It was Herceptin round 13 today, unlucky number for some, but I'm thinking lucky last of the year and now it means I only have 4 to go.
It also means it's one step closer to the end of 2016, a year that I am exceptionally glad to be saying good bye to. Not just because it's been a rough year for me, but also because of the number of relatives and friends of family who have passed away this year, some far too young.
I am tired, I may even go to bed early New Years Eve, or I may have a sudden burst of energy and put on Wham! down at Fergusson Park and dance naked to Wake me up before you go go.. while watching the fire works.
You have been warned, strange white lights seen over Tauranga may just be me flashing my magnificent boobs, scars and all
Farewell 2016, don't let the door slam you on the arse on the way out
This post is in memory of George Michael and Jim, Mona, Caroline, Jackie, Isla S, and Alvara
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIgZ7gMze7A
Thursday, 29 December 2016
Thursday, 8 December 2016
Rumour has it.....
YES - Cinders does get to go to the ball
I have tickets to Adele, I had a gut feeling she'd put on another concert and she has delivered! Thanks to the coordinated efforts of Patsy and her sister (who needs an alias too) who were able to go online as soon as ticket sales opened and watch and wait like vampires out for blood, I shall be going to the Saturday show, 2 days after my last treatment.
I feel Adele owes me, I have had to go thru physio to my knee after my little "last of chemo celebration" boogie to her song.
Today was round 12 of herceptin, slight issue finding a vein but Nurse Jenny did it again, so done and dusted.
Bit disconcerting to see a Xmas tree up in the treatment room and realising my next round is AFTER Xmas which means there's less than 3 weeks to go...
This week's post is in memory of Molly, a stroppy cat with attitude but who stayed by my side whenever I was down and tired. Even if it was just in case I made a move to the kitchen...
I have tickets to Adele, I had a gut feeling she'd put on another concert and she has delivered! Thanks to the coordinated efforts of Patsy and her sister (who needs an alias too) who were able to go online as soon as ticket sales opened and watch and wait like vampires out for blood, I shall be going to the Saturday show, 2 days after my last treatment.
I feel Adele owes me, I have had to go thru physio to my knee after my little "last of chemo celebration" boogie to her song.
Today was round 12 of herceptin, slight issue finding a vein but Nurse Jenny did it again, so done and dusted.
Bit disconcerting to see a Xmas tree up in the treatment room and realising my next round is AFTER Xmas which means there's less than 3 weeks to go...
This week's post is in memory of Molly, a stroppy cat with attitude but who stayed by my side whenever I was down and tired. Even if it was just in case I made a move to the kitchen...
 |
| Keeping me company when 4pm radiation tiredness hit |
 |
| What else is a planter pot for? |
 |
| We're watching my show! |
Friday, 18 November 2016
The final countdown...
This week during my treatment, I finally remembered to ask how many rounds of Herceptin I have left and was overjoyed to hear the Nurse say "well this is round 11 of 17 so you've got 6 more to go"
I do love a countdown, happy happy joy joy
I thought I'd worked it out right, so unless the schedule changes my last lot is (queue the drum roll) ..........................................................................
23rd March 2017
...and wouldn't you know it, this is the ONLY date that Adele is playing in NZ. I could probably do both - what a way to celebrate!
I'm also happy to report that after much procrastination and thinking it would be too hard because I haven't been since March and I'd probably have to stop after 10 minutes and that would be mortifying, I ran out of excuses and dragged my arse to Spin class on Tuesday.
It was with much trepidation that I got on that machine, when there was just 10 minutes to go and I knew I was actually going to make it thru the whole class I was so super proud of myself I almost started to cry.
So another one ticked off the list of "this means my life is getting back to normal"
..and the final countdown begins....
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jK-NcRmVcw
https://goo.gl/images/Dnr9th
I do love a countdown, happy happy joy joy
I thought I'd worked it out right, so unless the schedule changes my last lot is (queue the drum roll) ..........................................................................
