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, 1 February 2013

Should've worn magenta...

So.
How shall I put this?
I saw My Surgeon on Monday, with fab hubby in tow.
Just wore a plain bra this time - nothing to fear!
He had a good feel & noticed me wincing.
I've had some pain you see, in the ribs near naughty boob.
Only Gary knew.
And my lovely GP.

 It's probably nothing - delayed reaction to surgery, chemo, radiotherapy.
Tendonitis.
Sore ribs.
Spare ribs (now there's an idea for tea).

 But he wasn't entirely happy.
So off we trotted to have some blood tests, and a chest X-Ray.
And another nuclear infused bone scan was requested.
Now scheduled for Wednesday 6th February, at Exeter RD&E, Nuclear Dept.
Then my GP rings - two days later.
Summut's up with me bloods.
Bugger.

 So here I am.
Trying to pretend everything's fine.
A bit concerned - but also applying my usual 'glass half full' approach rather than 'glass half empty & leaking'.
In the grand scheme of things - this is a blip.
A minor hiccup.
Just the naughty cancer keeping me on my toes.
Waving it's ugly head, cheekily above the parapet.
'Don't forget me' - it screams.
I won't.
How can I forget?
But next time I'll be wearing my lucky magenta bra & knickers.
That'll sort it.
Won't it?

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