Week 7: Thursday 05 - Wednesday 11 January 2017
So... a big week on many fronts.
Thursday of this week, mum and I dropped dad off to have his colonoscopy at the Western. That was actually the main reason why I had arranged the wig bank appointment for that day, as there was every chance that mum and I may have sat having coffee staring at the hospital walls, worrying about dad 😔.
However, he had a successful procedure, but now has to wait 3 weeks to get the results. Our family are not very good at waiting for results of things, and we are all certainly doing a lot of waiting around at the moment!
Anyway, once we had left dad in the hands of a lovely nurse (who incidentally reminded me of the Asian assassins in 'Kill Bill', and I could not get the theme song out of my head at that point...my mother says I have a very sick mind lol), we headed for a little bit of retail therapy.
The Edinburgh Wig Bank is lovely. It both recycles wigs from previous clients, as well as getting donations of brand new wigs in from various manufacturers. Normally wigs can retail at £200 - £400, but what the wig bank does is sell them for between £20 - £40, with donations from each sale going to both the Maggie's Centre and to local charities.
The wig bank itself was originally established by an Edinburgh lady who had found the whole process of getting a cancer wig to be challenging. So she decided to set up this wig bank and its now got branches around the UK - great piece of work and staffed by people who really understand what it's like to face having to get a wig. Certainly going forward I think this is one area I would maybe quite like to help in, or at least help to promote in any way possible.
Anyway, I wasn't actually sure how I would react to trying on wigs given my mini melt down with the hat / scarf week before, but actually, once I got into it, I was fine 😀.
Some of the wigs were really not attractive - think of Deirdre Barlow in Coronation Street... or a really really bad Rod Stewart... I was laughing when I took them off the mannequin heads.... and some I just could not even look at without doubling over with laughter. I think perhaps, the salon is used to more quiet and decorous clientele 😜.
Anyway having gone in with the intention of getting one wig, I ended up with three. A black sleek bob with a blunt fringe, maybe a bit like Cleopatra; a silver long bob which makes me feel like a Marvel super hero (I just need to wear my pants outside of my tights now...); and finally a pink shaggy bob which is so whacky and out there that I love it. That is definitely going to be my go-to wig as it is just so cheery 😀😀.
It was also funny as I tried on a wig which was close to my actual natural hair colour (mousey brown)... but it looked weird, boring and drab! I hated it. So not me at all lol.
Anyway... all of my wigs were purchased for me by my amazing parents.
(Which had I known in advance I would never have bloody chosen 3!!! 😝)
Mum and I had a really good chat about everything - my health and prospects, her health, my dad's health... stuff that is happening in my brother and sister's lives too... what are the potential things for the future, hopes and fears, work, weather, jokes and stresses... and actually I think that having a child that is sick must be a crappy thing for any parent - regardless of how old they are. 😔
Having cancer is not really just about me. It's also about how my loved ones cope with it all too.
When my dad had bladder cancer, he was the silent, stoical and a glass half empty character. Whereas I really am the polar extreme, talking about it openly, making (inappropriate) jokes, but also potentially being manically active and trying to ensure that everything and everyone around me is 'fine'. Poor mum is the main person who has to cope with the extreme difference between dad and I, and I don't think I appreciated probably how difficult that is for her too.
On the other hand, when dad and I speak, he has the same kind of humour that I do, so when we did pick him up after his procedure, I was quite happy to tease him by asking if he was walking like John Wayne for a reason, or did he just have a butt plug in.... (evil laugh... but he laughed too 😀😀😀)
Anyway, that afternoon, I got mum to re-check my dressing for me from the night before (see previous entry in regards to buying antiseptic wipes lol).
So turns out there may be a teensy bit more seepage. So, without being a drama queen, mum suggested I phoned the hospital, which I dutifully did, but actually they were not unduly concerned. They said it might just be that the skin has not quite knitted together, but if it looked like seepage following day then I was to phone back. (I actually hate making a fuss, and I am worried that the breast nurse will think I am a hypochondriac!)
After I left my parents I actually went to my normal hair appointment where I got my red colour touched up, and we spoke about the merits of shaving my head, and also my lovely hairdresser offered to cut and style wigs further if I needed it. So I left there quite buoyant and definitely still rocking my short, red and spiky 'natural hair' lol.
Oh - random aside - my beanie caps have arrived from Amazon. So aside from the fact that I think I look like a snooker ball when wearing them, they are actually really comfy - and they are great for making sure that for the first time ever, I don't stain the pillowcases after my hair appointment ... more silver linings 😀😀😀.
Anyway, the good news is that on Friday there was no obvious signs of seepage so I had a lazy morning and then went through to Glasgow for a catch up with my 'special person' to chew the fat about the ups and downs both in my life and theirs. (Reference to Greys Anatomy for the ill informed 😀)
The fact that alcohol was consumed and there was bluntness, humour and planning for the future made it quite an evening! (But blood oaths, secret societies and sisterhood of the travelling pants stuff, forbids me from revealing any more at this stage lol - no doubt it will all feature in future blogs lol.)
It's actually only on thinking back I have realised I have only been drinking shakes made by my new nutribullet, as opposed to eating solid food for a number of days. (Btw other gadgets and brands ARE available lol, this is not a sponsored endorsement!).
That's not a bad thing, as actually I make a pint at a time, and I am not actually hungry during the day. Maybe this detoxing thing and healthier food intake might actually be ok for me! I also think that maybe after all the xmas turkey, my body probably just screaming out for something simple lol.
My current smoothie mix consists of lettuce, cucumber, mint, grapes, kiwi and seed mix. Actually quite pleasant depending on how sludgy I make it 😀😀😀. But hoping that generally my skin will be better, I will start to lose belly (ok... all body) fat, and that overall I have more effective digestive system 😜.
Saturday was a bit of sad day. Attended my friend's mum funeral. Wished I could have done more to support her. Sitting beside some of the people I used to work with, who know about my current illness, I did experience some more of people's 'oops moments'. Ranging from sympathetic head tilt, through to stories of their family members dying of cancer... (!)
Anyway, going to funerals always make me consider my own mortality, and actually in my other blog, I rediscovered a story I wrote 3 years ago which was about me planning my own funeral in humorous overtones. I think maybe I will re-post it just to show people that it is ok to look on the bright side of life, even about death... jings, this could be turned into a Monty Python sketch.... oh wait, they already did lol. 😀😀
I am still getting pain from the surgery, but now I don't know if it's tingly sensations which means it's the nerve endings coming back to life after surgery, or wound pain when I maybe over stretch myself.
Again, from an observational point of view, the tumour site feels hard and lumpy, and not dissimilar to how it felt when it had the tumour in it... and feels bruised. It also has shooting pins and needles occasionally which are not particularly pleasant.
My lymph node incision is actually below the main part of my armpit.... that also feel lumpy but not particularly sore in itself. (When I lift my arm up and down, I feel like I can even make the scar go from straight faced to a smile 😐 - 😀)
My actual armpit appears to have gone completely numb. Too much oversharing, but I went to shave under my arms the other day as an experiment and I literally have NO feeling in my armpit. Now whilst this is quite funny and I could probably do tricks like "stick a pin in it and I bet I don't feel it", I am actually a tad concerned that may make it dangerous in case I do cut myself and leave myself open to infection... so will just have to return to waxing instead I think lol.
The top part of my arm just literally feels like someone has given me a dead arm. And that has a kind of dull ache to it.
However, it doesn't help that I have not really been keeping on top of my painkiller schedule.... but I do have fears about constipation again. But, several sources have now given me boxes of laxative powders, so I guess I just need to get into a regular routine - all puns intended lol.
The other issue I am still having is proper cold and hot sweats. I can't seem to control these and they are a nightmare! At first I thought they were caused by the cancer itself... and they probably were... but now it appears that the surgery may also have triggered more, as can some of the painkillers!
So basically I am fecked with my internal temperature at the moment. Harrumph. Just as well I have many sets of pjs and a good washing machine 😀.
Anyway I have spent time this week doing more research, and have actually signed up to go to a seminar in March for Younger Women with Breast Cancer. Effectively I meet the criteria as I am under 45, and there will discussion groups and talks, and potentially some intimate discussions with complete strangers.
When I looked into this further, it turns out I am in an elite and select bunch. Out of all UK breast cancer cases a year, only 5000 are diagnosed per year in women under 50. That's quite a low percentage so actually it does make me want to understand more about what I have, and what I can do about it.
And actually writing this blog and then looking through various LinkedIn furore recently about women who post inappropriate photos of themselves on a professional networking site (other people's views, not mine), I now feel compelled to write an article for LinkedIn myself.
I am thinking that I could look at what happens when personal and professional worlds collide, and actually tackling the stigma of how organisations deal with people who have cancer. All the articles on LinkedIn are about boosting profits, great leadership, maximising customer contact and developing visionary strategies... but I have never seen anything across there, or my professional institute about the culture / stigma / practices in dealing with someone with cancer (or other medium - long term health issue). So that may be my next little project in the next few weeks 😀😀😀.
Anyway... was actually hoping that I could get right through to Wednesday before I had anything else to write about, but as I have posted in FaceBoob updates on Sunday evening, 'wonky tit' has now transformed into 'leaky tit'...
I am absolutely fine, but my poor book club besties definitely got more than they bargained for when they ended up putting on an emergency dressing for me... (I should now start compiling a tally list of the number of people seeing my naked boobs!). In essence, I had taken off the final dressing on Sunday morning in order to make sure that the wound had a chance to breathe before I saw the surgeon on Wednesday.
As Friday and Saturday had looked ok, I didn't really think anything of it, and when I took the dressing off, there were a couple of bigger spots of pinkish / yellowish runny fluid on the dressing itself. All fine, it's like any scrape or cut. So I showered and put on one of the soft bras, and did things like nip out to get lunch stuff for book club coming over... absolutely normal stuff.
Well, over the course of catching up at book club, one of my friends had asked me about potential wound infection given what I had written in last week's blog. She herself had had infected wounds from an op previous, so knew what to look for. (We are very close, so I didn't mind showing naked boob... she is also my beautician, and seen all parts of me lol.)
Anyways... many hours after lunch (thankfully), I then did ask her to take a look, actually thinking that that would allay any of her concerns.
Well. I actually only got as far as lifting my t-shirt when I can only describe the feeling of gushing water came from my wound and ran down my tummy. (Probably was nothing more than a little dribble, but that's not what it felt like in my mind lol). At which point, both my friends kind of got startled and then jumped to get tissues to start mopping me up. (Honestly, I really think that through this whole cancer thing, my friendships with everyone may be tested at this rate lol!)
So, I ended up phoning NHS24 who then asked me to go to out of hours surgery at St John's in 2hrs time. Which was fine, and my friends jumped in the car to Tesco to go get me microporous tape. (I used to have literally everything in a well stocked first aid box - but I have clearly have not remembered to replenish - note for next shopping trip lol).
Anyway, they got me a large self adhesive dressing to at least keep me dry until my appointment....
So having got to the hospital and actually finding the out of hours surgery department, I saw a lovely Doctor, who firstly expressed surprise about the blue dye on my boob... she had never seen someone who is so close to surgery recovery to see the effects of the dye before lol. Always glad I can be of medical assistance 😀.
However, she then sought to reassure me that the clear fluid is normal from wounds, it is called serous fluid, and as I apparently may have previously burst a stitch and left a convenient drainage hole, she said there was no need for new stitches (thank feck as the last ones were done under general anaesthetic, and I REALLY don't like needles!!!)
Another positive is that had I not had a convenient drainage hole, the nurse may very well have had to draw off the excess fluid with a very big needle on Wednesday... so small mercies and silver linings indeed! 😀😀😀
Just to be on safe side the doc gave me antibiotics.... and put on a LOT of wound dressings.
Supposedly once the leakage starts oozing (love that word... so descriptive lol), it may become a little messy and moist 😜. She gave me 2 other ones away with me, a big one and a little one, which was all that A&E could spare me that night.
Got all the way through to Tuesday before I decided to go to my own medical practise to get new dressings.
I had a bit of squeamish moment at lunchtime that day, when I decided that I should really take off the gigantic boob covering dressing which the hospital had put on me.
However, when I took it off, I don't know if it was because I was squeamish, or whether it's because actually quite a lot of yucky stuff that came out, but I had to go lie down for 30 mins as I had that whole grey/sweaty/hot/cold feeling come over me.
I then dragged myself into the shower and chided myself for being so ridiculous. Heavens above I used to be a qualified first aider and could put stitches in people!!!
Anyway... putting on the new dressing given to me by the hospital, it turns out it was really too small for my wound... so I improvised and put it on like a diamond shape in order to cover the wound as much as possible. However also discovered that this much effort absolutely drains my energy - so ended up having to sit still for another hour to let queasiness subside. This is going to be pants if I keep feeling like this dealing with my dressings 😢.
Decided to walk up to the doctors with one of friends, and went in to ask the nurses if I could get some dressings. Well, to say that I was treated with absolute disdain is an understatement. They were furious that the hospital had told me "just to pop in to my local surgery to pick up dressings".... oops 😢.
I did actually apologise and said I wasn't aware that I should have made an appointment, and I then clearly irritated them when I didn't know what dressings I had on, so whilst I was being spoken to like a naughty child, the nurse then said I had to follow her so she check the dressing for herself.
Anyway once I showed her my wound and explained it was my tumour site, she did at least change her tune, but still asked exactly how many I needed, and when I was going back the the hospital... (Don't get me wrong, I know they work out of different budgets, but I was only asking for a few dressings seeing as I had pink fluid leaking out of me!)
When she asked me when my surgery was and I had said just before xmas, she said how terrible that was, and then went onto say that horrible things always happens in threes.... and then she caught herself and apologised... (clearly because operation and leaky boob only make two maybe...?)
Anyway.... I got 2 dressings. One for Tuesday evening... and one for Wednesday morning before I go to the hospital lol.
On the way home, my GP actually phoned me to see how I was doing. This is the GP who originally it was convinced it was a cyst lol. Anyway she is lovely, and I explained what had happened so far (she wasn't aware of my trip to hospital on Sunday yet.... computers not updated lol).
Interestingly, when I told her all that the surgeon had told me from diagnosis day, she actually expressed surprise that I was told so much. Maybe it was because I did ask so many questions lol. Or maybe surgeons take an assessment of how much information individual patients can take in?
I then went on to tell her what I was expecting from my appointment on the following day...
I then asked her what the hospital had actually told her - basically all she had had was the letter that I had handed in from the hospital which advised I had lump removal and lymph node dissection. Which I suppose is technically correct, but I kind of think that this is where the separation of hospitals vs local surgeries is going to become apparent. Which might be a bit awkward when I need to go get regular blood tests taken, as I am relying on them to actually speak to each other!
Either way, she asked me to update her on what was then discussed the following day. No pressure then lol.
On the upside, I have been keeping busy this week.... I have been helping different people with cv's, preparing difficult questions for a friend's business pitch, and I have even downloaded jigsaws for when my brain just needs to do something but I can't concentrate too much.
I have also continued my research to be absolutely prepared for all eventualities... but will only deal in facts of any diagnoses. Best way to be 😀😀😀.
Anyway, I finish this week's blog off in the morning before I go to my appointment at noon. It's a good distraction. Especially as the mains water has been turned off, and I am trying not to think about what happens when I need to go to the toilet lol.
Just as well mum is on her way over - a great excuse to go for early cake. And toilet. 😀😀😀
Write more later!
Wednesday, 11 January 2017
Wednesday, 4 January 2017
Weeks 5 & 6: Post-surgery shenanigans...
Weeks 5 and 6: Friday 23 December 2016 - Wednesday 04 January 2017
So... the two weeks following my surgery were mixed.
Christmas Day my parents came across, alongside my brother and his family, and I wasn't allowed to lift a finger. I had decided to only take ibuprofen and paracetamol that day as I really wanted to have at least one alcoholic drink, and all seemed to go well. The only downside is that I kept falling asleep on the couch, and even managed to sleep through the small fallings out that go alongside playing any party games at xmas.
I felt on relatively good form, and even managed to do karaoke with my niece in the evening before falling into bed and taking one of the über strong painkillers.
The next morning I felt a bit grey and sweaty, but my parents stayed around and between them and my husband, had made breakfast and sat on the couch chilling. With me falling asleep again.