23rd March 2017
...and wouldn't you know it, this is the ONLY date that Adele is playing in NZ. I could probably do both - what a way to celebrate!
I'm also happy to report that after much procrastination and thinking it would be too hard because I haven't been since March and I'd probably have to stop after 10 minutes and that would be mortifying, I ran out of excuses and dragged my arse to Spin class on Tuesday.
It was with much trepidation that I got on that machine, when there was just 10 minutes to go and I knew I was actually going to make it thru the whole class I was so super proud of myself I almost started to cry.
So another one ticked off the list of "this means my life is getting back to normal"
..and the final countdown begins....
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jK-NcRmVcw
https://goo.gl/images/Dnr9th
Sunday, 6 November 2016
Hair!
I took photos of my hair growth progression and turned it into a video
would rather procrastinate by doing this than tidying the spare room which is OUT OF CONTROL
would rather procrastinate by doing this than tidying the spare room which is OUT OF CONTROL
Sunday, 30 October 2016
Jagged little pill
I discovered that my recent muscle pain and feeling tired in the afternoons were due to my daily hormone treatment pill "Arimidex". I was ok for the first month on it but have gradually been getting more aches
Forgot to take it one night and didn't realise until about mid-day the next day. Didn't want to stuff up the timing so decided I'd just skip a day, then realised I was feeling great, no aches and more energy. Took it that night and it was back to aching muscles up the backs of my legs and my lower back, and feeling really tired.
Managed to get an appointment for the oncology clinic a few days later and I was all prepared for having to make a tough call on whether to stop taking it when the registrar said "It's ok, there's another 2 drugs we can put you on, we'll see how you go on Letrozole" so we'll see.
This week's hereceptin went with no problems at all, and lots of comments from the nurses about how great my hair was looking. I've had a few people stroke my head to see if it feels as soft as it looks - and yes it does, it's how you'd imagine a cuddly polar bear cub's fur feels like
Forgot to take it one night and didn't realise until about mid-day the next day. Didn't want to stuff up the timing so decided I'd just skip a day, then realised I was feeling great, no aches and more energy. Took it that night and it was back to aching muscles up the backs of my legs and my lower back, and feeling really tired.
Managed to get an appointment for the oncology clinic a few days later and I was all prepared for having to make a tough call on whether to stop taking it when the registrar said "It's ok, there's another 2 drugs we can put you on, we'll see how you go on Letrozole" so we'll see.
This week's hereceptin went with no problems at all, and lots of comments from the nurses about how great my hair was looking. I've had a few people stroke my head to see if it feels as soft as it looks - and yes it does, it's how you'd imagine a cuddly polar bear cub's fur feels like
Friday, 21 October 2016
"Don't worry, bout a thing.." (HER2 vs Triple negative)
Here's my attempt at explaining why HER2 positive may not be so bad
HER2 status is one of the things tested when you have a breast cancer biopsy and it takes a while for the result, I guess because they have several tests they do and some take a while to cultivate? Mine kept coming back as ambiguous until the final FISH test which was positive. You also get tested for other receptors like oestrogen and progesterone, mine were all positive which means that hormone treatments are options for me and Herceptin is also an option.
If you test as triple negative it means hormone treatments and herceptin aren't going to be an option.
Getting diagnosed as triple negative or HER2 positive also means you have a more aggressive type of cancer.
The way I'm choosing to look at it is this. I may be unlucky enough to get cancer in the first place and it's scary knowing that it's more aggressive but mine got picked up early, it is invasive but it hasn't spread anywhere else, it isn't in my lymph nodes, the surgeon is confident he got it all and with clear margins. I've had chemo to be absolutely sure there's nothing lurking, I'm being treated with herceptin - the wonder drug. I've finished radiation and started taking Arimidex every day which is a hormone treatment.
