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.

Friday, 4 November 2011

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?
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