We had promised to go across to my mother in law's in the evening to go and see our brand new baby niece... and I was adamant I was going. With hindsight (that wonderful thing!), I have to admit that perhaps being driven in the back seat of a car across town with 2 dogs sitting on my knee was maybe not the best idea I ever had.
But actually I now know it was probably a lot to do with the diahydrocodeine that I was taking more than anything... clearly me and Class B drugs do not agree with one another! However they were the only painkiller which was taking the edge off the pain which had come to me with a vengeance overnight on xmas night.
The other joys which I have experienced aside from the ongoing insomnia.... proper night sweats. Really not comfortable and I have to sleep in spare room, with window open, duvet flung back and drinking loads of water.
And clearly a painful arm from where they sliced under my armpit to take the lymph node out.
The thing is, I actually have good range of movement in my arm so I am not worried about it stiffening up, but the top of my inner arm is actually numb like a dead arm.
Also... when I first came out of hospital I didn't bother wearing a bra, given the tumour was on the underside of one breast... however, that first night with no bra was torture.... when I turned over, the weight of my unsupported breast actually must have pulled on the stitches as I actually woke up with a gasp of pain. This was cue for my lovely mum to go out and buy me sleeping / training bras to give me some support whilst not cutting into me.
(Funny story - one of the activities on xmas day was actually bastardising one of my bras and removing the underwire from it, to make a temporary support for me... my mum as ever is very creative in the face of adversity!)
Along the way I actually decided to google 'boob sling'. (You know that funny joke my mum made on diagnosis day?)
In the UK., this will generally take you to shopping sites that sell peep hole bras.... however, in the US, there is actually a single manufacturer of a boob sling! So I ordered one lol. It looks like a strange contraption, however, it was designed by a breast cancer survivor, who had quite bad radiation burns during radio therapy that she found it difficult to wear a bra. So whilst I will not be wearing it immediately, I do actually think it will be helpful when it comes to radio therapy time, as it allows air to circulate under the breast, and given that was my tumour site, then this all sounds like a hoot!
(Never fear, I will not post pictures, but if anyone wants to see it, it's available at www.comfortslings.com)
I also had to laugh... the Paypal site was not working for me, so I emailed the company directly asking how best to pay, and I got an email back from the founder herself, telling me her story, and asking me to keep in touch.... my mum remains astounded that I can get chatting to anyone, anywhere lol.
Anyway, the days following xmas were relatively quiet - had a few visitors, and then I literally had 2 days of doing nothing but sleep. I am not normally the type of person that can sit and do nothing, but actually I can't ever remember sleeping this much ever. My mum keeps reminding me that I have had major surgery and to learn to chill... but I just feel lazy and like I am wasting my days!
Anyway, on the Thursday I decided to try out my driving ability, given that it had been a week since the op. I got on fine, and actually went into my hairdressers to change my appointment, get the discount vouchers and also start speaking about me having cancer. They were good about it actually, and I was quite ok talking about it.
The following day I went to panto in Glasgow. And I 'might' have just pushed myself too far that day. It had been the longest I had been awake for all week, and on top of the tiredness, I also was beginning to feel queasy with pain, and also had a sore back. Anyway... I came home and my mother in law was in. I sat down to chat and such extreme pain came over me, that I thought I was going to be ill or pass out.
At that point, that's when I realised I had not gone to the toilet for a bowel movement for almost a week. And it's also when I discovered what real constipation is.😨😨😨
I actually started to panic as I had no idea initially what was wrong with me. But then realisation dawned, and it was horrible. Anyway, without the graphic details, I ended up having to take laxatives, and I spent the whole next day being a grey, sweaty, shivering wreck again. I then realised that this was because of the super strong painkillers 😢.
So... I then took the decision that I was going to minimise use of those ones to taking them just at night to help me sleep for the first hour, and during the day, just take paracetamol and ibuprofen again. I know it didn't really hit the mark, but at least something was better than nothing. And I was also using sleep to combat everything too.
Anyway, another party hosted at my house on Hogmanay, and New Years Day, and people left around lunchtime on the 2nd. I was more awake for this weekend of celebrations, and even managed to cook breakfast on New Years morning after taking the dogs out for a walk. However, come dinner time, I then bowed to tiredness and let the mothers do the cooking as I actually retired to bed.
My mum also had the dubious pleasure of changing my dressings when she stayed over - all going well, even if my boob is still partially blue 😀. The whole area is still quite swollen and tender, but that's normal after surgery.... anyway, after speaking to the breast nurse, all dressings have to come off on Wednesday / Thursday anyhow so I will get mum to do that then too.
Had been googling chemo hats, wigs and scarves over the last few weeks, but mum and I went shopping on the 3rd, and I ended up getting a hat that makes me look like Mary Poppins ("Practically perfect in every way" pmsl), and a funky headscarf that I had already checked on YouTube how to tie. I also then came home and ordered some more scarves and a couple of the soft beanie hats for sleeping in. I am, if nothing else, going to be prepared 😀.
However.... last night I then hit a huge emotional slump. Even though it was completely my choice to go shopping and get those items, it is now becoming real that I am going to lose my hair. Being honest, there were tears and a 'woe is me' moment.
Which I know is probably irrational, but it's like that the whole cancer thing has hit me properly for the first time. This shit is actually real. I am going to get sick with the horrible medicine in order for me to be healthy again. And I am going to lose my hair.
I had a whole meltdown about being able to recognise myself... and how I would be perceived by others... and how I will cope with the range of reactions towards me.
Does it make me less of a woman? Does it matter? Should I even care if the end goal is that I am going to be alive. Given that I already overanalyse a bazillion things at once in my every day life, taking this all in at once was a bit like a sledgehammer.
Anyway... after about 20 minutes of wallowing, I told myself to pull it together and focus. These are going to be challenging times, and I have to learn that this whole thing will be a rollercoaster. I have already been snippy with the people closest to me, and overly blunt with other people when I probably don't need to be. So I feel there may be some apologies in order already 😔. I should really start a list. 😔
New day though ... after another crappy night's sleep, I decided that I needed to de-clutter my mind a little bit, so decided to start spring cleaning the house. The bathrooms all got seen to, and I washed all the floors and skirting boards, whilst all the beds got changed and xmas decorations removed too.
I felt better after that, although now I am thinking I need to clean out the cooker, and I want to clean out all the drawers properly too... so all in good time 😀. I do need to learn to pace myself lol.
Then headed across at my parents today... staying over as I am accompanying dad to his hospital appointment tomorrow.
In order to take my dressings and steri strips off properly, mum and I went on a shopping search to find antiseptic wipes. And boy, that was a laugh 😀.
Went to the pharmacy counter at Sainsbury's Loanhead and I asked if they had any antiseptic wipes. To which the woman can only be described as rude and patronising replied "oh no, not in this pharmacy - try the store"... and bent her head back down to reading what looked like a magazine.
Well, to say that mum was incensed is an understatement. She was absolutely furious and sounded like she was muttering incantations under her breath! I did think that maybe with hindsight I could have asked to speak to the pharmacist directly, and equally the woman maybe thought I was meaning antiseptic wipes for cleaning the house...
Anyway, we then went to Boots and I bought 2 boxes to be on the safe side 😀😀😀.
The big dressing under my armpit came away looking fine - it's a bit lumpy and bumpy and still swollen, but mum says that stitches look fine. And then we took the dressing off the tumour site and mum kind of peered closely and winced a bit.
It may be that I have burst a stitch and there has been seepage. And mum is not sure if that could be a wee infection in the wound. Anyhow... a dry dressing was then applied to it, and when I am at the Western tomorrow I can ask if one of the nurses could take a look at it in case I need to phone / visit St John's.
Hopefully it will all be nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe spring cleaning this morning was not such a good idea - but I didn't use my bad arm! Oh well... no point in panicking. If it's infected they will give me antibiotics.
So... that's all up to date so far. The next week brings a few things... I am going to visit a wig shop tomorrow, as well as check on my wounds, and then I am off to the hairdressers for what will likely be the last of my 'normal' hair appointments. Sadly I am also at a funeral on Saturday. I absolutely will go and support my friend through the loss of her mum, but I also realise that some of my former team members from a previous job will be there... they know about me having cancer, but I am not sure how they will actually be towards me... and then Wednesday of next week I get my results.
Big week ahead. Must remember to try not be narky. May spend a lot of time in bed reading lol. I know I must be stressed about what the results will say, but I also know there is no point worrying about something I cannot control. I will be taken care of by some of the best specialists in the country. I am just maybe not looking forward to it.
But... positive thinking. I will be around for another 40 years to hug and bug everyone 😀😀😀
So... the two weeks following my surgery were mixed.
Christmas Day my parents came across, alongside my brother and his family, and I wasn't allowed to lift a finger. I had decided to only take ibuprofen and paracetamol that day as I really wanted to have at least one alcoholic drink, and all seemed to go well. The only downside is that I kept falling asleep on the couch, and even managed to sleep through the small fallings out that go alongside playing any party games at xmas.
I felt on relatively good form, and even managed to do karaoke with my niece in the evening before falling into bed and taking one of the über strong painkillers.
The next morning I felt a bit grey and sweaty, but my parents stayed around and between them and my husband, had made breakfast and sat on the couch chilling. With me falling asleep again.
We had promised to go across to my mother in law's in the evening to go and see our brand new baby niece... and I was adamant I was going. With hindsight (that wonderful thing!), I have to admit that perhaps being driven in the back seat of a car across town with 2 dogs sitting on my knee was maybe not the best idea I ever had.
But actually I now know it was probably a lot to do with the diahydrocodeine that I was taking more than anything... clearly me and Class B drugs do not agree with one another! However they were the only painkiller which was taking the edge off the pain which had come to me with a vengeance overnight on xmas night.
The other joys which I have experienced aside from the ongoing insomnia.... proper night sweats. Really not comfortable and I have to sleep in spare room, with window open, duvet flung back and drinking loads of water.
And clearly a painful arm from where they sliced under my armpit to take the lymph node out.
The thing is, I actually have good range of movement in my arm so I am not worried about it stiffening up, but the top of my inner arm is actually numb like a dead arm.
Also... when I first came out of hospital I didn't bother wearing a bra, given the tumour was on the underside of one breast... however, that first night with no bra was torture.... when I turned over, the weight of my unsupported breast actually must have pulled on the stitches as I actually woke up with a gasp of pain. This was cue for my lovely mum to go out and buy me sleeping / training bras to give me some support whilst not cutting into me.
(Funny story - one of the activities on xmas day was actually bastardising one of my bras and removing the underwire from it, to make a temporary support for me... my mum as ever is very creative in the face of adversity!)
Along the way I actually decided to google 'boob sling'. (You know that funny joke my mum made on diagnosis day?)
In the UK., this will generally take you to shopping sites that sell peep hole bras.... however, in the US, there is actually a single manufacturer of a boob sling! So I ordered one lol. It looks like a strange contraption, however, it was designed by a breast cancer survivor, who had quite bad radiation burns during radio therapy that she found it difficult to wear a bra. So whilst I will not be wearing it immediately, I do actually think it will be helpful when it comes to radio therapy time, as it allows air to circulate under the breast, and given that was my tumour site, then this all sounds like a hoot!
(Never fear, I will not post pictures, but if anyone wants to see it, it's available at www.comfortslings.com)
I also had to laugh... the Paypal site was not working for me, so I emailed the company directly asking how best to pay, and I got an email back from the founder herself, telling me her story, and asking me to keep in touch.... my mum remains astounded that I can get chatting to anyone, anywhere lol.
Anyway, the days following xmas were relatively quiet - had a few visitors, and then I literally had 2 days of doing nothing but sleep. I am not normally the type of person that can sit and do nothing, but actually I can't ever remember sleeping this much ever. My mum keeps reminding me that I have had major surgery and to learn to chill... but I just feel lazy and like I am wasting my days!
Anyway, on the Thursday I decided to try out my driving ability, given that it had been a week since the op. I got on fine, and actually went into my hairdressers to change my appointment, get the discount vouchers and also start speaking about me having cancer. They were good about it actually, and I was quite ok talking about it.
The following day I went to panto in Glasgow. And I 'might' have just pushed myself too far that day. It had been the longest I had been awake for all week, and on top of the tiredness, I also was beginning to feel queasy with pain, and also had a sore back. Anyway... I came home and my mother in law was in. I sat down to chat and such extreme pain came over me, that I thought I was going to be ill or pass out.
At that point, that's when I realised I had not gone to the toilet for a bowel movement for almost a week. And it's also when I discovered what real constipation is.😨😨😨
I actually started to panic as I had no idea initially what was wrong with me. But then realisation dawned, and it was horrible. Anyway, without the graphic details, I ended up having to take laxatives, and I spent the whole next day being a grey, sweaty, shivering wreck again. I then realised that this was because of the super strong painkillers 😢.
So... I then took the decision that I was going to minimise use of those ones to taking them just at night to help me sleep for the first hour, and during the day, just take paracetamol and ibuprofen again. I know it didn't really hit the mark, but at least something was better than nothing. And I was also using sleep to combat everything too.
Anyway, another party hosted at my house on Hogmanay, and New Years Day, and people left around lunchtime on the 2nd. I was more awake for this weekend of celebrations, and even managed to cook breakfast on New Years morning after taking the dogs out for a walk. However, come dinner time, I then bowed to tiredness and let the mothers do the cooking as I actually retired to bed.
My mum also had the dubious pleasure of changing my dressings when she stayed over - all going well, even if my boob is still partially blue 😀. The whole area is still quite swollen and tender, but that's normal after surgery.... anyway, after speaking to the breast nurse, all dressings have to come off on Wednesday / Thursday anyhow so I will get mum to do that then too.
Had been googling chemo hats, wigs and scarves over the last few weeks, but mum and I went shopping on the 3rd, and I ended up getting a hat that makes me look like Mary Poppins ("Practically perfect in every way" pmsl), and a funky headscarf that I had already checked on YouTube how to tie. I also then came home and ordered some more scarves and a couple of the soft beanie hats for sleeping in. I am, if nothing else, going to be prepared 😀.
However.... last night I then hit a huge emotional slump. Even though it was completely my choice to go shopping and get those items, it is now becoming real that I am going to lose my hair. Being honest, there were tears and a 'woe is me' moment.
Which I know is probably irrational, but it's like that the whole cancer thing has hit me properly for the first time. This shit is actually real. I am going to get sick with the horrible medicine in order for me to be healthy again. And I am going to lose my hair.
I had a whole meltdown about being able to recognise myself... and how I would be perceived by others... and how I will cope with the range of reactions towards me.
Does it make me less of a woman? Does it matter? Should I even care if the end goal is that I am going to be alive. Given that I already overanalyse a bazillion things at once in my every day life, taking this all in at once was a bit like a sledgehammer.
Anyway... after about 20 minutes of wallowing, I told myself to pull it together and focus. These are going to be challenging times, and I have to learn that this whole thing will be a rollercoaster. I have already been snippy with the people closest to me, and overly blunt with other people when I probably don't need to be. So I feel there may be some apologies in order already 😔. I should really start a list. 😔
New day though ... after another crappy night's sleep, I decided that I needed to de-clutter my mind a little bit, so decided to start spring cleaning the house. The bathrooms all got seen to, and I washed all the floors and skirting boards, whilst all the beds got changed and xmas decorations removed too.
I felt better after that, although now I am thinking I need to clean out the cooker, and I want to clean out all the drawers properly too... so all in good time 😀. I do need to learn to pace myself lol.
Then headed across at my parents today... staying over as I am accompanying dad to his hospital appointment tomorrow.
In order to take my dressings and steri strips off properly, mum and I went on a shopping search to find antiseptic wipes. And boy, that was a laugh 😀.
Went to the pharmacy counter at Sainsbury's Loanhead and I asked if they had any antiseptic wipes. To which the woman can only be described as rude and patronising replied "oh no, not in this pharmacy - try the store"... and bent her head back down to reading what looked like a magazine.
Well, to say that mum was incensed is an understatement. She was absolutely furious and sounded like she was muttering incantations under her breath! I did think that maybe with hindsight I could have asked to speak to the pharmacist directly, and equally the woman maybe thought I was meaning antiseptic wipes for cleaning the house...
Anyway, we then went to Boots and I bought 2 boxes to be on the safe side 😀😀😀.