So it's kind of like my body is a house and it's under threat of alien invasion but I'm being protected by teams of elite military dudes with the latest high tech equipment and light sabers and round the clock surveillance and Starsky and Hutch are there too and on top of all that Dirty Harry is at the gate saying "Come on punk make my day" and blowing away anyone even approaching the property because he just doesn't like the way they look at him
Whereas someone who's triple negative just has a simple burglar alarm with no back up team to try and stop them getting in.
Either way, you don't want anything to sneak into your house and trash the place.
HER2 status is one of the things tested when you have a breast cancer biopsy and it takes a while for the result, I guess because they have several tests they do and some take a while to cultivate? Mine kept coming back as ambiguous until the final FISH test which was positive. You also get tested for other receptors like oestrogen and progesterone, mine were all positive which means that hormone treatments are options for me and Herceptin is also an option.
If you test as triple negative it means hormone treatments and herceptin aren't going to be an option.
Getting diagnosed as triple negative or HER2 positive also means you have a more aggressive type of cancer.
The way I'm choosing to look at it is this. I may be unlucky enough to get cancer in the first place and it's scary knowing that it's more aggressive but mine got picked up early, it is invasive but it hasn't spread anywhere else, it isn't in my lymph nodes, the surgeon is confident he got it all and with clear margins. I've had chemo to be absolutely sure there's nothing lurking, I'm being treated with herceptin - the wonder drug. I've finished radiation and started taking Arimidex every day which is a hormone treatment.
So it's kind of like my body is a house and it's under threat of alien invasion but I'm being protected by teams of elite military dudes with the latest high tech equipment and light sabers and round the clock surveillance and Starsky and Hutch are there too and on top of all that Dirty Harry is at the gate saying "Come on punk make my day" and blowing away anyone even approaching the property because he just doesn't like the way they look at him
Whereas someone who's triple negative just has a simple burglar alarm with no back up team to try and stop them getting in.
Either way, you don't want anything to sneak into your house and trash the place.
Friday, 7 October 2016
Always look on the bright side of life
I figured out I'm about 1/2 way thru my herceptin rounds, so it should be plain sailing now - right?
Yesterday I sat myself in a different chair again, I think I'll have sat in them all by the time I'm done which is an ambition of mine, except the ones in the side rooms. No one wants to go in them, they have beds and all sorts of medical equipment and the really sick people go in them. When people come out of those rooms they're usually wheeled out in a chair or bed and their loved ones always look a bit shell shocked. So I'm not going there.
I think this chair was jinxed, right from the start it wasn't comfortable, no view and the volunteer who always has the home baked shortbread wasn't there. I won't be sitting here again, I thought as I waited to be hooked up.
I gave fair warning to the RN not to try the bad side of my hand, it's troublesome and still bruised from last time. So then there was a lot of flexing of my hand, turning it over, tapping and then she decided to go for the middle of the back of my hand, kind of in line with my middle finger. This stings like you wouldn't believe. Deep breaths, "there's people dying in Syria with cluster bombs this is nothing, don't be a wuss" is what ran thru my mind. But at least it went in.
Then once everything was set the pump started making strange sounds like it was going too fast, and my hand was stinging a bit so I was looking at it and saw a bit of blood in the tube, nothing to worry about. Tried to concentrate on my magazine, the pump starts vibrating it's going so fast, I look at my hand again and now the blood is going up the line. That's not good, I start to panic, looking around, can't see a Nurse they're all on the other side, can't see a buzzer, can't remember what button you're supposed to push to stop it. (Can't really miss it, it's the big red STOP button) Get out of my chair, damn thing almost tripped me up, I think it's possessed, try to unplug the pump so I can take it with me to where the Nurses are, can't reach the damn plug, because the evil devil possessed chair is somehow sitting on top of one of the legs of the pump stand. I see a Nurse, her name is Jenny, she's come out of the back office room with a tray of mugs, she's about to go round the corner to the other side, I start calling "Jenny, Jenny" like bloody Forrest Gump. Thank god she hears me, she sees my face and notices I appear to be doing the tango with the pump and the evil devil possessed chair, rushes over still with the tray, sees the blood, says "Ooh, we'd better fix that" hits the STOP button, the pump stops vibrating, but now the machine beeps (it's supposed to when you hit stop) and Jenny checks the tubing, can't see anything's wrong, starts it up again and the drug bag starts flowing again. By now I'm back in the chair which is acting all innocent, nothing to see here. Jenny continues with her tray, I go back to my magazine, Jenny had to pick it up off the floor for me.
