening with good food, wine and a bowl of popcorn with a drama on TV.

Thursday was at a much slower pace - had appointment at the hospital for pre-admin checks. Still no date for the surgery though and this is now making me feel very unsettled. I have another appointment to see the consultant tomorrow and should be given a date then. Washed my hair this evening and I have the first pangs of ooh no - what have I done. But I know even my new hair is only temporary, in particular when chemo kicks in. So, gearing up for tomorrows appointment I give in gracefully to my bed calling and resist the urge to whack a ton of gel on top of my head to stop this wig feeling again! So, until tomorrow. 

   

Mentally preparing...

Well, Monday went off to a cracking start with cleaning the entire house top to bottom (as best as I could). Hey - I remember this feeling of nesting - but this time it is for completely different circumstances, as I know this type of activity will not be on the cards for months to come. When my 13 year old son came home from school asking to cut the grass (for a couple of pounds!) I surprised myself with this nesting instinct that continued by tidying around the garden too! Didn't sleep too well that night as for some reason short hair-do's was running through my mind ten to the dozen. Tuesday was at a slower pace mainly as I was completely exhaused from previous day's activities as well as tired from lack of sleep. Saw the plastic surgeon - believe it or not on time - and confirmed the surgery procedure I am having. Dates for the op are looking more like Monday next week but may be put back to the following week if necessary. I feel totally fed-up now with the wait and just want to get on with it all. However, on the other hand I am also aware from the date of the op starts a whole new everything including permanent change - and this feels like doomsday until complete recovery. Booked an appointment for the hairdressers for tomorrow and now feel quite nervous about this too although as a trusty friend advised me this was my part in taking control of the situation.

By the way - how's this for coincidence - Monday morning after washing my hair I went through the usual procedure of strightening it for what would be the very last time before getting my hair cut. This included the usual dropping of my strighteners as they often slip out of my hands. I have had these strighteners for the best part of 8 years without any fault or broken parts. However, that morning when I retrieved the strighteners from the floor after nearly finishing my hair I noticed that I had actually broken them!! The second very spooky coincidence occurred this morning (Tuesday) on my way to the hospital - after reading up on the side effects of chemo with gum disease I took the general advice of seeing a dentist prior to treatments and I booked a dentist appointment at lunchtime today. As we walked towards the clinic in the morning I felt crumbling from the tooth of concern to find the filling from that tooth had actually come away.  Is fate telling me something? They say these type of things occur in three's - not sure I want to know what is in store for me now - unless, of course it involves extra helpings of that georgous Thornton's ice-cream as the last lot for some reason has been eaten!!!