The big dressing under my armpit came away looking fine - it's a bit lumpy and bumpy and still swollen, but mum says that stitches look fine. And then we took the dressing off the tumour site and mum kind of peered closely and winced a bit.
It may be that I have burst a stitch and there has been seepage. And mum is not sure if that could be a wee infection in the wound. Anyhow... a dry dressing was then applied to it, and when I am at the Western tomorrow I can ask if one of the nurses could take a look at it in case I need to phone / visit St John's.
Hopefully it will all be nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe spring cleaning this morning was not such a good idea - but I didn't use my bad arm! Oh well... no point in panicking. If it's infected they will give me antibiotics.
So... that's all up to date so far. The next week brings a few things... I am going to visit a wig shop tomorrow, as well as check on my wounds, and then I am off to the hairdressers for what will likely be the last of my 'normal' hair appointments. Sadly I am also at a funeral on Saturday. I absolutely will go and support my friend through the loss of her mum, but I also realise that some of my former team members from a previous job will be there... they know about me having cancer, but I am not sure how they will actually be towards me... and then Wednesday of next week I get my results.
Big week ahead. Must remember to try not be narky. May spend a lot of time in bed reading lol. I know I must be stressed about what the results will say, but I also know there is no point worrying about something I cannot control. I will be taken care of by some of the best specialists in the country. I am just maybe not looking forward to it.
But... positive thinking. I will be around for another 40 years to hug and bug everyone 😀😀😀
Week 5: Getting surgery...
Week 5: Friday 23 - Friday 30 December 2016
Ok this is another blog which really just covers two days as it covers the day of my surgery. (Things did not quite go to plan on the whole one day surgery thing lol)
Having arrived at the hospital at 7.15am, we discovered that the main car park was closed... but we got into side car park after buzzing the guard lol (not good for anxious patients or drivers methinks!!)
Then had to go to the day surgery reception.... who took my paperwork and sent me to another reception...
(A la "Follow the yellow brick road"... except in my case it was the red arrow!)
Then another small wait as the collection of patients were waiting to see whose staff nurse's list we were on.... once I got taken through, I was placed in a group of 4 beds on my own. Felt a bit strange as other people were placed in groups, but I actually then reckoned that maybe a bit of solitude possibly good as it meant I could start writing my blogs properly.
Had to sit in my own clothes, and kind of felt awkward just sitting on the hospital chair - it was not particularly comfortable so I then decided just to kick my shoes off and sit on the bed wearing my normal clothes, but with my dressing gown over me like a blanket - man, that ward was chilly with the window open!
Anyway, getting checked in, I had blood pressure taken (actually normal lol), and had name tapes put on both my wrists (in case I either lose one, or perhaps they are bi polar?).
I also had an allergy tape on one wrist for fish / seafood, and thankfully they asked how I react to general anaesthetic (normally badly 😱)... so I had to tell the anaesthetist to get a special cocktail 😜.
I was told that I was mid - late on the operations list, but to sit about in my own clothes till they told me to get ready... no bad thing as I had the hospital backless gown and medical stockings to wear for surgery... sexy they are definitely not!
Surgeon came to visit me to go through what I was to expect and to sign consent forms. What I hadn't expected is that the blue dye injection was going in through my nipple! Even now it makes me cringe... even though clearly I was asleep lol.
(Purpose of the blue dye was to trace where my sentinel lymph node was, to allow easy removal for biopsy.)
I also had to laugh. Apart from marking me with dots again around the tumour, the surgeon also wrote on top of my breast what the op actually was. I know I was on a conveyer belt of slicing and dicing, but slightly disconcerting that they require instructions to double check!!! (Although I suppose also reassuring lol.)
After this, the anaesthetist came to see me - a very cheery lady who said that there were many people to get through that day... but she promised to do her best for me not to make me sick so I was happy 😀.
Around about 11am I got told to get changed... so I did that in all of about 5 mins, and sent quick text to loved ones saying that was me heading in. I switched off and packed away all my stuff to be neat and tidy. Then waited. And waited. And waited. For about 45 minutes.
I thought they had forgotten me, and I didn't want to make a fuss, but the 3.5hrs spent reading and blogging had went by in a flash compared to 45 minutes doing nothing other than watching the clock, the orderlies rushing about and the cleaners.
Anyway at last my time arrived. I actually thought I would be walking to surgery as that was what letter had said, it instead I got wheeled about 20 feet along a corridor and into the waiting area which I think was meant for children... was covered in jungle book type montage.... I was only there for about 5 minutes when I had somebody else come and whisk me down to the pre-op area where they attach wires, raise your veins for the cannula, and administer the anaesthetic. (All whilst asking me to confirm my name and date of birth at each stage lol.)
I remember thinking that it was like 'Grey's Anatomy' as they were playing loud rock music in the theatre... but then the 3 people preparing me at pre-op were like synchronised ninjas and I didn't even realise I was going to sleep.
(Previous ops I was always aware of the anaesthetic travelling up my arm before I passed out, but this team were busy attaching electrodes, tapping my veins, squeezing my fists and inserting cannulas all at the same time honest I think it was just like sensory overload in a good way!)
Anyway... I came to, maybe 3hrs later - the recovery room nurse was trying to get me to take sips of water. I just remember her face was kind of in a haze as she put the straw in my mouth.
Next time I kind of woke up, the breast cancer nurse had popped by to give me a wee comfort cushion to put under my left armpit where the surgery had taken place... also somewhat hazy but I was aware that I was back in the ward by that point.
The third time I woke up, it was the anaesthetist, who was just popping by to see if I was ok and to make sure I had not been sick... and I hadn't 😀😀😀. She also ordered another warm IV drip for me too, to make doubly sure I would not be.
And then finally, the surgeon popped by to explain that all had went well, he had a quick check of the wounds, and said he would see me in 3 weeks time....
So... all was going swimmingly.
Woo hoo!!!
Back to full wakefulness and getting the medical staff life stories and gossip about their Xmas nights out 😄.
It is amazing what 2 cups of tea, a wee sandwich and a couple of biscuits can do for a woman... perhaps not to mention the potential Class A drugs that made me think of fairy dust and unicorns 😄.
(That wasn't actually the drugs talking by the way... just wanted to make you all smile lol)
Was told I would still have to face the indignity of having to go pee with medical staff watching... but I will save any embarrassment by NOT sharing anything to do with that 😄😄😄. (Thankfully I did actually manage to go pee in private.... and it was actually blue!!!)
I was given exercises to do once I got home, (it's like yoga for dummies - no derogatory comments please!) and I had the potential for further drug taking depending on what they decided to give me away with me.
Also got given my sick line up to results day in January... still plan to take everything in stages.... but definitely looking on this as extended Christmas holiday time 😄😄😄.
It is funny what went through my mind though... like, I won't be able to wear deodorant for next wee while on my left side.... so that means I might be half smelly and half not... how to make a girl paranoid lol!
Also...idea of wearing a bra currently possibly not feasible, so the theme song that came to mind is "Swing low, sweet chariot..."
Also... my mum had previously suggested on diagnosis day that I may have to consider getting some kind of boob sling (on the basis that bras are not going to be comfortable to wear)... I don't even know if those things even exist or how they would even work... but in my mind all I can picture is the handkerchief that Oor Wullie tied around his face when he had toothache ... you know with the big knot on top of his head.....
Only I was picturing a much bigger one to put under my boobs.... maybe a temporary chest lift? 😄😄😄
Anyway.... I was at the point of being all excited as the end was in sight.... when I fainted.
Cue the medical team rushing around, putting me back on the bed and taking blood pressure. Which had dipped quite low supposedly. So cue the oxygen mask too.
To cut a long story short, I ended up being kept in overnight unexpectedly. I got wheeled up to another ward, where the inmates were watching Coronation Street 😂😂😂. But I stuck my headphones on and tried to relax and make my blood pressure return to normal through positive thinking. It didn't.
So an overnight in hospital was indeed confirmed, and I have to say I had little to no sleep all night. My fellow inmates were actually lovely though, and the lady in the bed next to me was telling me about her cancer journey - mastectomy on one breast, then a reduction on the other side... in total it had taken 3.5 years, and a whole lot of pain from the liposuction, but that the following day she would be walking out on cancer treatment and surgery for the last time...
She also talked about her previous high flying finance career, which she then swapped for a less stressful job, as the one thing which can also set back recovery is stress. She was also very upfront and honest and offered to show me her scars on her front and back to help me understand what I might be facing in the future... although we never did get to that stage...
But again, she was full of hints and tips on how to deal with various aspects that you may never get anywhere else.... actually the whole thing turned into a bit like a grown up slumber party 😀.
The one thing I did learn was that the nurses were very good at making sure that I was in no pain. I actually had no idea what I was taking at that point, but every time they came with little plastic pots with pills in them, I just swallowed them like an obedient child. With hindsight I think this was a good thing as I really did not feel very much at all from the surgery sites.
The next morning there was some very cheery / militant nurses who were trying to get us out of bed by 7am in order to strip the beds... we got told to sit in the bedside chairs, but actually after 30 minutes of no action, and because I was feeling that hot, sickly, sweaty feeling of a fainting episode coming on... I just got back into the bed and stayed put. And once I was back in the bed, the others went back into their beds too.
(Always a trend setter lol... or maybe I am just a rebel 😀)
Anyway, the doctors came on their rounds, and the one checking me basically pressed the dressings against the 2 wounds to check for seepage.... at which point I thought I was going to literally hit the ceiling. So they noted that I was a bit swollen and tender, and needed my dressings changed... (the amount of swear words going through my head at that point really would have made a trooper blush!)
But as I was adamant I was getting out, I waited until the dressings were changed and then I got into my own clothes and waited for my lift to arrive.
I actually did feel a bit sweaty and faint like, but I would not admit that to anyone - as technically I could put it down to tiredness and I really just wanted my own bed.
Anyway, after texting the world to say I was alive and out of hospital... I slept. A lot. A pretty boring Christmas Eve, but I was chuffed with the fact that I had had the surgery, hadn't been sick, and that they had issued me with a bag of various painkillers to see me through the next week or so. So... success all round. 😀😀😀
Surgery really wasn't as bad as everybody thought it was going to be. In fact, really it wasn't any more complicated than when I got my wisdom teeth out years previously. Silver linings and small mercies 😀😀😀- I was going to be ok for xmas entertaining!
Ok this is another blog which really just covers two days as it covers the day of my surgery. (Things did not quite go to plan on the whole one day surgery thing lol)
Having arrived at the hospital at 7.15am, we discovered that the main car park was closed... but we got into side car park after buzzing the guard lol (not good for anxious patients or drivers methinks!!)
Then had to go to the day surgery reception.... who took my paperwork and sent me to another reception...
(A la "Follow the yellow brick road"... except in my case it was the red arrow!)
Then another small wait as the collection of patients were waiting to see whose staff nurse's list we were on.... once I got taken through, I was placed in a group of 4 beds on my own. Felt a bit strange as other people were placed in groups, but I actually then reckoned that maybe a bit of solitude possibly good as it meant I could start writing my blogs properly.
Had to sit in my own clothes, and kind of felt awkward just sitting on the hospital chair - it was not particularly comfortable so I then decided just to kick my shoes off and sit on the bed wearing my normal clothes, but with my dressing gown over me like a blanket - man, that ward was chilly with the window open!
Anyway, getting checked in, I had blood pressure taken (actually normal lol), and had name tapes put on both my wrists (in case I either lose one, or perhaps they are bi polar?).
I also had an allergy tape on one wrist for fish / seafood, and thankfully they asked how I react to general anaesthetic (normally badly 😱)... so I had to tell the anaesthetist to get a special cocktail 😜.
I was told that I was mid - late on the operations list, but to sit about in my own clothes till they told me to get ready... no bad thing as I had the hospital backless gown and medical stockings to wear for surgery... sexy they are definitely not!
Surgeon came to visit me to go through what I was to expect and to sign consent forms. What I hadn't expected is that the blue dye injection was going in through my nipple! Even now it makes me cringe... even though clearly I was asleep lol.
(Purpose of the blue dye was to trace where my sentinel lymph node was, to allow easy removal for biopsy.)
I also had to laugh. Apart from marking me with dots again around the tumour, the surgeon also wrote on top of my breast what the op actually was. I know I was on a conveyer belt of slicing and dicing, but slightly disconcerting that they require instructions to double check!!! (Although I suppose also reassuring lol.)
After this, the anaesthetist came to see me - a very cheery lady who said that there were many people to get through that day... but she promised to do her best for me not to make me sick so I was happy 😀.
Around about 11am I got told to get changed... so I did that in all of about 5 mins, and sent quick text to loved ones saying that was me heading in. I switched off and packed away all my stuff to be neat and tidy. Then waited. And waited. And waited. For about 45 minutes.
I thought they had forgotten me, and I didn't want to make a fuss, but the 3.5hrs spent reading and blogging had went by in a flash compared to 45 minutes doing nothing other than watching the clock, the orderlies rushing about and the cleaners.
Anyway at last my time arrived. I actually thought I would be walking to surgery as that was what letter had said, it instead I got wheeled about 20 feet along a corridor and into the waiting area which I think was meant for children... was covered in jungle book type montage.... I was only there for about 5 minutes when I had somebody else come and whisk me down to the pre-op area where they attach wires, raise your veins for the cannula, and administer the anaesthetic. (All whilst asking me to confirm my name and date of birth at each stage lol.)
I remember thinking that it was like 'Grey's Anatomy' as they were playing loud rock music in the theatre... but then the 3 people preparing me at pre-op were like synchronised ninjas and I didn't even realise I was going to sleep.
(Previous ops I was always aware of the anaesthetic travelling up my arm before I passed out, but this team were busy attaching electrodes, tapping my veins, squeezing my fists and inserting cannulas all at the same time honest I think it was just like sensory overload in a good way!)
Anyway... I came to, maybe 3hrs later - the recovery room nurse was trying to get me to take sips of water. I just remember her face was kind of in a haze as she put the straw in my mouth.
Next time I kind of woke up, the breast cancer nurse had popped by to give me a wee comfort cushion to put under my left armpit where the surgery had taken place... also somewhat hazy but I was aware that I was back in the ward by that point.
The third time I woke up, it was the anaesthetist, who was just popping by to see if I was ok and to make sure I had not been sick... and I hadn't 😀😀😀. She also ordered another warm IV drip for me too, to make doubly sure I would not be.
And then finally, the surgeon popped by to explain that all had went well, he had a quick check of the wounds, and said he would see me in 3 weeks time....
So... all was going swimmingly.
Woo hoo!!!
Back to full wakefulness and getting the medical staff life stories and gossip about their Xmas nights out 😄.
It is amazing what 2 cups of tea, a wee sandwich and a couple of biscuits can do for a woman... perhaps not to mention the potential Class A drugs that made me think of fairy dust and unicorns 😄.
(That wasn't actually the drugs talking by the way... just wanted to make you all smile lol)
Was told I would still have to face the indignity of having to go pee with medical staff watching... but I will save any embarrassment by NOT sharing anything to do with that 😄😄😄. (Thankfully I did actually manage to go pee in private.... and it was actually blue!!!)
I was given exercises to do once I got home, (it's like yoga for dummies - no derogatory comments please!) and I had the potential for further drug taking depending on what they decided to give me away with me.
Also got given my sick line up to results day in January... still plan to take everything in stages.... but definitely looking on this as extended Christmas holiday time 😄😄😄.
It is funny what went through my mind though... like, I won't be able to wear deodorant for next wee while on my left side.... so that means I might be half smelly and half not... how to make a girl paranoid lol!
Also...idea of wearing a bra currently possibly not feasible, so the theme song that came to mind is "Swing low, sweet chariot..."
Also... my mum had previously suggested on diagnosis day that I may have to consider getting some kind of boob sling (on the basis that bras are not going to be comfortable to wear)... I don't even know if those things even exist or how they would even work... but in my mind all I can picture is the handkerchief that Oor Wullie tied around his face when he had toothache ... you know with the big knot on top of his head.....
Only I was picturing a much bigger one to put under my boobs.... maybe a temporary chest lift? 😄😄😄
Anyway.... I was at the point of being all excited as the end was in sight.... when I fainted.
Cue the medical team rushing around, putting me back on the bed and taking blood pressure. Which had dipped quite low supposedly. So cue the oxygen mask too.