My heart is just going back to normal as I'm reading about the Brangelina scandal and then the pump starts beeping and displaying "Air in line", this time another Nurse comes over, checks all the tubes again, then spots the tiniest of kinks in the line right at the very top. Unkinks it and starts flicking the line to clear it. By this time another 2 nurses have come to see what all the beeping is about, someone says "The pump just about shat itself with this kink in the line" I'm thinking "it's not the only one" finally the line is cleared, the pump starts working again and I'm back on track.
All this means my normal 40 minute treatment took about 60 minutes but on the bright side - no bruise! Lesson learned, avoid Darth Vader chairs, and find out what day the lady who bakes the shortbread comes in. Only I'm not changing my days... that's inviting trouble
Monday, 19 September 2016
Doctor Doctor
Saw the radiation specialist today and she's very happy with me, says my skin looks great and that you can hardly tell I've had anything done, she'll see me in a year and I'm now under Oncology care only.
In and out including examination in 12 minutes. I'm so rocking these appointments now.
Here's a sample of some of the medical discussions I've had
Medical speak
The Dr would like you to come in to discuss your result
It's not going to be good
There's an area of concern
I'm about to give you bad news
I don't recall any of my other patients driving themselves to their lymphoscintography
Are you kidding me! What were you thinking, don't do that again.
I don't want you to be too concerned but...
Don't freak out on me
It's not usual
You're a freak
We'll give it another go
OMG I'm freaking out
How do you feel about that?
Please don't freak out
I'm very pleased and have no concerns
Yes - doing a happy dance, I love giving good news
Vs Patient speak
Can't you just tell me over the phone?
I know it's not going to be good
I'd rather you just did the biopsy now
I'm a high flight risk when it comes to needles
Why don't "we" just do a mastectomy
I want to be done with this and always wanted perky little "A"s
I'm a little bit anxious about that
Holy cow I'm absolutely freaking out!
The leaflet said you could drive yourself after the lymphoscintography procedure
Dude, don't worry it's fine
Ok - well that's not great, but I guess it could be worse
OMG!, WTF!
Oh that's great - thank you
Whoop, whoop, I could kiss you, probably best not to, maybe I should hug you instead, no that might freak you out, can I do a happy dance now? God I hope I don't start crying, deep breath. Hope I've got wine in the fridge...
Doctor Doctor
In and out including examination in 12 minutes. I'm so rocking these appointments now.
Here's a sample of some of the medical discussions I've had
Medical speak
The Dr would like you to come in to discuss your result
It's not going to be good
There's an area of concern
I'm about to give you bad news
I don't recall any of my other patients driving themselves to their lymphoscintography
Are you kidding me! What were you thinking, don't do that again.
I don't want you to be too concerned but...
Don't freak out on me
It's not usual
You're a freak
We'll give it another go
OMG I'm freaking out
How do you feel about that?
Please don't freak out
I'm very pleased and have no concerns
Yes - doing a happy dance, I love giving good news
Vs Patient speak
Can't you just tell me over the phone?
I know it's not going to be good
I'd rather you just did the biopsy now
I'm a high flight risk when it comes to needles
Why don't "we" just do a mastectomy
I want to be done with this and always wanted perky little "A"s
I'm a little bit anxious about that
Holy cow I'm absolutely freaking out!
