It's a wonderful life!

Relieved.
Happy.
Alive.
The news last week, of a clear bone scan, was probably the best we've ever had.
Massive.
For the first time, Gary admitted that he thought I was really going to lose my life, sooner rather than later.
Me? I had already looked at death in the face.
But I wasn't afraid.
I've never been one to stick my head in the sand. I like to be prepared.
I had made secret lists. Practical lists. Wish lists. Lists for Gary. Lists for Lily.
I was ready.
And I'm still ready.
The bone scan doesn't change the triple-negative diagnosis, nor does it change my prognosis, but it has given us a point at which we can say, at this moment in time, there is no evidence of the cancer in my organs or my bones. 
And that buys time.
And I'm grateful for that gift of time.


A big shout out of 'THANK YOU' goes to you all. The messages of relief, support and encouragement came flooding in after my Newsflash. Brilliant. It has kept me going through what has been the toughest days of the treatment so far. 100% of chemo in me now and my body is crying out. Enough! But there's no going back. I'm full to the brim with chemicals. And still smiling.


After Lily had finished school swimming this week, she accidentally dropped her dry knickers onto the wet floor. She had to go back to school, & then for tea, at Granny-Mo's minus knickers. On arrival at my Mum's she told her of the predicament, and in a serious tone. "Has cousin Issy left any behind that I could borrow? I can wear age 10.". Mum didn't think so. " Well I could wear some of yours Granny-Mo, but I think age 75 might be too big........". 


Lily has been quite amazing - especially in the last week. She fully understood the 'good news' and also the fact this is my last chemo. Lily knows that it isn't the day of my chemo that's hard. It's the 2 or 3 weeks after. She has given me pep-talks, cuddles, love, encouragement. We talk about what we'll do soon; at Easter time; summer time. She's on for a BIG prize, for being especially helpful in the week gone by, and next week to come. She's decided to go with Gary to the Gadget Shop, and have any toy/gadget of her choosing. She's even co-erced Gary into having an early look this weekend, at what she could 'win' next weekend. She's a smart cookie. She's got her eye on the prize.......! And talking of Lily - we couldn't have got through these difficult weeks without the constant support of Lily's friends. Thank you again for all the picking up from school, the tea-dates, the trips out. It's been fun for Lily - and essential for me. I'm looking forward to being able to have lots of return dates, tea, play, fun etc in the summer. And I know Lily is too.
I caught up with an old friend this week. We'd temporarily lost touch in the last 12 months & she was clearly shocked at my current goings-on. A friend for nearly 20 years - we chatted easily, as if I'd only had coffee with her the day before. We shared many many laughs, memories, fun times, boyfriends, marriages, babies, nights out, work stuff.  She's had me chuckling for days. Thank you JoB. You've been a tonic.


So what next? I'm still in recovery phase. Not doing a lot. Not ABLE to do a lot. But it will pass! Gary's insisting I conserve energy...to get as well as I can for the next bout of treatment. The radiotherapy. I'm not concerned about the treatment itself. But the travel to the hospital really sounds like a pain in the proverbials! I've had lots of offers for lifts, and after my planning appointment on the 2nd February, I shall be able to firm up my rota, of kind folks who are donating their time to take me there & back. Cheers!


We've also planned a few little treats - my health at the time will dictate of course.  A visit from Gary's sister Tina & family, over half-term week. They are easy company & I won't have to wait on them! An away weekend for Gary's birthday, to include a home game at his beloved Derby County,and a few beers for him with a  DVD/takeaway/PJ's for the girls. A trip to my VBF's, to watch Jules run her first big run on my behalf - raising funds for for a charity of my choice. I want to be there on the finish line, as she has been there every step of my adventure with me.
Loads of things to look forward to.
Loads of life to look forward to.
A life.
A wonderful life!

Newsflash!

Hip, hip, hip, hooray,

Had final chemo today,

The scan is clear - 

Let's all cheer,

Hip, hip, hip hooray!!