To cut a long story short, I ended up being kept in overnight unexpectedly. I got wheeled up to another ward, where the inmates were watching Coronation Street 😂😂😂. But I stuck my headphones on and tried to relax and make my blood pressure return to normal through positive thinking. It didn't.
So an overnight in hospital was indeed confirmed, and I have to say I had little to no sleep all night. My fellow inmates were actually lovely though, and the lady in the bed next to me was telling me about her cancer journey - mastectomy on one breast, then a reduction on the other side... in total it had taken 3.5 years, and a whole lot of pain from the liposuction, but that the following day she would be walking out on cancer treatment and surgery for the last time...
She also talked about her previous high flying finance career, which she then swapped for a less stressful job, as the one thing which can also set back recovery is stress. She was also very upfront and honest and offered to show me her scars on her front and back to help me understand what I might be facing in the future... although we never did get to that stage...
But again, she was full of hints and tips on how to deal with various aspects that you may never get anywhere else.... actually the whole thing turned into a bit like a grown up slumber party 😀.
The one thing I did learn was that the nurses were very good at making sure that I was in no pain. I actually had no idea what I was taking at that point, but every time they came with little plastic pots with pills in them, I just swallowed them like an obedient child. With hindsight I think this was a good thing as I really did not feel very much at all from the surgery sites.
The next morning there was some very cheery / militant nurses who were trying to get us out of bed by 7am in order to strip the beds... we got told to sit in the bedside chairs, but actually after 30 minutes of no action, and because I was feeling that hot, sickly, sweaty feeling of a fainting episode coming on... I just got back into the bed and stayed put. And once I was back in the bed, the others went back into their beds too.
(Always a trend setter lol... or maybe I am just a rebel 😀)
Anyway, the doctors came on their rounds, and the one checking me basically pressed the dressings against the 2 wounds to check for seepage.... at which point I thought I was going to literally hit the ceiling. So they noted that I was a bit swollen and tender, and needed my dressings changed... (the amount of swear words going through my head at that point really would have made a trooper blush!)
But as I was adamant I was getting out, I waited until the dressings were changed and then I got into my own clothes and waited for my lift to arrive.
I actually did feel a bit sweaty and faint like, but I would not admit that to anyone - as technically I could put it down to tiredness and I really just wanted my own bed.
Anyway, after texting the world to say I was alive and out of hospital... I slept. A lot. A pretty boring Christmas Eve, but I was chuffed with the fact that I had had the surgery, hadn't been sick, and that they had issued me with a bag of various painkillers to see me through the next week or so. So... success all round. 😀😀😀
Surgery really wasn't as bad as everybody thought it was going to be. In fact, really it wasn't any more complicated than when I got my wisdom teeth out years previously. Silver linings and small mercies 😀😀😀- I was going to be ok for xmas entertaining!
Friday, 23 December 2016
Week 4: Research, ponderings and being morbidly curious...
Week 4: Friday 16 - Thursday 22 December 2016
So after that first week of telling everyone about my diagnosis, I carried out loads of research on what I had and possibilities to come.
This is partly my own human nature about gathering facts and making assessments, but also it was quite good to have chats with friends, asking questions and also sharing anecdotes.
So I looked at what cancer actually is, how it grows, growth rates, where it can spread to, different treatment options, potential side effects, and lots of success stories.
The whole thing is fascinating - genuinely.
For anyone really interested, the Macmillan website, Cancer Research U.K. website and Breast Cancer Care website are all really good.
For instance, there is no known cause of cancer. There may be certain risk factors, and in some cases, there may be genetic links, but there is no definitive 'thing' which causes cancer.
Also, I am hormone receptor negative - which means I can't be given hormone therapy to control the spread of cancerous cells. But that doesn't mean it's a bad thing - it just means that I have a different treatment path from some other people.
I also didn't appreciate that there were so many different types of breast cancer too! I still don't know which one I have until I see the surgeon after my surgery... but there is quite a long list, and obviously it all depends on if it has spread elsewhere too.
Cancerous cells themselves I imagine are like little evil robots, which float around your system and settle somewhere that takes their fancy. Once there, they start dividing. One piece of research that I came across said that the cell division rate can be anything from cell division every 25 days, through to maybe a rate of division of maybe 75-100 days. This was in an article where it says that many patients ask how long they have had tumours in them.... the scary thing is, is that some tumours can be in a person's body between 2 -5 years before they are big enough to be felt!
(Random fact from research article - supposedly it takes between 28 and 30 divisions (or doubling in size) for the tumour to be felt in an exam - whether this is supported by other medical evidence I have yet to ascertain though!)
The tumours themselves grow from these cells. How cancer can spread is either through travelling through the blood stream , through the lymph system, or by growing so large that it breaks through whatever sac / boundary it is contained in I.e. the basement membrane. (In laymens terms - this is how I understand it, but realise there is a whole medical encyclopaedia for this which I don't understand!)
I also realise that the pain in my breast may actually be caused by the tumour basically pressing on something like a nerve ending, or maybe it has just outgrown the space it was growing in... again... will know more after my surgery.
Looking at what happens if it has spread, clearly that's a discussion to be had with my surgeon. It may be that I may need a full mastectomy. Or if it has spread elsewhere, the key places where breast cancer can end up in the lymph nodes, the bones, the liver or the lungs. (This is based on known trends, and not me being doom and gloom!). Equally I am pretty sure because the little bastard cells can travel, technically they may end up anywhere. However... the whole point of treatment nowadays is about early capture and eradication of these cells 😀. Anyway I am hoping for the best and that everything will be removed at surgery followed by chemo and radio therapy.
Looking at the side effects of my proposed treatment... am getting used to the thought of losing my hair. I still don't like the thought, and it can still make me teary, but I have started looking at wigs, hats and scarves online to try and be proactive. I don't think I can be brave enough to get my head shaved for charity, as I am pretty sure I may cry all the way through it, but at least this way I can take back some control. I know myself well enough to know that I will deal less well with clumps of hair coming out in the shower.
Perversely, I hadn't given any thought to the fact that I will lose ALL of my hair. Aside from not having to worry about waxing for a wee while, I am almost perversely curious to see what I look like with no eyebrows or eyelashes! All I can think of is Christina Yang on her wedding day in 'Grey's Anatomy'!
Some other effects I already know about from dad's experience - the tiredness, the sickness, the constipation, the radiation burns.... but I also didn't appreciate that actually my chemo is likely to bring on the menopause.
Aside from the questions that friends asked about potential for freezing my eggs, and if I want kids.... I hadn't actually ever thought about the menopause. I am 38 and sometimes make jokes about it.... but always seemed one of those far off things.
At this rate I might be wonky boobed with a moustache 😜😂. But not going to dwell on that.... there are tablets for everything and I can't stress about what I can't control.
Also, dad was telling me that when he was in having chemo, one poor lady appeared to have some kind of epilepsy attack, and on another occasion there was a chap who had a panic attack as he thought he was unable to swallow. But these are things that are linked to 'chemo fog' - it can attack your your brain in funny ways - but dad did reassure me that medical teams are constantly walking the floor monitoring for any changes to individuals getting the treatment. And who knows what underlying conditions these people may also have had.
So... as with many things I am finding out along the way, I just need to wait and see what my own particular story / journey is going to look like. I may be one of these people who breeze through everything and come out looking like some kind of refreshed supermodel.... or I may not. Either way - I reckon I will be a stronger person though.
Whilst I would never wish this on anyone, I am seeing this as an opportunity to take stock and try new things. As indeed.... you only live once 😀😀😀.
I am however uber conscious that this continues to be hard on family and friends, but the only way I can get through this is by dealing with it in my own way. I am not morbid, and I need to have a laugh. I will write lots of rubbish... but you don't have to read it.
There will still be times when I go quiet or just need to sleep. Or sometimes I might just be a cancer comic, or a cancer bore. None of these are cries for attention... just me being me.
Anyway... next stage is surgery. Where my biggest fear is actually being sick from the anaesthetic... go figure lol.
So after that first week of telling everyone about my diagnosis, I carried out loads of research on what I had and possibilities to come.
This is partly my own human nature about gathering facts and making assessments, but also it was quite good to have chats with friends, asking questions and also sharing anecdotes.
So I looked at what cancer actually is, how it grows, growth rates, where it can spread to, different treatment options, potential side effects, and lots of success stories.
The whole thing is fascinating - genuinely.
For anyone really interested, the Macmillan website, Cancer Research U.K. website and Breast Cancer Care website are all really good.
For instance, there is no known cause of cancer. There may be certain risk factors, and in some cases, there may be genetic links, but there is no definitive 'thing' which causes cancer.
Also, I am hormone receptor negative - which means I can't be given hormone therapy to control the spread of cancerous cells. But that doesn't mean it's a bad thing - it just means that I have a different treatment path from some other people.
I also didn't appreciate that there were so many different types of breast cancer too! I still don't know which one I have until I see the surgeon after my surgery... but there is quite a long list, and obviously it all depends on if it has spread elsewhere too.
Cancerous cells themselves I imagine are like little evil robots, which float around your system and settle somewhere that takes their fancy. Once there, they start dividing. One piece of research that I came across said that the cell division rate can be anything from cell division every 25 days, through to maybe a rate of division of maybe 75-100 days. This was in an article where it says that many patients ask how long they have had tumours in them.... the scary thing is, is that some tumours can be in a person's body between 2 -5 years before they are big enough to be felt!
(Random fact from research article - supposedly it takes between 28 and 30 divisions (or doubling in size) for the tumour to be felt in an exam - whether this is supported by other medical evidence I have yet to ascertain though!)
The tumours themselves grow from these cells. How cancer can spread is either through travelling through the blood stream , through the lymph system, or by growing so large that it breaks through whatever sac / boundary it is contained in I.e. the basement membrane. (In laymens terms - this is how I understand it, but realise there is a whole medical encyclopaedia for this which I don't understand!)
I also realise that the pain in my breast may actually be caused by the tumour basically pressing on something like a nerve ending, or maybe it has just outgrown the space it was growing in... again... will know more after my surgery.
Looking at what happens if it has spread, clearly that's a discussion to be had with my surgeon. It may be that I may need a full mastectomy. Or if it has spread elsewhere, the key places where breast cancer can end up in the lymph nodes, the bones, the liver or the lungs. (This is based on known trends, and not me being doom and gloom!). Equally I am pretty sure because the little bastard cells can travel, technically they may end up anywhere. However... the whole point of treatment nowadays is about early capture and eradication of these cells 😀. Anyway I am hoping for the best and that everything will be removed at surgery followed by chemo and radio therapy.
Looking at the side effects of my proposed treatment... am getting used to the thought of losing my hair. I still don't like the thought, and it can still make me teary, but I have started looking at wigs, hats and scarves online to try and be proactive. I don't think I can be brave enough to get my head shaved for charity, as I am pretty sure I may cry all the way through it, but at least this way I can take back some control. I know myself well enough to know that I will deal less well with clumps of hair coming out in the shower.
Perversely, I hadn't given any thought to the fact that I will lose ALL of my hair. Aside from not having to worry about waxing for a wee while, I am almost perversely curious to see what I look like with no eyebrows or eyelashes! All I can think of is Christina Yang on her wedding day in 'Grey's Anatomy'!
Some other effects I already know about from dad's experience - the tiredness, the sickness, the constipation, the radiation burns.... but I also didn't appreciate that actually my chemo is likely to bring on the menopause.
Aside from the questions that friends asked about potential for freezing my eggs, and if I want kids.... I hadn't actually ever thought about the menopause. I am 38 and sometimes make jokes about it.... but always seemed one of those far off things.
At this rate I might be wonky boobed with a moustache 😜😂. But not going to dwell on that.... there are tablets for everything and I can't stress about what I can't control.
Also, dad was telling me that when he was in having chemo, one poor lady appeared to have some kind of epilepsy attack, and on another occasion there was a chap who had a panic attack as he thought he was unable to swallow. But these are things that are linked to 'chemo fog' - it can attack your your brain in funny ways - but dad did reassure me that medical teams are constantly walking the floor monitoring for any changes to individuals getting the treatment. And who knows what underlying conditions these people may also have had.
So... as with many things I am finding out along the way, I just need to wait and see what my own particular story / journey is going to look like. I may be one of these people who breeze through everything and come out looking like some kind of refreshed supermodel.... or I may not. Either way - I reckon I will be a stronger person though.
Whilst I would never wish this on anyone, I am seeing this as an opportunity to take stock and try new things. As indeed.... you only live once 😀😀😀.
I am however uber conscious that this continues to be hard on family and friends, but the only way I can get through this is by dealing with it in my own way. I am not morbid, and I need to have a laugh. I will write lots of rubbish... but you don't have to read it.
There will still be times when I go quiet or just need to sleep. Or sometimes I might just be a cancer comic, or a cancer bore. None of these are cries for attention... just me being me.
Anyway... next stage is surgery. Where my biggest fear is actually being sick from the anaesthetic... go figure lol.
Thursday, 22 December 2016
Weeks 3/4: Dealing with the diagnosis...
Cancer Blog 4
Weeks 3 and 4: Friday 09 - Thursday 22 December 2016
Ok, this one covers a fortnight as opposed to a week.
But that's because it covers how I dealt with my diagnosis, or more to the point, how I dealt with how other people dealt with my diagnosis. If you are a cancer patient yourself, all of this is probably quite familiar to you.
However, maybe one of my ways of coping really is to act as a counsellor to others.
Either way, I know everyone has different coping mechanisms, but I have had to point out to some people that it is actually me that is going to be going through the shitty treatment, and not them themselves. 😀
I didn't sleep very much that night I first got my diagnosis. That's partly due to the number of texts flooding in, but I was also processing a lot of information.
I am a practical person - so I had already thought about what would happen with work, what sick pay I would be entitled to, how I would manage financially, we should cancel the holiday planned for June as that was going to be in the middle of my chemo cycle, made a mental note to check my income protection cover (we had been told at signup years ago that some breast cancers are not covered as they are so common nowadays), and also just about all the medical information I had been given.
I remember watching Harry Potter at 3am, and then I decided to create a Closed Group on Facebook at 5am.
My rationale for this was that this would be a quick and easy way to keep those nearest and dearest to me in the loop, without having to send lots of texts, invariably forget people, and also making sure I was consistent and honest with all my answers - I also needed to let people know that it was ok to be curious about what having cancer really meant, there are some people who want to know everything, and there are some people who would rather not know anything at all.
Anyway - I started off the group by saying just that, and that people could either comment, keep a quiet watching brief, or indeed remove themselves from the group if they were not comfortable reading stuff about my updates.
Of course, every group needs a name, and I decided that after a conversation with my sister, I would call it Linz' FaceBoob Updates. This went alongside my profile pic of the Smurfettes, as that linked to my sense of humour about getting blue dye put in me....
Anyway, the group was generally well received, and I will use that to give regular updates on the key stages I am going through. This was to avoid me putting it out across my generic Facebook profile, as like many people, I have close friends and then I have acquaintances who probably don't really need to or want to know I have cancer.
Which is a bit perverse, as I am writing this diary which I will publish online, but this is still for me to write up my experiences, and if I share it with select people, that's ok. It will be open to the big ethernet of spies, aliens and nosy people, but I am ok with that too.
I am not looking for fame or glory, but equally if there are other people who are going through the same kind of journey that I am going through, then maybe there is some comfort in knowing that you are not alone. And it's ok to both share the happy thoughts, as well as being the place to really write down the nasty crap that we will have to go through.
Anyway, over this period, this first thing I did was go to work the following day. A lot of people did not get this, and maybe thought I should have been on my knees crying or praying, or maybe just cleaning the house to do something cathartic.
However, part of my thinking was that I didn't feel ill, I had my diagnosis now, and actually nothing was going to be happening for another fortnight, so why waste annual leave? Also... that by telling as many people as possible, as quickly as possible, it would get it over with, and it would become last week's news very quickly. Plus I had many Christmas social events I wanted to attend over that time period 😀😀😀.
Also, I didn't want my sudden disappearance for maybe up to 6 months to have any sinister connotations or slates on my professional credibility!
