The summit

What a lovely view.
Breathtaking.
I see the blue sea and pearly white sand of St Lucia on one side
On the other; crisp white snow, an elf waiting to greet me to go & find Santa. Lapland.
Where am I?
On top of my mountain of course!
I've got through chemo round 3. And here I am.
Halfway.
Top of the mountain.
Three giant steps left.
And surely this stage will be over.
Let it be.

I have recovered from my mini-meltdown last week.
Bound to happen some might say. And rightly so. Nurse Gladys Emmanuel - who did bear the brunt of my burst dam of tears and excess snivelling - was concerned enough to get another specialist involved. I have a cancer specialist nurse from the Hospice coming to visit me tomorrow. Now I've already signed up for Reiki massage and some counselling at the hospice - so I'm unsure what tomorrow will entail. However, services are being offered - and I'm not too proud to refuse. Basket weaving here we come.

I realise my previous post sounded like a rallying call - although its not what I had intended. But boy - did you respond! Many messages of support. Many friends helping with Lily. Lots of hugs. Chocolate. Magazines. Thank you.
Thank you for not tiring of me. Thank you for your continued support of Lily. Thank you for caring about Gary.
So. I'm OK. No, really I am. No fibs.
Just a couple of sherries from sober. Tired. Very tired. But functioning. Just.
Except when I went out for the first time in 11 days today. To Tesco's (Oooooh). I spot a HUGE shoulder of lamb on offer. £3.99. Absolute bargain. I think of the fabulous luxury James Martin pot-roasted Shepherds Pie http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/potroastedlambshephe_92551.
I seemed to have spent a lot on a few bits.
It was only when I got home that I realised.
£3.99 per kilo.
Doh!
£15 for a Shepherds Pie!!!!!
So much for my austerity measures....
It had better be good....
Chemo brain....
Doh!
Safer to do basket weaving me thinks.
Or origami....

Rest...please.

I don't know what's more sad.....
Having a spazzy grab rail installed in the shower to stop me falling, or being so bored, that I take a peek at the Jeremy Kyle Show. Fear not, friends - Jeremy only lasted 2 minutes, as I realise that I didn't feel quite so under-privileged after all. I have my own teeth, I know the identity of my father and I don't need to take a lie detector test to find out what I had for tea last night. The grab rail will come in useful when I'm better - I'll need some where to hang the soap-on-a-rope!
Ironically, District Nurse Gladys Emmanuel told me to rest MORE yesterday on her weekly visit. Seriously, if I lie down anymore I'll need a stretcher on wheels, to ferry me around, room to room. You do realise, she told me, a lot of folks on your chemo regime don't even make it out of bed, for the first week? No, I didn't realise that actually. It is a toughie - but I have got up (well staggered) in the morning - just for my Lily. I try and resemble her Mummy, getting her ready for school, breakfast, teeth, hair, waving her off with Gary in tow. 'I love you' I shout. 'I love you to the moon & back Mummy' she returns.
It was a strangely, and unusually, emotional day yesterday.
From the chemo on Friday, I had a bad reaction on Friday night about 11pm. I was quite poorly, but also frightened. We got through it, with extra drugs, TLC from Gary & a few tears from me. The high of the steroids wore off much more quickly & didn't really sustain me through the worst of the chemo. In summing up, the chemo drugs have a cumulative effect, and I have 50% of the course in me now. So it stands to reason that the poisonous effects of the chemo are going to outweigh the pain-relieving & 'whizz you through the first few days' steroids they give you to counter-act it.
So I crawl through treacle for a few days, telling everyone 'I'm fine', 'I'm on the up', 'It's ok'.
Except yesterday.
I was tired of worrying about Gary. Pretending that I was OK - keeping my emotions in check.
I was tired of making people feel better, so they didn't worry about me.
I was tired of lying.
I was tired of being positive.
I felt sorry for myself.
And I needed a hug.
A big one.
I wanted to be told, that it would be OK- even if it's not.
And I wanted to cry.
And I did.
All day.
I cried because I hate cancer.
I cried because of the effect it is having on our lives.
I cried because some people still just don't get it.
None of you readers/friends/family of course...I have kept you well informed about the triple-neg blighter - you know the score. It's the un-informed lot.
The unhelpful comments of 'well if you're not having Tamoxifen that's good - isn't it - cos you don't need it.' Er, no, they haven't developed a drug for me yet. That's bad. Very Bad. Or, 'well I just can't understand why you are so poorly with your chemo. My friend's neighbour's daughter, twice-removed,  had breast cancer, chemo, 6 children and worked full-time, took origami classes in the evening, without even a day off work'. Well bully for them. And what type of breast cancer did they have? What was their chemo regime? What was their dosage? Are you sure they had chemo & not just radiotherapy? What grade were the tumours? How many were there? How fast were they growing? What was their initial diagnosis? What's their current prognosis?
There. That's better.
I've got it off my chest.
So today.
I start anew.
I've made a chicken & butternut squash curry in the slow cooker for tonight.
Cooked a bread & butter pudding & sampled it's warming delightfulness.
Showered.
Put some washing in. Well - a necessity really - cos I've run out of casual attire and I'm now forced to wear a pair of fetching Lidl joggers. In white.
Chabby chic?
Ha!
No!
Definitely Jeremy Kyle!!!! x

