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.

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

36 hours and counting...

OK.
So I admit it.
I am slightly nervous about Friday.
Nervous or apprehensive?
Both - I guess.
But what about exactly?
That's the bit I'm unsure of.
I'm ok with the mechanics of putting a line in my arm. It might hurt a bit.
But it cannot hurt more than the 2 root canal fillings I subjected myself to on Monday. I only went in with a bit of toothache on a filling that I'd had done 4 weeks ago, and with what I thought was referred pain nearby. But alas....two full-on root jobs. And no amount of local anaesthetic could numb tooth number 1 and finally, only an injection into the roof of my mouth could deaden tooth number 2. I squealed; shouted; cried. I lost my flip-flops somewhere in the surgery when the drill hit the nerve. I behaved like a baby. I loathe dentists :(
So, my line - in my mind - will be ok.
I'm wondering what the sensation of the various drugs that get administered into me, will be like.
And will I be sick?
Will Gary cope with seeing me being poisoned.
How will I feel when I get home.
Will I seem 'normal' to Lily. She's had a couple of wobbles this week. She's worrying about the strong medicine and whether I will die. I'm hoping that when I'm still yelling 'Shoes off' or 'brush your teeth - don't forget the back ones' or 'come on Lil - it's a school day'...that she'll realise I'm still me. She's worrying about my lovely long blonde locks falling out too. Will hers fall out? (No). If I'm sick will she catch my bugs? (They're not bugs). Will I turn into an alien? (Probably!)
So - I'm off to M&S tomorrow, to buy a sassy picnic to take to the hospital with us on Friday.
And I'm popping in my salon to get my nails done.
One wants to look one's best for chemo.
Don't they?
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1 comment:

Jo Parkine said...

We'll be thinking of you every step of the way, i've bought a huge box of chocolates just to remind us of you and we can eat them while we read your blog, it'll feel like we're there with you. I wish we lived closer then we could be there to give you all a squeeze. Take care honey, love you xxxx

29 September 2011 at 10:16

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