So telling my own teams was fine - they were all great. Some other people had decided to tell their own teams in advance of me telling them - which is also fine, especially once I gave my permission, although I was surprised by the range of emotions exhibited by everyone. I had also not realised my boss was on holiday when I texted him - and to this day I feel bad as I guess I may have given him a shock... kind of like 'I have cancer and you won't see me for 6 months...'
Some of the funny moments about telling everyone in my life about my diagnosis occurred when people inadvertently go into speaking about "making tits of themselves" or "making a boob of things".... each and every time, they clap their hands over their mouths, apologise profusely and be left floundering.... whereas I would just laugh and say that it was ok, and there would always be moments like this ... it's like asking people not to think of a purple elephant... they automatically do! 😀
Other people either started crying, swore a lot, said it wasn't fair, said prayers for me, and then there were the ones who go straight into the practical mode of offering help, keeping me company, helping with walking the dogs, taking me to the hospital, and yet other people who did all of the above plus more!
Then there are also people who really want to know the whole details of how I found it, what happened since then, what the medical stuff was... and I get that, as I am like that. It's partly about being able to understand things and getting it in your own head to prepare yourself. In my case it's also because I am sick, twisted, perverted and nosey... but I can't be perfect all of the time lol.
Then there are yet more people who are cancer survivors, who want to share their stories with me too. And that's great. It really is. Because for every story that means people survive. 😀😀😀. The only thing is, is that at the moment, I am probably still a bit overwhelmed to take on everyone's feedback so I am trying not to cause offence by saying I will get round to speaking to everyone in due course.
The only thing I actually probably felt after the diagnosis was relief. I had had breast tenderness for a few weeks prior to finding the lump - and I had actually joked with friends that I hoped I was not pregnant as I love being an auntie, but definitely did not want to be a mummy... In fact I so did want to be pregnant, I would rather have breast cancer....
Oh the irony.
Oh well, maybe if I start making jokes about winning the lottery, maybe that will come true one of these days too 😀.
Anyway, the reason I felt relief is that I started taking painkillers. That sounds daft, but I never take any kind of drugs if I can help it. I hate popping pills, so all the time I had sore boobs, I just lived with it. With hindsight, my constant tiredness, headaches and general problems with concentration were probably just down to waves of sheer pain going through my body. (So comforting to anyone who was in the car when i was driving and occasionally maybe kerbed my car lol)
The really stupid thing is that for the 8 weeks prior to diagnosis I had had a terrible cold, and for the middle 4 weeks I had been eating masses of cold and flu tablets, as well as then getting antibiotics for a sinus / chest infection!
Along the way, many people have said some very nice things about me... that I am strong, inspirational and a real joy to behold about how I am dealing with my diagnosis .... (clearly these people have never seen me when I am in a major strop and being a bitch from hell)... however, I genuinely don't think that I am anything super at all.
What I am is practical and pragmatic. I have an illness. It's going to get treated. I will get back to normal life in due course. (Whatever normal actually ever means lol!)
There is no point in getting upset about stuff. I can't stop it happening, therefore better to embrace it and make the most of it, and come out the other side smiling, even if a little battle scarred.
I make people laugh by telling them I will probably be running the support groups in 6 months time, asking for feedback and flowcharting the whole thing on the wall using post it notes 😀. But it's true, I probably will lol.
I suppose I am not really sure how life changing having this cancer will really be. I am pretty sure that time off work and being at home will cause me to reflect on what it is I really want from life, and I already know that it has fundamentally changed my relationship with some people. That's not necessarily a bad thing, I think this is going to be a great time for personal growth. (As opposed to tumour growth - that would be pretty crap at this stage!)
I have tried to warn people that I will not always be happy go lucky. There will be times when I may be downright rude to people if I am pushed too far, or I am feeling like crap. There will also be times when I don't want to see or speak to anyone, and just hide in my own little shell. That does not mean that I am sinking into depression or anything like that - it just means that I may physically have no energy to do anything... even pick up my phone. (Shock horror - I can't ever imagine that given I am wedded to my phone, but I have been warned in advance by others, so just sharing here to make sure everyone knows and I don't offend anyone!)
Perversely, the fortnight between diagnosis and surgery had been one of the busiest times I have ever had socially.... but I kept all planned social engagements, and even managed to squeeze in a few extra along the way too! Had great xmas party nights out, although I have to say after a fortnight of partying, I am now somewhat scared to look at my credit card bill.... 😜
My sense of humour has also taken a new turn towards the dark side. (It was already there but think this has ratcheted up a few notches now!)
When my sister was up visiting, my mum and the 2 of us went to Dobbies for breakfast. As usual there was the charity boxes at the till. This time they were for one of the Cancer Trusts... at which point I turned to mum and my sister and said "if they are collecting at the door, I am going to say no thanks, I already have it...".
At which point I think they both just gasped with shock... whereas I laughed.... (as did my dad when I told him later - but he has just survived bladder cancer and completely gets my humour!)
The other thing which was slightly skewed humour wise.... I have lots of people praying for me. Which is amazing and lovely... and although not a practicing catholic anymore, does actually still mean something to me. However, when I heard that my granddad had got the local priest to say a mass for me, I think I maybe went a little hysterical and joked that maybe now I would become a virgin again.... at which point my parents advised me that clearly I had been reading the wrong books again....
Generally I am coping though. Sometimes with people telling me now strong I am, I feel a bit of pressure to always be ok... but then I also have some very good friends who have equally said that it's ok to cry and not to be a martyr. Which I do really appreciate.
But I also feel that telling people I have cancer is like saying Lord Voldemort's name in Harry Potter... the more you say it, the less scary it becomes. In fact, I now play the cancer name check so many times, it is funny.
- I want an iPad to take into hospital... why? Because I have cancer.
- I can't be bothered going shopping... why? Because I have cancer.
- I fancy a wee gin with dinner... why? Because I have cancer. 😀
- I want to get served peeled grapes and fanned like a goddess ... why? Because I have cancer... (you get the gist lol)
Don't get me wrong... there have been times when suddenly my eyes start leaking, and I wonder why as I was not thinking about having cancer at that point in time. But just going to roll with it, as I know this is what happens.
Couple of big things I have to consider - telling my nieces and nephew (they are not stupid and it will be obvious when I lose my hair); trying to work out how feasible it will be to work when I am going through chemo (mixed views from multiple sources); and also, having got my diagnosis, I did some further research. Some of the stuff is scary, but going to see what happens after surgery. I will write them down in later blogs but just realised how long this one currently stands!
Anyway... to end on positive notes... I plan to be around for the next 40 years, surgeon has a positive outlook, I am going to completely rock my new image over the next 6 - 12 months, I am going to save a shed load on my lease car mileage and money on diesel by not going to work, and I get to see much more of friends and family when I am off. Along the way I should get new diet and exercise regime, and I will get to spend spring and summer in my garden chillaxing 😀😀😀.
Just think of the number of stories and blogs I can write then.... god help us all!
Weeks 3 and 4: Friday 09 - Thursday 22 December 2016
Ok, this one covers a fortnight as opposed to a week.
But that's because it covers how I dealt with my diagnosis, or more to the point, how I dealt with how other people dealt with my diagnosis. If you are a cancer patient yourself, all of this is probably quite familiar to you.
However, maybe one of my ways of coping really is to act as a counsellor to others.
Either way, I know everyone has different coping mechanisms, but I have had to point out to some people that it is actually me that is going to be going through the shitty treatment, and not them themselves. 😀
I didn't sleep very much that night I first got my diagnosis. That's partly due to the number of texts flooding in, but I was also processing a lot of information.
I am a practical person - so I had already thought about what would happen with work, what sick pay I would be entitled to, how I would manage financially, we should cancel the holiday planned for June as that was going to be in the middle of my chemo cycle, made a mental note to check my income protection cover (we had been told at signup years ago that some breast cancers are not covered as they are so common nowadays), and also just about all the medical information I had been given.
I remember watching Harry Potter at 3am, and then I decided to create a Closed Group on Facebook at 5am.
My rationale for this was that this would be a quick and easy way to keep those nearest and dearest to me in the loop, without having to send lots of texts, invariably forget people, and also making sure I was consistent and honest with all my answers - I also needed to let people know that it was ok to be curious about what having cancer really meant, there are some people who want to know everything, and there are some people who would rather not know anything at all.
Anyway - I started off the group by saying just that, and that people could either comment, keep a quiet watching brief, or indeed remove themselves from the group if they were not comfortable reading stuff about my updates.
Of course, every group needs a name, and I decided that after a conversation with my sister, I would call it Linz' FaceBoob Updates. This went alongside my profile pic of the Smurfettes, as that linked to my sense of humour about getting blue dye put in me....
Anyway, the group was generally well received, and I will use that to give regular updates on the key stages I am going through. This was to avoid me putting it out across my generic Facebook profile, as like many people, I have close friends and then I have acquaintances who probably don't really need to or want to know I have cancer.
Which is a bit perverse, as I am writing this diary which I will publish online, but this is still for me to write up my experiences, and if I share it with select people, that's ok. It will be open to the big ethernet of spies, aliens and nosy people, but I am ok with that too.
I am not looking for fame or glory, but equally if there are other people who are going through the same kind of journey that I am going through, then maybe there is some comfort in knowing that you are not alone. And it's ok to both share the happy thoughts, as well as being the place to really write down the nasty crap that we will have to go through.
Anyway, over this period, this first thing I did was go to work the following day. A lot of people did not get this, and maybe thought I should have been on my knees crying or praying, or maybe just cleaning the house to do something cathartic.
However, part of my thinking was that I didn't feel ill, I had my diagnosis now, and actually nothing was going to be happening for another fortnight, so why waste annual leave? Also... that by telling as many people as possible, as quickly as possible, it would get it over with, and it would become last week's news very quickly. Plus I had many Christmas social events I wanted to attend over that time period 😀😀😀.
Also, I didn't want my sudden disappearance for maybe up to 6 months to have any sinister connotations or slates on my professional credibility!
So telling my own teams was fine - they were all great. Some other people had decided to tell their own teams in advance of me telling them - which is also fine, especially once I gave my permission, although I was surprised by the range of emotions exhibited by everyone. I had also not realised my boss was on holiday when I texted him - and to this day I feel bad as I guess I may have given him a shock... kind of like 'I have cancer and you won't see me for 6 months...'
Some of the funny moments about telling everyone in my life about my diagnosis occurred when people inadvertently go into speaking about "making tits of themselves" or "making a boob of things".... each and every time, they clap their hands over their mouths, apologise profusely and be left floundering.... whereas I would just laugh and say that it was ok, and there would always be moments like this ... it's like asking people not to think of a purple elephant... they automatically do! 😀
Other people either started crying, swore a lot, said it wasn't fair, said prayers for me, and then there were the ones who go straight into the practical mode of offering help, keeping me company, helping with walking the dogs, taking me to the hospital, and yet other people who did all of the above plus more!
Then there are also people who really want to know the whole details of how I found it, what happened since then, what the medical stuff was... and I get that, as I am like that. It's partly about being able to understand things and getting it in your own head to prepare yourself. In my case it's also because I am sick, twisted, perverted and nosey... but I can't be perfect all of the time lol.
Then there are yet more people who are cancer survivors, who want to share their stories with me too. And that's great. It really is. Because for every story that means people survive. 😀😀😀. The only thing is, is that at the moment, I am probably still a bit overwhelmed to take on everyone's feedback so I am trying not to cause offence by saying I will get round to speaking to everyone in due course.
The only thing I actually probably felt after the diagnosis was relief. I had had breast tenderness for a few weeks prior to finding the lump - and I had actually joked with friends that I hoped I was not pregnant as I love being an auntie, but definitely did not want to be a mummy... In fact I so did want to be pregnant, I would rather have breast cancer....
Oh the irony.
Oh well, maybe if I start making jokes about winning the lottery, maybe that will come true one of these days too 😀.
Anyway, the reason I felt relief is that I started taking painkillers. That sounds daft, but I never take any kind of drugs if I can help it. I hate popping pills, so all the time I had sore boobs, I just lived with it. With hindsight, my constant tiredness, headaches and general problems with concentration were probably just down to waves of sheer pain going through my body. (So comforting to anyone who was in the car when i was driving and occasionally maybe kerbed my car lol)
The really stupid thing is that for the 8 weeks prior to diagnosis I had had a terrible cold, and for the middle 4 weeks I had been eating masses of cold and flu tablets, as well as then getting antibiotics for a sinus / chest infection!
Along the way, many people have said some very nice things about me... that I am strong, inspirational and a real joy to behold about how I am dealing with my diagnosis .... (clearly these people have never seen me when I am in a major strop and being a bitch from hell)... however, I genuinely don't think that I am anything super at all.
What I am is practical and pragmatic. I have an illness. It's going to get treated. I will get back to normal life in due course. (Whatever normal actually ever means lol!)
There is no point in getting upset about stuff. I can't stop it happening, therefore better to embrace it and make the most of it, and come out the other side smiling, even if a little battle scarred.
I make people laugh by telling them I will probably be running the support groups in 6 months time, asking for feedback and flowcharting the whole thing on the wall using post it notes 😀. But it's true, I probably will lol.
I suppose I am not really sure how life changing having this cancer will really be. I am pretty sure that time off work and being at home will cause me to reflect on what it is I really want from life, and I already know that it has fundamentally changed my relationship with some people. That's not necessarily a bad thing, I think this is going to be a great time for personal growth. (As opposed to tumour growth - that would be pretty crap at this stage!)
I have tried to warn people that I will not always be happy go lucky. There will be times when I may be downright rude to people if I am pushed too far, or I am feeling like crap. There will also be times when I don't want to see or speak to anyone, and just hide in my own little shell. That does not mean that I am sinking into depression or anything like that - it just means that I may physically have no energy to do anything... even pick up my phone. (Shock horror - I can't ever imagine that given I am wedded to my phone, but I have been warned in advance by others, so just sharing here to make sure everyone knows and I don't offend anyone!)
Perversely, the fortnight between diagnosis and surgery had been one of the busiest times I have ever had socially.... but I kept all planned social engagements, and even managed to squeeze in a few extra along the way too! Had great xmas party nights out, although I have to say after a fortnight of partying, I am now somewhat scared to look at my credit card bill.... 😜
My sense of humour has also taken a new turn towards the dark side. (It was already there but think this has ratcheted up a few notches now!)
When my sister was up visiting, my mum and the 2 of us went to Dobbies for breakfast. As usual there was the charity boxes at the till. This time they were for one of the Cancer Trusts... at which point I turned to mum and my sister and said "if they are collecting at the door, I am going to say no thanks, I already have it...".
At which point I think they both just gasped with shock... whereas I laughed.... (as did my dad when I told him later - but he has just survived bladder cancer and completely gets my humour!)
The other thing which was slightly skewed humour wise.... I have lots of people praying for me. Which is amazing and lovely... and although not a practicing catholic anymore, does actually still mean something to me. However, when I heard that my granddad had got the local priest to say a mass for me, I think I maybe went a little hysterical and joked that maybe now I would become a virgin again.... at which point my parents advised me that clearly I had been reading the wrong books again....
Generally I am coping though. Sometimes with people telling me now strong I am, I feel a bit of pressure to always be ok... but then I also have some very good friends who have equally said that it's ok to cry and not to be a martyr. Which I do really appreciate.
But I also feel that telling people I have cancer is like saying Lord Voldemort's name in Harry Potter... the more you say it, the less scary it becomes. In fact, I now play the cancer name check so many times, it is funny.
- I want an iPad to take into hospital... why? Because I have cancer.
- I can't be bothered going shopping... why? Because I have cancer.
- I fancy a wee gin with dinner... why? Because I have cancer. 😀
- I want to get served peeled grapes and fanned like a goddess ... why? Because I have cancer... (you get the gist lol)
Don't get me wrong... there have been times when suddenly my eyes start leaking, and I wonder why as I was not thinking about having cancer at that point in time. But just going to roll with it, as I know this is what happens.
Couple of big things I have to consider - telling my nieces and nephew (they are not stupid and it will be obvious when I lose my hair); trying to work out how feasible it will be to work when I am going through chemo (mixed views from multiple sources); and also, having got my diagnosis, I did some further research. Some of the stuff is scary, but going to see what happens after surgery. I will write them down in later blogs but just realised how long this one currently stands!