Wheeeeee!

Here I go again.....
Buzzing off to somewhere fuzzy.
Brain is addled.
Eyes won't focus.
And no (hic!) gin & tonic anywhere near me.
I think I can FLY!
Wheeee!
Or bungee-jump
Wheeeee!
Or tandem-dive out of an aircraft...
Ooohh...I've got the munchies.
Thank God for my Twiglets/Cheddars/piccalilli
The top of the mountain is in sight...
A few days hard slog to get there
But I will.
You know that.
I will. x

Cancer is so limited...

Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.

Chemo round 3 tomorrow.
A few days to get to the top of the mountain.
Then down again.
I'm ready.
To go 'Wheeeeeee'
Think of me.
The champagne's going in the fridge.
Ready for my descent.
To the foot of the mountain...
And round 6.
But one day at a time - eh.
No point rushing it.
The chemo has to work
Cos there's nowt else for me
No preventative drug.
No Tamoxifen or Herceptin
Just chemo, radio and a wing & a prayer.
And champagne of course!
Cheers! x

The simple things in life....

When you are being forced to be ill - as I am with every dose of chemo & associated drugs - you do very much appreciate being well!
The extra drug given to me to boost the bone marrow, and stop my blood count being so low (and making me extra poorly) - really seems to have done the trick. With my new-found feeling of being 'well' (in your terms - probably just feeling normal!) - 10 days after my last chemo round (where, quite frankly, it's pants), I had a very enjoyable few days.

I had an adventure on a bus on Tuesday. A simple act -  (I must confess - I haven't used a bus for many years...) hopping on a bus - Mum was already on it from her village - and going into town.
I say town - its a very dinky one-high street affair - just perfect for me - hardly any effort involved in walking around. A bite to eat, a giggle, a shock at how much Christmas stuff there is around and a ride back. All for £1.85 return. Bargain!
On Wednesday, I dared to drive. Driving and my particular chemo don't mix at all. It would be the same as driving under the influence of drink/drugs...and I've never done that (I know - BORING - but Dad is a retired senior policeman - remember!). I drove to get my nails done - one of the important things of life...well mine anyway!
I then drove to pick Lily up from school. She was bursting with love and pride, at the sight of me, with my new hair, at school, for her. Such a simple act - and yet so heart-warming. I love her SOooo much.
Thursday was like Clapham Junction at home.
Firstly a lady from the Hospice visited me. She's going to support Lily through play therapy at home. She's a specialist children's counsellor - supporting families with life-threatening illnesses. I hope Lily will benefit greatly from this.
Then my weekly visit from Nurse Gladys Emmanuel to care for my Picc line or Pixie as we call it now - thanks to my American rellies.
Then a surveyor, who came to assess the house for cavity wall/loft insulation. Didn't I mention this? A perk of having cancer - a free government grant for insulation! Whoopee! I do feel mildly embarrassed that I actually qualify for such a luxury (!) - but hey-ho..I've paid my taxes over the years.
Then Mum & Dad. Dad made tea, while Mum ironed. Marvellous.
And finally Friday - I was well enough for a 'Ladies that lunch' with my mate Crocks - yippee. It was alcohol free (makes a change) - but still great fun . And 10 mins Christmas shopping, thrown in - perfect! Cheers mate x

And today.
The sun is shining.
I'm with my gang of three.
I feel well.
And I'm happy...
To be alive...
It's chemo 3 on Friday - bloods permitting.
10 days after that - I'll consider myself at the top of the mountain.
Just three giant steps down again.
I can do this.
I will do this.
You won't beat me.
Loser.

Oooh...Matron!