Toasties

It's Sunday
It's very sunny but bitterly cold.....one of my favourite weather combinations.
On Thursday I was treated to a day out with the Oldies. Mum and Dad kindly took me to Exeter for the bone scan. Setting out at 10.30am we arrived in good time to find an illusive parking space. Presenting ourselves at the Nuclear Medicine Dept, at 12noon, I was taken straight into the treatment room. An attempt was made to get a line in my hand - which failed (ouch!) - so the PICC line in my arm was used to administer the radioactive substance. Didn't hurt one bit, and I had no reaction to it. 
We were free to leave the hospital - to return at 2pm.
A new Waitrose had opened nearby..and being very intrigued (and because I don't think I've ever been in 'posh/expensive' Waitrose - not very popular up North..or in North Devon for that matter) - we went to sample their fayre. A lovely lunch - I must say. Very posh. And clean!  And expensive! We had a nosey round the store. Wished I'd got a spare few quid so I could do a big shop there. Everything seemed sooo nice. It would be equivalent to doing your weekly shop in Marks & Spencer's...and I don't know any normal person who does that. Do you?
Back to the department. No waiting as usual. 
Into a new room - with what can only be described as a giant sandwich toaster. I lie down on the bed and get strapped in gently. I can choose music...I look through the CD collection they give me & come to the conclusion that this machine must be frequented by a lot of old people! A compilation of soul music is my choice....and then have to resist the temptation to jiggle & jive to the beat! I'm sucked into the toaster, and the plates are manoeuvred within an inch of my nose. Luckily I'm not claustrophobic. Over the next 20 minutes I'm very very slowly posted back out of the toaster. It's fine. Really easy. Then the toaster is turned 45 degrees and positioned near my ribs to get a full view of my upper cavity. There...all done...nicely cooked. Ham & cheese toastie anyone?
The results will be definitely be ready for this Thursday 19th. 
Did I mention it's my LAST SCHEDULED CHEMO?
I see Dr Scratchcard anyway before each chemo session so she will be able to give us the news.
How do I feel about it?
Well. It's weird. With everything in life, you always imagine how you are going to feel about a situation - but quite often the reality is very different. All the way through this cancer journey of mine, I've felt quite calm and orderly. 
What will be, will be. 
My view is that I can't change the diagnosis. That's already been set within me. All I can control is how I deal with each new step. I try and apply my practical brain to each problem.  I've already checked out my Life Assurance for instance. And yes they should pay out if it's bad news on Thursday. In my practical brain - that would make me happy, because I'll be satisfied that the mortgage is paid off and we'll have a few quid left in the bank to enjoy. All before I'm dead! Excellent! You don't often get the chance to enjoy your Life Assurance..it normally goes to those left behind. 
See...every cloud has a silver lining! 
Now, I realise this talk freaks some of you out - but if you know me at all...you know this is how I cope. 
I am Mrs Organised. 
Before I started chemo..I went through my linen cupboard, sorted it all out, labelled the shelves single/double/king-size/pillowcases etc..so if I got too ill...whoever was looking after me could easily identifty the sheets. 
See. Practical head! 
If it's good news on Thursday...I shall of course be very very relieved. Not just for me, but for my very worried family and concerned friends.
So.
Chemo number 6 has come around really quickly this time.
And I'm filled with dread.
In all honesty, I haven't recovered yet from number 5.
I've been incredibly tired. I didn't even make it to the day of pampering last Friday at the Hospice. Ironic really. Too tired to to go for a relaxation day? 
Still - there'll always be another.
And I got out of swimming again today with Gary & Lily.
Every cloud DOES have a silver lining!
Hahaha xx

It's all gone nuclear......

I'm off for some more nuclear medicine on Thursday.
Yes, the full body bone scan appointment has come through.
At 12 noon, I'll have an injection of radioactive substance - which should be absorbed by the bones - to be picked up by the gamma rays at around 3pm.
This time tho, I am allowed to leave Trevor Eve's bunker, and don't have to stay in the waiting room rubbing my arms & legs, performing star jumps in my fetching NHS open-back robe, waiting for the nuclear substance to infuse.
No, this time I'm allowed to leave, so I think a spot of lunch is called for in Exeter and possibly even a quick jaunt round a shop or two. Depends how tired I am, because, oh boy, have I been tired this time? Tired - nay - exhausted. And I've barely lifted a finger! It's embarrassing. I'm beginning to feel like Waynetta Slob. I feel like one of those 'pack-a-mate' bags, where you stick in a massive duvet, suck the air out with the hoover & it all goes crinkly & flat. That's me! Crinkly and flat!  I've called in reinforcements for the cleaning. Yes I am paying for a pro for a few hours - just like I did before Christmas. A lovely lady, who'll soon crack the post Christmas mess. 
So, back to Exeter. I'll be back on the unit for 3pm & the scan will take approximately one hour. 
I won't be driving myself - too bushed.
And hopefully the results will be available for Dr Scratchcard next Thursday 19th. Because - and I'm not sure if I've mentioned this.....
IT WILL BE MY LAST CHEMO!
Or will it?
Guess what?.......the treatments for secondaries in the spine include chemo & radiotherapy..
Hahahahahaha.......
I'm laughing hysterically!
Be just my luck!
But my money's on spondylitis, osteoarthritis, lazyitis, too much Homes Under the Hammer or a chill! Any of those will do - thanks.
On Friday I've been invited to the 'Look Good, Feel Great' day at the hospice. Looking forward to it. I get pampered apparently with a nice lunch thrown in. And I've also been invited to a day of crafts - felt making one day & wire design another. And  - I shall go - I've nothing better on my agenda! (and I'm a crafty so'n'so). 
I will get basket weaving one day!
Or wig making..
Or make a felt hat...