Anyway... to end on positive notes... I plan to be around for the next 40 years, surgeon has a positive outlook, I am going to completely rock my new image over the next 6 - 12 months, I am going to save a shed load on my lease car mileage and money on diesel by not going to work, and I get to see much more of friends and family when I am off. Along the way I should get new diet and exercise regime, and I will get to spend spring and summer in my garden chillaxing 😀😀😀.
Just think of the number of stories and blogs I can write then.... god help us all!
Thursday, 8 December 2016
Week 3: Getting the diagnosis...
Week 3: Thursday 08 - Thursday 15 December 2016
So my appointment was at 10.30am. Apparently this seems to be a crap time to have an appointment as there are literally no parking spaces at St Johns. Mum circled a few times before we gave up and parked at the Howden Centre and walked through.
In arriving at OPD 4, I was sitting scuffing my feet like a small child. I kind of felt awkward having both mum and husband with me - talk about overkill. Most people only take one person at most. But I didn't want to have to choose between them.
Anyway, when the surgeon called me in, I walked forward and joked that I had brought a posse with me. He said that was perfectly ok... and at that point I knew I was going to be told something I might not like.
(Not that the surgeon was in any way an ogre... I just got a feeling!)
Anyhow, we sat down and the surgeon started off by recalling the various tests that I had had, and then went onto say that the biopsy had confirmed that the tumour was cancerous, but that there was a plan to treat it.
At this point, I was actually ok. I just went into practical mode, and my previous research actually paid off. I think my mum was also practical but trying to be stoical, but my husband looked quite frankly stunned and grey.
I asked what that meant in terms of treatment plan, timescales, what kind of cancer, and my mum asked how big the tumour was.
So, we got walked through the fact that it was a Grade 3 tumour, which means it is abnormal (I laughed at this point, as I can't even have normal cancer lol). However what that actually means is that tumours are graded 1 as normal cells and slow growing, grade 2 is moderate, and grade 3 is abnormal cells which are fast growing.
I got told not to get that mixed up with the cancer staging, and my cancer was caught very much as at an early stage. (So if anyone looking it up it is stage 0 or 1, I think.)
In terms of treatment, the first thing would be surgery to remove the tumour. Then chemo, and then radiotherapy. He pointed out at this point that I am young, strong, fit and healthy, and he would still like me to be around in 40 years... and they take a balance of what treatment levels they could give me to give better sustained quality of life. So in essence, because I am young, fit and healthy, the trade off is that they can give me aggressive treatment in the short term for longer term benefit. (The sub text also being that I am probably going to have a really shitty 6 months!!!)
When asking about surgery I asked if it would be a mastectomy, and he said no, it would be a lumpectomy and we would wait and see what results showed. The lumpectomy is about breast conserving surgery, and has the same success with radio therapy, as a full mastectomy when it comes to removing cancerous cells.
At which point I nodded as that is a good thing. I had already jumped ahead to needing a double mastectomy and breast reconstruction to perhaps getting a perky D-cup, with fat used from my stomach to create a barbie doll look without the need for diet or exercise! (Wishful thinking on my part I know lol.... but silver linings 😀)
Anyway the surgeon did point out that he was hoping to get everything out without need for invasive surgery, and that there may only be a small dent underneath my breast once he was finished. I did explain that my sister had already adopted the nickname of 'wonky tit' for me.... but in all seriousness I was not sure how I would cope with being lopsided. He did say that we can always address any cosmetic issues at a later date.
He then explained that the operation would consist of taking out the tumour and injecting blue radioactive dye into me. This was to allow the identification of the sentinel lymph node, which was also going to be removed for testing.
Basically the tests on both would be looking at if all the cancerous cells had been removed, and also if it had spread, or indeed if it had the risk of spreading. (In my head I picture the cancerous cells as sparring robots or Artificial Intelligence bots who can create their own wee worlds in which to live in.... but I do have quite a vivid and overactive imagination - you should see my other blogs!)
Anyway, my results would be available after 3 weeks due to xmas holidays, and at that point, he would be able to tell me more about the cancer itself, and if he had managed to remove everything, including a healthy margin. If not, I may require a further surgery.
He also explained that it was just a day procedure, and that the following day I may still be a little groggy, but the days after that I may just feel a little bruised under my armpit and I would be given exercises to do to make sure that it didn't stiffen up.
He also went on to explain that the initial biopsy taken the week previous was also able to identify that my cancer was both oestrogen receptor-negative, and progesterone receptor-negative. This basically means that I cannot be given drugs like Tamoxifen to control the cancer - the only thing that will work is to cut the cancer out and to then have chemo and radio therapy. Part of the testing on the tumour after surgery was to see if I was HER2 positive - something else which may be controlled by drugs but I have to wait and see on that score.
I actually took all of this in my stride - as I said - looking up all possible scenarios and preparing myself mentally had really helped. However, I did have one moment of real distress. That was when I asked about potential hair loss. And I was gently told there would be no 'if'. And it would be the chemo. And actually, between the first treatment and the second one three weeks later, I should expect to have lost all my hair.
I mean. I am not even a vain person. I don't actually care what I look like normally. However there is something about being bald and wearing scarves which really screams out that I have cancer. That's the bit that's unfair. 😢
The nurse did tell me about the use of the cool cap - which basically works by freezing the scalp to stop the chemo working on the hair roots... however I also appreciated her honesty when she said that it worked best on people with thick hair, who sometimes still lose clumps. I have thin, fine and delicate hair, so knew at that point that it was never really going to work for me.
I tried again to look on the positive side of this, and said that at least the treatment may help kickstart my new year diet. Unfortunately... that would appear not to be the case either. 😢.
Supposedly I will also be on steroids, which will make me put ON weight. "Jings, I can't even catch a break on that!", I exclaimed.
So... instead, I have to give up my gym membership as I can't go anywhere open plan for the germs (I will have no immune system going through chemo), and I can't go swimming as I may be radioactive, but I have to eat healthily and make sure I have regular programme of exercise.
No more thinking I will be a lady that lunches, can eat cream cakes galore and the chemo will help me shift 2 stone in weight then!!!
Anyway... pulling myself back into practical mode, I then asked what the timescales were for everything. So, it was going to be surgery first, then allowing for no further surgery requirements after that, I would start chemo after 6 weeks (1 day every 3 weeks for 6 cycles = 18 weeks in total), and then radiotherapy every week day for 4 weeks.
In asking about date for surgery, the surgeon flicked open his diary and asked... "what about 23rd December?"
At this point I started laughing. Honestly. The reason being is that particular week, my mum was going for a liver scan on the Monday, my dad was going for a colonoscopy on the Wednesday, and my niece was having dental surgery on the Friday! (My family really are not the healthiest at the moment, and clearly we have lost whatever rabbits foot or four leaf clover which had covered us in previous years!)
Anyway, of course I said that was fine, and he added me to the end of what seemed a very long list of names in his diary. He explained that as I was the youngest, fittest, healthiest patient he had, I would probably be taken last on the day surgery, but I still needed to check in to the hospital at 7.30am that day.
So that was more or less it on diagnosis day. I had a further chat with the breast nurse after leaving the surgeon's office - they also needed to take my pre-op bloods to make sure I was fit for the surgery.... thankfully although I despise needles (bit of an issue given what's to come!), I apparently have good veins and they got all the blood required.
Upon leaving hospital I was still ok, but mum and husband I think were in shock. We decided to go to Dobbies for coffee and cake as yet again I decided I was hungry lol.
Trying to compose a meaningful text to friends and loved ones who were awaiting my news was really difficult. How do you tell people you have cancer?
I am conscious that even at the best of times, texts are terrible things to read cold - you can't put true sense of feeling into them, you can't be there to read reactions, or to put people at ease, or to reassure them that you are fine...
Anyway... what I ended up with was the following: (with some tweaks for some people like my boss lol)
"Hiya... just out.
Got breast cancer but caught early.
Operation scheduled for 23rd December as day op. Chemo and radiotherapy afterwards.
All signs positive as I am young and fit (and bolshy lol)
I am ok... out with mum and dave for coffee and cake.
Seeing this as free holiday from work.
So hopefully all done and dusted within 6 months and in time to go to Madeira hopefully 😄.
But I am doing ok. Research in advance helped! Xx"
After we were done there, Mum suggested that Dave and I went into town for the afternoon and maybe had a drink - she would take the dogs to her house and bring them back later. I actually wasn't fussed as I am not a big drinker at the best of times, but she did point out that actually Dave may need to do this to help him through with dealing with stuff.
Anyway, so that's what we did.
We went in and bought me 3 new bottles of gin from the Edinburgh Gin shop, and then went to the Whisky Society for late lunch and to buy new whisky for husband. (That actually happens on a regular basis, so really my diagnosis was just a good excuse to get whisky lol.)
Of course over the course of the afternoon and evening, many people texted back and everyone was lovely, but shocked. My own husband also admitted that he had fully expected me to be given the all clear.
Once home, I spent most of the evening on the phone to various people and my mum also returned the dogs.
Actually, funny side story. My dogs who who are tiny Yorkshire terriers, can normally sit on my car front seat, belted in, curled up and sleep when I drive. When my mum had them, the wee one had decided to become like Houdini, squirm out of her car harness AND her jacket, and had managed to stand on the window button to roll the window down whilst mum thought they were safely harnessed in the back seat of her car. Poor mum thought she was having heart failure as she thought my dogs were making a bid for freedom! Thankfully she stopped and put them to rights, but I have honestly never heard my mum swear so much about my wee puppies who look like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths!
My neighbours popped over too - I think this was the start of me trying to assure people that I was ok, I had not suddenly turned into an alien and that I was dealing with everything in my own imitable fashion 😀😀😀 - and actually I am eternally grateful to them both for coming over - as actually it genuinely proved to me that I am ok with this.
I have cancer. It's not a death sentence.
Don't get me wrong... It's not going to be a walk in the park either, but I am determined to beat this with a positive attitude and great support networks.
I will end this blog here although this only covers one day - as the next part is better chunked together (I have OCD about making sure things flow well together! 😀😀😀)
So my appointment was at 10.30am. Apparently this seems to be a crap time to have an appointment as there are literally no parking spaces at St Johns. Mum circled a few times before we gave up and parked at the Howden Centre and walked through.
In arriving at OPD 4, I was sitting scuffing my feet like a small child. I kind of felt awkward having both mum and husband with me - talk about overkill. Most people only take one person at most. But I didn't want to have to choose between them.
Anyway, when the surgeon called me in, I walked forward and joked that I had brought a posse with me. He said that was perfectly ok... and at that point I knew I was going to be told something I might not like.
(Not that the surgeon was in any way an ogre... I just got a feeling!)
Anyhow, we sat down and the surgeon started off by recalling the various tests that I had had, and then went onto say that the biopsy had confirmed that the tumour was cancerous, but that there was a plan to treat it.
At this point, I was actually ok. I just went into practical mode, and my previous research actually paid off. I think my mum was also practical but trying to be stoical, but my husband looked quite frankly stunned and grey.
I asked what that meant in terms of treatment plan, timescales, what kind of cancer, and my mum asked how big the tumour was.
So, we got walked through the fact that it was a Grade 3 tumour, which means it is abnormal (I laughed at this point, as I can't even have normal cancer lol). However what that actually means is that tumours are graded 1 as normal cells and slow growing, grade 2 is moderate, and grade 3 is abnormal cells which are fast growing.
I got told not to get that mixed up with the cancer staging, and my cancer was caught very much as at an early stage. (So if anyone looking it up it is stage 0 or 1, I think.)
In terms of treatment, the first thing would be surgery to remove the tumour. Then chemo, and then radiotherapy. He pointed out at this point that I am young, strong, fit and healthy, and he would still like me to be around in 40 years... and they take a balance of what treatment levels they could give me to give better sustained quality of life. So in essence, because I am young, fit and healthy, the trade off is that they can give me aggressive treatment in the short term for longer term benefit. (The sub text also being that I am probably going to have a really shitty 6 months!!!)
When asking about surgery I asked if it would be a mastectomy, and he said no, it would be a lumpectomy and we would wait and see what results showed. The lumpectomy is about breast conserving surgery, and has the same success with radio therapy, as a full mastectomy when it comes to removing cancerous cells.
At which point I nodded as that is a good thing. I had already jumped ahead to needing a double mastectomy and breast reconstruction to perhaps getting a perky D-cup, with fat used from my stomach to create a barbie doll look without the need for diet or exercise! (Wishful thinking on my part I know lol.... but silver linings 😀)
Anyway the surgeon did point out that he was hoping to get everything out without need for invasive surgery, and that there may only be a small dent underneath my breast once he was finished. I did explain that my sister had already adopted the nickname of 'wonky tit' for me.... but in all seriousness I was not sure how I would cope with being lopsided. He did say that we can always address any cosmetic issues at a later date.
He then explained that the operation would consist of taking out the tumour and injecting blue radioactive dye into me. This was to allow the identification of the sentinel lymph node, which was also going to be removed for testing.
Basically the tests on both would be looking at if all the cancerous cells had been removed, and also if it had spread, or indeed if it had the risk of spreading. (In my head I picture the cancerous cells as sparring robots or Artificial Intelligence bots who can create their own wee worlds in which to live in.... but I do have quite a vivid and overactive imagination - you should see my other blogs!)
Anyway, my results would be available after 3 weeks due to xmas holidays, and at that point, he would be able to tell me more about the cancer itself, and if he had managed to remove everything, including a healthy margin. If not, I may require a further surgery.
He also explained that it was just a day procedure, and that the following day I may still be a little groggy, but the days after that I may just feel a little bruised under my armpit and I would be given exercises to do to make sure that it didn't stiffen up.
He also went on to explain that the initial biopsy taken the week previous was also able to identify that my cancer was both oestrogen receptor-negative, and progesterone receptor-negative. This basically means that I cannot be given drugs like Tamoxifen to control the cancer - the only thing that will work is to cut the cancer out and to then have chemo and radio therapy. Part of the testing on the tumour after surgery was to see if I was HER2 positive - something else which may be controlled by drugs but I have to wait and see on that score.
I actually took all of this in my stride - as I said - looking up all possible scenarios and preparing myself mentally had really helped. However, I did have one moment of real distress. That was when I asked about potential hair loss. And I was gently told there would be no 'if'. And it would be the chemo. And actually, between the first treatment and the second one three weeks later, I should expect to have lost all my hair.
I mean. I am not even a vain person. I don't actually care what I look like normally. However there is something about being bald and wearing scarves which really screams out that I have cancer. That's the bit that's unfair. 😢
The nurse did tell me about the use of the cool cap - which basically works by freezing the scalp to stop the chemo working on the hair roots... however I also appreciated her honesty when she said that it worked best on people with thick hair, who sometimes still lose clumps. I have thin, fine and delicate hair, so knew at that point that it was never really going to work for me.
I tried again to look on the positive side of this, and said that at least the treatment may help kickstart my new year diet. Unfortunately... that would appear not to be the case either. 😢.
Supposedly I will also be on steroids, which will make me put ON weight. "Jings, I can't even catch a break on that!", I exclaimed.
So... instead, I have to give up my gym membership as I can't go anywhere open plan for the germs (I will have no immune system going through chemo), and I can't go swimming as I may be radioactive, but I have to eat healthily and make sure I have regular programme of exercise.
No more thinking I will be a lady that lunches, can eat cream cakes galore and the chemo will help me shift 2 stone in weight then!!!
Anyway... pulling myself back into practical mode, I then asked what the timescales were for everything. So, it was going to be surgery first, then allowing for no further surgery requirements after that, I would start chemo after 6 weeks (1 day every 3 weeks for 6 cycles = 18 weeks in total), and then radiotherapy every week day for 4 weeks.
In asking about date for surgery, the surgeon flicked open his diary and asked... "what about 23rd December?"
At this point I started laughing. Honestly. The reason being is that particular week, my mum was going for a liver scan on the Monday, my dad was going for a colonoscopy on the Wednesday, and my niece was having dental surgery on the Friday! (My family really are not the healthiest at the moment, and clearly we have lost whatever rabbits foot or four leaf clover which had covered us in previous years!)
Anyway, of course I said that was fine, and he added me to the end of what seemed a very long list of names in his diary. He explained that as I was the youngest, fittest, healthiest patient he had, I would probably be taken last on the day surgery, but I still needed to check in to the hospital at 7.30am that day.