“I learned there are troubles of more than one kind.
Some come from ahead, others come from behind.
But I've bought a big bat.
I'm all ready, you see.
Now my troubles are going to have trouble with me.” -- Dr. Seuss (Thank you D)

I emerge from my chemical drug stupor today realising I do feel a little better than yesterday, and significantly more alert than Wednesday.
I'm text-book really, as by Wednesday - day 5, the steroids had worn off...and I crashed.
Unable to do very much, walk, talk or think very clearly, I'm sensible enough to await assistance in the shower and spend the day watching my incredible Mum tackle the post-holiday ironing.
I tell her not to do it - but when 'Matron' insists....well - end of story.
I want to be the best Mummy....but I'm hopelessly out-shadowed by my own. Love you Mum x.

I get a good call today from BCN Karen. The 'mass' on my scan has been confirmed as post-op swelling/fluid - which has gone now.
Huge relief...
Deep breath...
And Relax...
And I've been referred to the local Hospice.
At first....the very mention of the Hospice....you know that place where people go to pass...sends me into a spin. I calm down and listen. The Hospice offer complimentary therapies to work alongside the chemo/radiotherapy (and I stress complimentary as opposed to alternative). Things like massage, facials, how to look good with a wonky boob & Kojak hairstyling. How to make your face look slim when the steroids have turned you into a yellow-tinged, waning moon and how to draw on great eyebrows. Except I don't need these...mine are oh, so wonderful! I accept the referral. I might enjoy it.
Or I could learn basket-weaving.

Mental note to self:
Do not place the online grocery order on day 3 of chemo.
I view the order that has arrived today, and wonder how I'm going to make a week's worth of nutritious family meals with:
36 bags Twiglets
18 bags mini-Cheddars Branston pickle flavour
Sezchuan Hot'n'Sour soup
2 limes
Fish sauce
20 hand baked giant cookies
4 bars Galaxy
And a jar of Piccalilli.....

Any one fancy a snack?

Two down...four to go...

I dress up for my 2nd round of chemo.
I want to look 'fabulous darhhling!'
Sporting a blonde wig, black knee length boots, a bright pink/red wool skirt & purple poncho combo - I'm ready. And I do receive lovely compliments!
We arrive at 10.30 - greeted by the Spanish lady oncologist Martini - who sees us straight away.
There's a little problem.
With the scan.
That was clear...
Except it's not..
Eh?
You may as well have slapped us with a big wet fish.
There's still a mass showing in the offending left boob.
You naughty, naughty triple neg cancer - just stop this misbehaving - now - if you don't mind.
A full examination later & Martini is fairly satisfied with an explanation of post surgery swelling/fluid where one of the tumours once resided - but it will still be referred to the MDT (multi-disciplinary team) meeting on Thursday. We will wait.
Again.
I send Gary off to do some little jobs - I don't like him watching me being poisoned.
Blood are taken & results are back within 20 mins...amazing.
They are low but OK to go.
Mega anti-sickness administered.  Wait an hour to work. Hook up to a glucose drip.
Accept an NHS soup/ham sandwich/Angel Delight for lunch - we had no time for an M&S sushi this time.
Swap glucose to saline drip and the 8 huge vials (giant sausage roll sized) of my various chemo/steroids/anti-sickness drugs are pumped manually alongside the saline.
It's OK. It's do-able. An extra drug of Pegfilgrastim which I will self inject on Saturday should boost the old bone marrow - to give me my pick-up in week 3.
Less of the fear factor - I know what to expect.
I'm going on a drug-induced binge for several days - I may be gone some time! Wheeeeee!


All done by 3pm & call Gary to collect me.
We head straight back on the road - 3 hours to get back to Sennen in time for tea.
In hindsight...not a good idea.
Who was I kidding? I should have lain down in a darkened room; peace & quiet, no distractions, no kids, no family dynamics. High on steroids - you think you are unbeatable & have everything to prove you are 'normal' - I almost achieved this - but at too high a price.
We returned on Sunday - by 6.30pm I was in bed...and didn't emerge until 5pm Monday.
But the chemo's working.
I've gone from Sinead to Kojak....best of all...Lily has stopped bursting into tears at the sight of me and will actually gingerly touch my baldy head now.
My silk pillow, from a wonderful friend has come into it's own. It's simply divine, luxurious and caresses my beautiful hairless head all night long - thank you again.
So - for this week..
Ignore the holiday washing.
Ignore the clean dirt (!) lurking around the house.
Ignore the pile of ironing.
Ignore the toothpaste splattered sinks.
Ignore the kitchen floor.

Give in to the desires of Hot'n'Sour soup for breakfast or the urgent need of super-sours sweets for lunch.

Concentrate on Rest & Recuperation.
And find the inner strength to fight.
Because - you bugger - I ain't giving up yet...not by a long chalk.
You lose.