Night Fever!

It's 72 hours after chemo 5 and I'm lying quietly in bed. 
January 1st 2012.
I don't need a party, or a drink (OK - I still haven't got over last years celebrations!!).
I have a ready-made drug induced hangover.
Lily has been out for New Years Eve for a party/sleepover with some fab friends of ours.
I know - she's only six - and is having a far superior social life than her parents! 
She arrives home and thinks I need cheering up.
Excitedly she goes off and returns with something.
"Close your eyes Mummy"
I duly oblige.
"Now...Open!"
She has rigged up her revolving multi-coloured disco ball...and turned off the lights....
I am now transported to a world of Night Fever, flashing lights, twirling round and round, a spectacular feeling of end-of-night out drunkeness, where you wished you hadn't had that last Black Russian and wonder why the bed won't stop spinning.
"How lovely my darling - what a wonderful surprise!"
I think I may be sick..... 
Happy New Year Lily!


Getting through days 3, 4 and 5 have been tough this time. Challenging, one might say. A combination of having 80% of the chemo drugs inside me now, and having the Gang of Three, unusually, at home. Normally I can crawl through the treacle alone with the assistance of Mum & Dad, while Gary & Lily are in the comfortable oblivion of work/school. They were both at home on day 4 and constantly worried about the amount of time I spent lying down. And, due to bad planning on my part, I had Lily alone on day 5 morning - day 5 being the very worst in the chemo cycle. Unable to function, I could've thrown in the towel or sat and bawled my eyes out or both. Poor Lily couldn't understand why Mummy was incapable of even putting one foot in front of the other, let alone look for Baby Born's pink silk riding outfit, that absolutely had to be found.
I felt terrible for her. 
And terrible for me. 
Then the cavalry arrived. 
And I was rescued.
Thank goodness.
Thank you x


Today, unusually for day 6 - I had to venture out. 'So what?', you might think. Well - I'm still drunk, giddy, got 'cold turkey' shakes & struggle for sensible meaningful conversation. We had an appointment with 'Dr One-sheet' the next oncologist on my list, who is organising the radiotherapy. It was easy though, once we got to the hospital, and I had managed not to throw up in the car. A chat and an examination. A discussion on the treatment itself. Apparently My Surgeon has left markers inside the boob, so the radiotherapy team know exactly where to aim and fire. Clever eh? 
A bit of sun-burn and fatigue, is all to expect. And, oh, with it being my left side, we need to be careful of my  heart...oooooh - there's always something! 
Four weeks treatment - starting, conditionally, on Feb 20th.
Every day at the Royal Devon & Exeter Hospital.
Only an hours drive away.
And back again....
But in comparison to the chemo...sounds like a doddle!
Dr One-sheet reminds me that he will do his best, because as I'm triple-negative, chemo & radio are my only treatment options. Thanks for the reminder chuck.
And I sign the form, which genuinely says that I agree to radiotherapy 'to prolong my life'.
It's hard seeing it in black and white.
The truth hurts.
I sign vigorously.


I'm still agonising over the bone scan. The request has been made & the nice folks at the RD&E Nuclear Medicine dept (yes I've been there before!) tell me the appointment will be in the next 2 weeks. I realise that every pain/twinge/ache will be scrutinised from now on in, and I have no complaints about that - it's just such a shock to be thinking of secondaries so early on in the game. 
But. 
Whatever it is - there's nowt I can do about it now - so I'll stare it in the face and deal with it. 
Or, of course, get free physio.
And a rub down.
That'll do nicely - thanks!