So that was more or less it on diagnosis day. I had a further chat with the breast nurse after leaving the surgeon's office - they also needed to take my pre-op bloods to make sure I was fit for the surgery.... thankfully although I despise needles (bit of an issue given what's to come!), I apparently have good veins and they got all the blood required.
Upon leaving hospital I was still ok, but mum and husband I think were in shock. We decided to go to Dobbies for coffee and cake as yet again I decided I was hungry lol.
Trying to compose a meaningful text to friends and loved ones who were awaiting my news was really difficult. How do you tell people you have cancer?
I am conscious that even at the best of times, texts are terrible things to read cold - you can't put true sense of feeling into them, you can't be there to read reactions, or to put people at ease, or to reassure them that you are fine...
Anyway... what I ended up with was the following: (with some tweaks for some people like my boss lol)
"Hiya... just out.
Got breast cancer but caught early.
Operation scheduled for 23rd December as day op. Chemo and radiotherapy afterwards.
All signs positive as I am young and fit (and bolshy lol)
I am ok... out with mum and dave for coffee and cake.
Seeing this as free holiday from work.
So hopefully all done and dusted within 6 months and in time to go to Madeira hopefully 😄.
But I am doing ok. Research in advance helped! Xx"
After we were done there, Mum suggested that Dave and I went into town for the afternoon and maybe had a drink - she would take the dogs to her house and bring them back later. I actually wasn't fussed as I am not a big drinker at the best of times, but she did point out that actually Dave may need to do this to help him through with dealing with stuff.
Anyway, so that's what we did.
We went in and bought me 3 new bottles of gin from the Edinburgh Gin shop, and then went to the Whisky Society for late lunch and to buy new whisky for husband. (That actually happens on a regular basis, so really my diagnosis was just a good excuse to get whisky lol.)
Of course over the course of the afternoon and evening, many people texted back and everyone was lovely, but shocked. My own husband also admitted that he had fully expected me to be given the all clear.
Once home, I spent most of the evening on the phone to various people and my mum also returned the dogs.
Actually, funny side story. My dogs who who are tiny Yorkshire terriers, can normally sit on my car front seat, belted in, curled up and sleep when I drive. When my mum had them, the wee one had decided to become like Houdini, squirm out of her car harness AND her jacket, and had managed to stand on the window button to roll the window down whilst mum thought they were safely harnessed in the back seat of her car. Poor mum thought she was having heart failure as she thought my dogs were making a bid for freedom! Thankfully she stopped and put them to rights, but I have honestly never heard my mum swear so much about my wee puppies who look like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths!
My neighbours popped over too - I think this was the start of me trying to assure people that I was ok, I had not suddenly turned into an alien and that I was dealing with everything in my own imitable fashion 😀😀😀 - and actually I am eternally grateful to them both for coming over - as actually it genuinely proved to me that I am ok with this.
I have cancer. It's not a death sentence.
Don't get me wrong... It's not going to be a walk in the park either, but I am determined to beat this with a positive attitude and great support networks.
I will end this blog here although this only covers one day - as the next part is better chunked together (I have OCD about making sure things flow well together! 😀😀😀)
Week 2: Getting tested...
Week 2: Thursday 01 - Wednesday 07 December 2016
So... awake early, and headed to the hospital with my mother in law in tow. I had been concerned about getting parked, but thankfully there were still spaces left. Went to find where I was supposed to go first, and then retreated back to the wee cafe for tea and scones to kill some time.
At 9.30, we went through to the Outpatients 4, where I was told to go to Area 2. The place was actually full of mainly women over 60 / 70... and I remember thinking that I was too young to be here.
Anyway, I got called into be measured for my weight, and then I was called into see the surgeon. Had left my jacket and bag with my mother in law, so made it easier to sit and anxiously sweat in front of the surgeon and staff nurse. I was conscious that I had not put deodorant on that morning as I had read somewhere that that can muck up the readings on the mammogram - but with hindsight I think that may just be a load of tosh!
Anyhow - the surgeon was lovely and asked if he could examine my breasts, and then proceeded to check me all over, prior to him marking up dots around the lump, and getting his calipers out to measure it.
He explained that he would be sending me for a mammogram and an ultrasound, and then I would come back to him for a likely biopsy. All fine I said - I have had a cervical biopsy before and know they can be quite quick.
So myself and my mother in law toddle off through to the general x-ray department with my bit of paper with exams required on it, and I sat and waited. And waited. It was disconcerting as there were 2 other people in the waiting room who had the same first name as me, and when their names were called, I felt like a cat on a hot tin roof!
I felt bad for my mother in law, as I was useless company - didn't feel like talking so just sat in silence...
I think I was called for my mammogram after about an hour of waiting and that was an interesting experience from an observational capacity. Having never had one before, the radiographer had to tell me that she would position my breasts and I was just to relax. Well... that's all well and good, but I was literally half naked, my boobs were being kneaded like dough by a stranger, and then pushed flattish by a machine! I did manage to crack a joke though that made the technician smile, and I was also laughing at the fact that the marker dots had made a mirror image on my rib cage... the joys of big boobs and gravity!
After the mammogram, I was asked to wait outside until I was called for my ultrasound. The technician said that overall I could expect to be in the x ray department for up to 4 hrs.... at which point I possibly looked at her like she had 2 heads, as I was still working on the premise that I would be an hour and half - I had left 3 dogs roaming alone in the house thinking I was not going to be long!
Anyway... after maybe about another hour, I got called forward for my ultrasound... and again got naked from the waist up and lay on the bench as I waited for the radiologist to arrive. I got covered in the jelly stuff, and I spent most of my time trying to twist my head upwards and backwards to see what was going on, on the screen. (I should point out that clearly I have no knowledge of what ultrasound pictures actually mean, but there was no eureka moment, pictures of babies or aliens, and all I could actually see was a picture that looked grainy like a snow storm.)
The radiologist had a student in with her, and from their conversation I learned that my lymph nodes were clear, as was the rest of my breast. They were taking measurements of the cross section of lymph glands rather than the length, as people have diffferent lengths of lymph nodes you know 😀.
She also highlighted that she could not see any blood supply to the lump, and then ultimately she asked me if the lump had always been red and warm to the touch. I had to tell her that I didn't really know as I had only known about it for a week, but that my breasts were generally quite warm. She acknowledged that, and also said I had had a lot of poking and prodding that morning.
She then told me that she was not able to give me a diagnosis at that point, but that the surgeon would not need her to guide any needles into the deep tissue and that I should go back as planned to the surgeon, who would likely give me a biopsy - and if there was fluid present it would drain out then. She then proceeded to give me a small napkin to clean myself down with, and disappeared to give me privacy. The only problem being that the amount of gloopy jelly on my boob clearly needed more than a small napkin to clean up... so I ended up having to use the paper lining off the bed to help me mop up (honestly, the joys of big boobs are not always transparent!)
Once outside, my mother in law and I headed back to OPD 4, where the surgeon called me in almost immediately, and apologised for the delay it had taken to see me again.
When I was inside his office, he actually asked me if I wanted my mum in with me... I laughed and said it was my mother in law, but that was fine. With hindsight, maybe I should have known they were maybe prepping me for potential bad news, given I had done everything else all morning by myself!
Anyhow, he explained he was going to to do a core needle biopsy, and he would give me a local anaesthetic first... "a little prick?", I asked giggling 😀... He then compounded my laughter by saying it would be "a little nippy"... my laughter dried up though when he then explained that he was just going to then make a "small incision" in my breast.... I mean, that wasn't part of the deal!! I was thinking quick needle in and out, and I would be done in 2 minutes!
I should also point out at this juncture that my poor mother in law had been invited in by now, and was sitting beside me as all this was going on. Literally right beside me. That meant that she was sitting beside my naked boob as the biopsy was being taken.... all I can say is that I now have a new level of relationship with my mother in law now that she has seen me naked!!!
Anyway, the surgeon went on to explain that the biopsy was like a gun firing, and he let me hear it first so that I knew what it would sound like. He then also told me every time he fired it. To be fair, the first 2 biopsies were fine - didn't feel a thing. The third one must have touched a bit that was not fully anaesthetised, so I started crying at that bit, just from shock I think.
Of course, trying to do the 'pull yourself together' bit, I switched to business professional mode, and asked how long the results would take, and if the hospital would phone me, or pop them in the post to me. The surgeon replied they would take a week, and I would have to make an appointment to come back the following week. So I was quite amenable and said "of course, that's fine".
My head was racing a bit though, as I was trying to work out how many days I needed off work, given that I also had a second round interview the following week.
So... when I was dressed again (after temporarily forgetting how to do up my bra), I was sitting in front of the surgeon's desk again waiting to hear what was happening next.
He then went onto explain that the Radiologist was sitting on the fence with diagnosing my lump, therefore it could be cancer, or it might not be, but the biopsy would give a definitive answer.
At this point, I just broke down. There was no inflection in his voice whatsoever, but I had spent an entire week telling everyone that it was just likely to be a cyst, and definitely not being a drama queen about anything, and I just don't think I was ready to hear the 'cancer' word. Which is stupid - my dad has just lived through and survived bladder cancer, but yet I was not prepared to hear it as a possibility.
The surgeon went on to explain that there was nothing certain, but maybe it would be worth taking the next week off to do nice things to distract myself, whilst waiting for the results. In a way that actually made it worse, as I have had a previous biopsy years ago and went straight back to work, so my head kind of went into a spin...
He also explained that when the local anaesthetic wore off, I may be in a bit of a pain for a wee while... I stuttered something about cancelling going to my job interview next week, and he did say that he didn't want to jeopardise my job prospects, at which point I think I maybe laughed and said that I had to go home to do psychometric testing that day if I was planning on going to interview... but the way I was feeling at that point, it may come out as a false reading of me being bi polar!
Anyway, I had thought I had got a hold of my emotions when he then said that anyone who may be at risk of cancer was normally offered the opportunity to speak to a breast cancer specialist nurse.... and did I want to see one today? At which point I started crying again... because I hadn't been told I had cancer.... I was still thinking I was coming in to treat a cyst....
So clearly... I wasn't thinking straight, so I did agree to see the nurse. She was lovely, but started off by telling me I was in shock, it had only been a week, and that she understood how much of trauma it was to come in thinking one thing, and then ending up getting bits cut out of me for a biopsy. She also went onto to say that if I did have breast cancer, it was the most treatable type of cancer and that she had recently discharged patients who had been clear of the illness for 10 years....
To be honest, at this point my head was struggling to take everything in. I mean... in my head... I was only expecting to get a cyst drained... or told it was maybe fatty tissue. It all seemed to escalate to the cancer word very quickly.
Anyway... I took her contact card, and made my way to the receptionist to make follow up appointment for the following week. By this point I had had a few texts from different people asking how I was... possibly unsurprising as I had told everyone i would be put by 10.30am and it was now 1pm!
Phoned husband and tried to be as calm and as factual a possible. Biopsy taken, week for results, may or may not be cancer. He did not react well. Sounded shocked. Told him he should maybe leave work and come home if he was not great with it.
Then took my mother in law for lunch, as by that point, I felt completely numb... but amazingly I was starving! I never have a hot main meal at lunch time, but went and had mince and tatties.... proper comfort food!
When I had taken a seat and had food, I had finally stopped shaking. I hadn't realised I was shaking until I stopped.... am guessing maybe shock and adrenaline maybe are big things.... anyway I then spent a few minutes trying to compose a text which would be factually correct but not panic inducing to close friends and family.
Clearly I did not make it non panic inducing enough. 😨
However I did take the decision to withdraw from the second round interview, as i just don't think I could have done it justice. Really surprisingly, both the Recruitment company and the chief executive of the organisation sent me really nice emails saying what an exceptional candidate I was, and they were sorry I was withdrawing - that was really nice, and gave me warm fuzzy feeling - I still have skills that people want in a workplace 😀😀😀.
Anyway... went home and spent rest of afternoon watching crap films and sleeping on the couch. Community tree lighting that night was ok, but was also of mindset that there was no point in pondering the worst.... so learned to put everything out of my mind, and to tell everyone to basically wait a week and see.
I decided that if i was going to be taking the week off, I was going to see it as a week's free annual leave to meet up with friends, be a lady that lunched and do stuff I never normally have time for. 😀😀😀
So... the Friday I caught up with a friend who is off sick herself at present - really good chat and good to chat about stuff going on with her.... she then came back to mine and we had a ladies night with my neighbours - much laughter and hilarity all round!
The Saturday I had a hair appointment in the morning... that was a tad awkward. My hairdresser started teasing me about getting my hair all cut short last time, so asked what were we going to do today.... well, I then had to say that we would stick with what we had because I was not sure what I would be doing next month.... yip, talk about awkward. See... I had previously committed to getting discount vouchers in December, to use in January and February... the trouble being that depending on the results of the biopsy, I may end up with no hair... anyway, after making her a little shell shocked, she asked me to let her know I got on...
Anyway - had a festive dinner out that night - lovely folk, and basically the wives sat on one side, and the husbands on the other... but good chat, and for the first time ever, I didn't have to drive.... so had a few glasses of prosecco 😀. Of course all our chat always turns to family plans over the holidays, family shenanigans and health updates.... so just explained that I was waiting on a biopsy and everything was good.
(This may sound macabre, but actually being open and blunt, with a laissez faire attitude actually helps me to deal with uncertainty...)
The Sunday I went across to Dunfermline to see one of my oldest friends... she had news of her own, so we spent a good few hours talking about stuff, making plans and also working through some difficult stuff...
Monday I went across to see one of my fellow work Directors and spent the morning chatting and putting the world to rights... she had also made excellent chocolate cake! After that it was a trip to the Kelvingrove museum - somewhere I had never been and wanted to go - and also to understand why it is so important to some people. 😀
Tuesday was catching up with one of my book club besties. She is so lovely but got really upset on my terms of worrying about me... but I took her through all possible scenarios and being perfectly honest, I was pointing out it's a good thing to be prepared for anything and everything.
Then on the Wednesday, mum and I went house hunting for my sis, involving driving to the borders, video cam footage, and checking out the local pubs for quality of atmosphere, food and drink.... it also involved taking random detours when we saw houses that we liked which were not on my sister's list lol 😀😀😀.
Of course, I didn't sleep very much during the week. It would be foolish and lying to say that I was cheery, relaxed and rested. Every night I had even worse insomnia than usual, and every night into the small hours I would google, and research different stuff. That was not in order to make me panic.... just to be prepared for the worst in case I did get bad news on the Thursday.
What the internet research did tell me, was that Americans really have a strange view of the world, but the UK based sites such as cancer care, and Macmillan are very good for finding out practical stuff, being honest and allaying any fears.
So the key things I was looking at were the different scenarios facing me. I either had a benign lump which was sore, so would need cut out of me in some way, shape or other. Or I had cancer which was fully treatable, but may require some shitty treatment in the short term. Or I had inflammatory breast cancer, where the survival rates beyond 2 years are pretty crap.
Any of those options were going to be ok... on the basis I couldn't do much about them anyhow, other than getting the appropriate treatment.
But I did start trying to go over everything I knew for sure (evidence gathering and analysis lol), and then comparing with my symptoms.
So... my symptoms...
Lump on underside of my left breast. Seemed to be about the size of a pea. Kind of in my breast but almost on the cusp of my rib cage.
Lump felt hard, but could be pushed around a bit. Not squashy but relatively near surface - just above where the band of my bra sits.
Breast was sore on a daily basis. (Breasts had been tender for a few weeks prior to me going to the doctor initially, where I joked with friends that if this was hormonal, I would rather have cancer than be pregnant.... how I laugh now with the irony!!!)
Lump did feel warm to the touch - but I have big boobs which ALWAYS feel warm to the touch.
I was having excessive sweating, especially at nights. And even when I was cold. But that could be pre-menopausal, or hypochondriacs anxiety! It could also be attributable to the fact that my 2 yorkies sleep beside me in bed and cuddle up one either side of me lol.
I had lost 4lbs in a few days. Normally this would be music to my ears.... and to be honest I had sweated loads... so I ate lots of cake and put the weight back on... 😀
Other than those things I didn't have any symptoms of ill health. I had the occasional headache, and also, maybe my driving concentration not great because of the breast pain (I refuse to take painkillers unless I feel like I am dying!), but otherwise I was generally ok.
