On the 28th July 2011, my life changed in one phone call with the simple words - 'yes - it's cancer'. I've created this blog, for the benefit of my wonderful close and extended family; and for my amazing friends around the globe, so I can keep you abreast (!) of my journey.

My diagnosis of 2 x grade 3 (fast growing) tumours - type - 'Triple-Negative' - so called
because it doesn’t
have receptors (proteins on the surface
of cells) for the hormones oestrogen and
progesterone, or a protein called HER2, was shocking. This rare aggressive sub-type of breast cancer, therefore, doesn't respond to common
hormonal treatments, such as tamoxifen or
anastrozole (Arimidex®
) or
trastuzumab (Herceptin®
). Survival rates are considerably lower, than for more common types of breast cancer, especially in years 0 - 5, but on a par 5+ years post treatment.

Fast forward to December 2020. Secondary cancer . Triple negative again but the tumour localised to the scar of the primary cancer. The prognosis is weaker. I am buying myself time - with chemo currency.

This will not be a sad tale - but I hope it will amuse you, inspire you, and most of all allow me to lean on you from afar, as you guide me through what looks like a rocky road ahead.

I can't guarantee a happy ending, but hope to make you laugh to the end.

Monday, 15 August 2011

Keep up!

Friday 29th July
So it's 9am the morning. Gary and I are sitting in a special room at the hospital, with my new best friend - Karen - my breast care nurse (BCN). 'Nice range of bras' - I say to Gaz, as I notice the shelves stacked high with bras called Dora, Bunty, Doris...yes - you get the picture.


The past 12 hours have been weird. From getting THAT phone call, I try to act normally in the salon & take Lily home - interspersed with phoning Gaz at work (It's positive, I say, you need time off in the morning) & phoning Mum & Dad....I'm so, so sorry, I say - I've really made their day.
At home we hug. All three of us hug. We hug until we cannot breathe. Lily thinks it's brilliant. We don't cry.
I share the news with two massively good friends. They cry - I can't think why?
We set about telling our immediate family. What a shitty thing to have to do to the people we love the most. Gary wants to tell his Dad...but we can't...he's terminally ill, on his last furlong - it's too cruel & we don't want the responsibility of finishing him off...still, Gary needs his Daddy too, at a time like this.


I don't sleep of course - 2am & I'm drinking tea and eating choc ices from the freezer - think I might be sick.
So here we are in the special room.


BCN holds my hand.
Lets get down to it.
75% of ladies have the oestrogen related breast cancer...but not me - I'm less common - oestrogen negative (ER-). No Tamoxifen for me.
Being tested for HER2 - whoever she is. If that's also negative - no Herceptin either. I'll be triple negative...and the drug for that is ....??? There isn't one - fantastic.
There are two lumps in there. Two?? Another one that's causing more concern is hiding behind the golf ball.
They are classed as grade 3 (eh? is that good or bad?)...it's bad - fast growing & spreading.
Well this is all going rather well.......
So, says BCN, you are booked in for surgery next Wednesday. Good heavens...speed of light...that's quick for the NHS - they can't be very busy at the moment me thinks. I haven't even mentioned my BUPA membership yet.
Breast conserving surgery to remove the tumours - I think tree-huggers/conservationists when they are trying to protect a forest from the savages of a new road passing through - then 18 weeks of chemo and then radiotherapy. Blimey, I think, who IS this poorly person Gary & BCN are talking about - I'm in the wrong room...I've only come in to talk about me lump.


We talk wigs/hats/scarves/sickness/fatigue/operation/no driving/childcare
And how to tell Lily. My lovely Lily. My precious 6 year old daughter who I love to the moon & back - for whom I will fight the good fight and I REFUSE to leave this earth for. Not yet at least.

Return for pre-op Tuesday.
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