All the websites that I read basically said that pain is "not normally" associated with cancer. Which I think actually does not help. I get the fact that most people will find lumps with no pain and would not think to get them checked because they are not sore... but actually those with pain then may think that they are in the clear because pain is good??? Or at least I kind of did... or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Anyway, my google history for this past week probably makes me look like a real morbid fucker. I am not really - I just plan for the worse and hope for the best.
Tomorrow is diagnosis day either way.
Mum and husband coming with me. I want my mum because she is my mum. She has also lived with dad through his cancer, and is also a trained nurse.
My husband doesn't get that. He thinks it should just be him.
Apart from the fact that I hate his driving, if I do get bad news, don't think he will cope very well. And to be honest, I can't carry his emotional baggage as well as my own. That might actually be a bit harsh on him - we have never gone through anything like this before.
Trying to be big, brave and strong. Just as well I am a good actress. But looking on the upside - it's just something else to get through. There will be a good end goal.
On a random side issue - my breast this week after the biopsy has gone some interesting colours! I had not appreciated that they would not take the biopsy from the top down, over the previously marked up circle... instead i have track marks in a whole line across my breast leading to the lump kind of on a sideways trajectory. From an observational basis - it's quite interesting. Breast is still sore but not from the biopsy I think. Just the same pain as before, but this time I am taking painkillers to dull it a bit.
Under my arms also now feel sore, so of course I am thinking that whatever is in me may be growing like an alien baby. But realistically I know that when I am stressed, tired, run down or fighting infections, all of my glands swell up everywhere. I look like a hamster. It's a very fetching look.
Anyway... let's see what tomorrow brings.
So... awake early, and headed to the hospital with my mother in law in tow. I had been concerned about getting parked, but thankfully there were still spaces left. Went to find where I was supposed to go first, and then retreated back to the wee cafe for tea and scones to kill some time.
At 9.30, we went through to the Outpatients 4, where I was told to go to Area 2. The place was actually full of mainly women over 60 / 70... and I remember thinking that I was too young to be here.
Anyway, I got called into be measured for my weight, and then I was called into see the surgeon. Had left my jacket and bag with my mother in law, so made it easier to sit and anxiously sweat in front of the surgeon and staff nurse. I was conscious that I had not put deodorant on that morning as I had read somewhere that that can muck up the readings on the mammogram - but with hindsight I think that may just be a load of tosh!
Anyhow - the surgeon was lovely and asked if he could examine my breasts, and then proceeded to check me all over, prior to him marking up dots around the lump, and getting his calipers out to measure it.
He explained that he would be sending me for a mammogram and an ultrasound, and then I would come back to him for a likely biopsy. All fine I said - I have had a cervical biopsy before and know they can be quite quick.
So myself and my mother in law toddle off through to the general x-ray department with my bit of paper with exams required on it, and I sat and waited. And waited. It was disconcerting as there were 2 other people in the waiting room who had the same first name as me, and when their names were called, I felt like a cat on a hot tin roof!
I felt bad for my mother in law, as I was useless company - didn't feel like talking so just sat in silence...
I think I was called for my mammogram after about an hour of waiting and that was an interesting experience from an observational capacity. Having never had one before, the radiographer had to tell me that she would position my breasts and I was just to relax. Well... that's all well and good, but I was literally half naked, my boobs were being kneaded like dough by a stranger, and then pushed flattish by a machine! I did manage to crack a joke though that made the technician smile, and I was also laughing at the fact that the marker dots had made a mirror image on my rib cage... the joys of big boobs and gravity!
After the mammogram, I was asked to wait outside until I was called for my ultrasound. The technician said that overall I could expect to be in the x ray department for up to 4 hrs.... at which point I possibly looked at her like she had 2 heads, as I was still working on the premise that I would be an hour and half - I had left 3 dogs roaming alone in the house thinking I was not going to be long!
Anyway... after maybe about another hour, I got called forward for my ultrasound... and again got naked from the waist up and lay on the bench as I waited for the radiologist to arrive. I got covered in the jelly stuff, and I spent most of my time trying to twist my head upwards and backwards to see what was going on, on the screen. (I should point out that clearly I have no knowledge of what ultrasound pictures actually mean, but there was no eureka moment, pictures of babies or aliens, and all I could actually see was a picture that looked grainy like a snow storm.)
The radiologist had a student in with her, and from their conversation I learned that my lymph nodes were clear, as was the rest of my breast. They were taking measurements of the cross section of lymph glands rather than the length, as people have diffferent lengths of lymph nodes you know 😀.
She also highlighted that she could not see any blood supply to the lump, and then ultimately she asked me if the lump had always been red and warm to the touch. I had to tell her that I didn't really know as I had only known about it for a week, but that my breasts were generally quite warm. She acknowledged that, and also said I had had a lot of poking and prodding that morning.
She then told me that she was not able to give me a diagnosis at that point, but that the surgeon would not need her to guide any needles into the deep tissue and that I should go back as planned to the surgeon, who would likely give me a biopsy - and if there was fluid present it would drain out then. She then proceeded to give me a small napkin to clean myself down with, and disappeared to give me privacy. The only problem being that the amount of gloopy jelly on my boob clearly needed more than a small napkin to clean up... so I ended up having to use the paper lining off the bed to help me mop up (honestly, the joys of big boobs are not always transparent!)
Once outside, my mother in law and I headed back to OPD 4, where the surgeon called me in almost immediately, and apologised for the delay it had taken to see me again.
When I was inside his office, he actually asked me if I wanted my mum in with me... I laughed and said it was my mother in law, but that was fine. With hindsight, maybe I should have known they were maybe prepping me for potential bad news, given I had done everything else all morning by myself!
Anyhow, he explained he was going to to do a core needle biopsy, and he would give me a local anaesthetic first... "a little prick?", I asked giggling 😀... He then compounded my laughter by saying it would be "a little nippy"... my laughter dried up though when he then explained that he was just going to then make a "small incision" in my breast.... I mean, that wasn't part of the deal!! I was thinking quick needle in and out, and I would be done in 2 minutes!
I should also point out at this juncture that my poor mother in law had been invited in by now, and was sitting beside me as all this was going on. Literally right beside me. That meant that she was sitting beside my naked boob as the biopsy was being taken.... all I can say is that I now have a new level of relationship with my mother in law now that she has seen me naked!!!
Anyway, the surgeon went on to explain that the biopsy was like a gun firing, and he let me hear it first so that I knew what it would sound like. He then also told me every time he fired it. To be fair, the first 2 biopsies were fine - didn't feel a thing. The third one must have touched a bit that was not fully anaesthetised, so I started crying at that bit, just from shock I think.
Of course, trying to do the 'pull yourself together' bit, I switched to business professional mode, and asked how long the results would take, and if the hospital would phone me, or pop them in the post to me. The surgeon replied they would take a week, and I would have to make an appointment to come back the following week. So I was quite amenable and said "of course, that's fine".
My head was racing a bit though, as I was trying to work out how many days I needed off work, given that I also had a second round interview the following week.
So... when I was dressed again (after temporarily forgetting how to do up my bra), I was sitting in front of the surgeon's desk again waiting to hear what was happening next.
He then went onto explain that the Radiologist was sitting on the fence with diagnosing my lump, therefore it could be cancer, or it might not be, but the biopsy would give a definitive answer.
At this point, I just broke down. There was no inflection in his voice whatsoever, but I had spent an entire week telling everyone that it was just likely to be a cyst, and definitely not being a drama queen about anything, and I just don't think I was ready to hear the 'cancer' word. Which is stupid - my dad has just lived through and survived bladder cancer, but yet I was not prepared to hear it as a possibility.
The surgeon went on to explain that there was nothing certain, but maybe it would be worth taking the next week off to do nice things to distract myself, whilst waiting for the results. In a way that actually made it worse, as I have had a previous biopsy years ago and went straight back to work, so my head kind of went into a spin...
He also explained that when the local anaesthetic wore off, I may be in a bit of a pain for a wee while... I stuttered something about cancelling going to my job interview next week, and he did say that he didn't want to jeopardise my job prospects, at which point I think I maybe laughed and said that I had to go home to do psychometric testing that day if I was planning on going to interview... but the way I was feeling at that point, it may come out as a false reading of me being bi polar!
Anyway, I had thought I had got a hold of my emotions when he then said that anyone who may be at risk of cancer was normally offered the opportunity to speak to a breast cancer specialist nurse.... and did I want to see one today? At which point I started crying again... because I hadn't been told I had cancer.... I was still thinking I was coming in to treat a cyst....
So clearly... I wasn't thinking straight, so I did agree to see the nurse. She was lovely, but started off by telling me I was in shock, it had only been a week, and that she understood how much of trauma it was to come in thinking one thing, and then ending up getting bits cut out of me for a biopsy. She also went onto to say that if I did have breast cancer, it was the most treatable type of cancer and that she had recently discharged patients who had been clear of the illness for 10 years....
To be honest, at this point my head was struggling to take everything in. I mean... in my head... I was only expecting to get a cyst drained... or told it was maybe fatty tissue. It all seemed to escalate to the cancer word very quickly.
Anyway... I took her contact card, and made my way to the receptionist to make follow up appointment for the following week. By this point I had had a few texts from different people asking how I was... possibly unsurprising as I had told everyone i would be put by 10.30am and it was now 1pm!
Phoned husband and tried to be as calm and as factual a possible. Biopsy taken, week for results, may or may not be cancer. He did not react well. Sounded shocked. Told him he should maybe leave work and come home if he was not great with it.
Then took my mother in law for lunch, as by that point, I felt completely numb... but amazingly I was starving! I never have a hot main meal at lunch time, but went and had mince and tatties.... proper comfort food!
When I had taken a seat and had food, I had finally stopped shaking. I hadn't realised I was shaking until I stopped.... am guessing maybe shock and adrenaline maybe are big things.... anyway I then spent a few minutes trying to compose a text which would be factually correct but not panic inducing to close friends and family.
Clearly I did not make it non panic inducing enough. 😨
However I did take the decision to withdraw from the second round interview, as i just don't think I could have done it justice. Really surprisingly, both the Recruitment company and the chief executive of the organisation sent me really nice emails saying what an exceptional candidate I was, and they were sorry I was withdrawing - that was really nice, and gave me warm fuzzy feeling - I still have skills that people want in a workplace 😀😀😀.
Anyway... went home and spent rest of afternoon watching crap films and sleeping on the couch. Community tree lighting that night was ok, but was also of mindset that there was no point in pondering the worst.... so learned to put everything out of my mind, and to tell everyone to basically wait a week and see.
I decided that if i was going to be taking the week off, I was going to see it as a week's free annual leave to meet up with friends, be a lady that lunched and do stuff I never normally have time for. 😀😀😀
So... the Friday I caught up with a friend who is off sick herself at present - really good chat and good to chat about stuff going on with her.... she then came back to mine and we had a ladies night with my neighbours - much laughter and hilarity all round!
The Saturday I had a hair appointment in the morning... that was a tad awkward. My hairdresser started teasing me about getting my hair all cut short last time, so asked what were we going to do today.... well, I then had to say that we would stick with what we had because I was not sure what I would be doing next month.... yip, talk about awkward. See... I had previously committed to getting discount vouchers in December, to use in January and February... the trouble being that depending on the results of the biopsy, I may end up with no hair... anyway, after making her a little shell shocked, she asked me to let her know I got on...
Anyway - had a festive dinner out that night - lovely folk, and basically the wives sat on one side, and the husbands on the other... but good chat, and for the first time ever, I didn't have to drive.... so had a few glasses of prosecco 😀. Of course all our chat always turns to family plans over the holidays, family shenanigans and health updates.... so just explained that I was waiting on a biopsy and everything was good.
(This may sound macabre, but actually being open and blunt, with a laissez faire attitude actually helps me to deal with uncertainty...)
The Sunday I went across to Dunfermline to see one of my oldest friends... she had news of her own, so we spent a good few hours talking about stuff, making plans and also working through some difficult stuff...
Monday I went across to see one of my fellow work Directors and spent the morning chatting and putting the world to rights... she had also made excellent chocolate cake! After that it was a trip to the Kelvingrove museum - somewhere I had never been and wanted to go - and also to understand why it is so important to some people. 😀
Tuesday was catching up with one of my book club besties. She is so lovely but got really upset on my terms of worrying about me... but I took her through all possible scenarios and being perfectly honest, I was pointing out it's a good thing to be prepared for anything and everything.
Then on the Wednesday, mum and I went house hunting for my sis, involving driving to the borders, video cam footage, and checking out the local pubs for quality of atmosphere, food and drink.... it also involved taking random detours when we saw houses that we liked which were not on my sister's list lol 😀😀😀.
Of course, I didn't sleep very much during the week. It would be foolish and lying to say that I was cheery, relaxed and rested. Every night I had even worse insomnia than usual, and every night into the small hours I would google, and research different stuff. That was not in order to make me panic.... just to be prepared for the worst in case I did get bad news on the Thursday.
What the internet research did tell me, was that Americans really have a strange view of the world, but the UK based sites such as cancer care, and Macmillan are very good for finding out practical stuff, being honest and allaying any fears.
So the key things I was looking at were the different scenarios facing me. I either had a benign lump which was sore, so would need cut out of me in some way, shape or other. Or I had cancer which was fully treatable, but may require some shitty treatment in the short term. Or I had inflammatory breast cancer, where the survival rates beyond 2 years are pretty crap.
Any of those options were going to be ok... on the basis I couldn't do much about them anyhow, other than getting the appropriate treatment.
But I did start trying to go over everything I knew for sure (evidence gathering and analysis lol), and then comparing with my symptoms.
So... my symptoms...
Lump on underside of my left breast. Seemed to be about the size of a pea. Kind of in my breast but almost on the cusp of my rib cage.
Lump felt hard, but could be pushed around a bit. Not squashy but relatively near surface - just above where the band of my bra sits.
Breast was sore on a daily basis. (Breasts had been tender for a few weeks prior to me going to the doctor initially, where I joked with friends that if this was hormonal, I would rather have cancer than be pregnant.... how I laugh now with the irony!!!)
Lump did feel warm to the touch - but I have big boobs which ALWAYS feel warm to the touch.
I was having excessive sweating, especially at nights. And even when I was cold. But that could be pre-menopausal, or hypochondriacs anxiety! It could also be attributable to the fact that my 2 yorkies sleep beside me in bed and cuddle up one either side of me lol.
I had lost 4lbs in a few days. Normally this would be music to my ears.... and to be honest I had sweated loads... so I ate lots of cake and put the weight back on... 😀
Other than those things I didn't have any symptoms of ill health. I had the occasional headache, and also, maybe my driving concentration not great because of the breast pain (I refuse to take painkillers unless I feel like I am dying!), but otherwise I was generally ok.
All the websites that I read basically said that pain is "not normally" associated with cancer. Which I think actually does not help. I get the fact that most people will find lumps with no pain and would not think to get them checked because they are not sore... but actually those with pain then may think that they are in the clear because pain is good??? Or at least I kind of did... or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Anyway, my google history for this past week probably makes me look like a real morbid fucker. I am not really - I just plan for the worse and hope for the best.
Tomorrow is diagnosis day either way.
Mum and husband coming with me. I want my mum because she is my mum. She has also lived with dad through his cancer, and is also a trained nurse.
My husband doesn't get that. He thinks it should just be him.
Apart from the fact that I hate his driving, if I do get bad news, don't think he will cope very well. And to be honest, I can't carry his emotional baggage as well as my own. That might actually be a bit harsh on him - we have never gone through anything like this before.
Trying to be big, brave and strong. Just as well I am a good actress. But looking on the upside - it's just something else to get through. There will be a good end goal.
On a random side issue - my breast this week after the biopsy has gone some interesting colours! I had not appreciated that they would not take the biopsy from the top down, over the previously marked up circle... instead i have track marks in a whole line across my breast leading to the lump kind of on a sideways trajectory. From an observational basis - it's quite interesting. Breast is still sore but not from the biopsy I think. Just the same pain as before, but this time I am taking painkillers to dull it a bit.
Under my arms also now feel sore, so of course I am thinking that whatever is in me may be growing like an alien baby. But realistically I know that when I am stressed, tired, run down or fighting infections, all of my glands swell up everywhere. I look like a hamster. It's a very fetching look.
Anyway... let's see what tomorrow brings.
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