The leaflet said you could drive yourself after the lymphoscintography procedure
Dude, don't worry it's fine
Ok - well that's not great, but I guess it could be worse
OMG!, WTF!
Oh that's great - thank you
Whoop, whoop, I could kiss you, probably best not to, maybe I should hug you instead, no that might freak you out, can I do a happy dance now? God I hope I don't start crying, deep breath. Hope I've got wine in the fridge...
Doctor Doctor
Wednesday, 7 September 2016
Wake Me Up When September Ends
I've decided to use songs as post titles and this one sums me up at the moment.
I'm a bit over this cancer thing and just want to get on with my life but bloody cancer keeps interfering.
It would seem my little solo dance party celebrating the end of chemo has created an issue with my knee, plus I have a few spots/rash on my leg.
So I've been to my GP... oh how he laughed when I told him how I injured myself. The rash could be either
A. A drug reaction
B. Dermatitis from god knows what
C. A fungus????
He sent me to Pathlab to get skin scrapings of the rash and I've to go to physio for treatment on the knee.
5 days later and the rash appears to be going and I had my first physio appointment. I've probably aggravated a previous knee ligament tear, he gave me some acupuncture, and I'm to have a few treatments. As I was going he told me that I could walk but no "twist and shout dancing" Yep, he also laughed when I told him the cause. I do like to leave the medical professionals laughing
I am back at work part-time this week, thought I'd be ok but am finding half days are more than enough and that's getting me down. I know that I have a lot to be thankful for, and I need to be patient because I still have another week and a half of my "it will take 3 weeks to recover from radiation" but I am sick of random tiredness.
On the bright side I had an entertaining visit from my friend Kaye at the weekend, it was good to get out, even if it was just to the movies, but what a great one it was - go and see Poi E: The story of our song
Eating KFC and drinking G&Ts also helped, and laughing about me trying to get a
urine sample from my cat. Mission accomplished and Molly's way better
I'm a bit over this cancer thing and just want to get on with my life but bloody cancer keeps interfering.
It would seem my little solo dance party celebrating the end of chemo has created an issue with my knee, plus I have a few spots/rash on my leg.
So I've been to my GP... oh how he laughed when I told him how I injured myself. The rash could be either
A. A drug reaction
B. Dermatitis from god knows what
C. A fungus????
He sent me to Pathlab to get skin scrapings of the rash and I've to go to physio for treatment on the knee.
5 days later and the rash appears to be going and I had my first physio appointment. I've probably aggravated a previous knee ligament tear, he gave me some acupuncture, and I'm to have a few treatments. As I was going he told me that I could walk but no "twist and shout dancing" Yep, he also laughed when I told him the cause. I do like to leave the medical professionals laughing
I am back at work part-time this week, thought I'd be ok but am finding half days are more than enough and that's getting me down. I know that I have a lot to be thankful for, and I need to be patient because I still have another week and a half of my "it will take 3 weeks to recover from radiation" but I am sick of random tiredness.
On the bright side I had an entertaining visit from my friend Kaye at the weekend, it was good to get out, even if it was just to the movies, but what a great one it was - go and see Poi E: The story of our song
Eating KFC and drinking G&Ts also helped, and laughing about me trying to get a
urine sample from my cat. Mission accomplished and Molly's way better
Monday, 29 August 2016
Won't you take me to Funky Town...
My appointment with the Oncologist this morning was to talk about the drug I'm to take every day for 5 years....gulp!
The drug is Arimidex or Anastrozole and it has a list of possible side effects as long as my arm, however that doesn't mean I'll get all of them, some of them, or any of them. I have 1 month's supply and then I see the Oncologist again to see how I'm going, if I can't tolerate the side effects then there's another one to try. The registrar said most people get menopause symptoms like hot flushes, and I'll have to have bone scans to check my bone mass. If I have an issue with hot flushes then they can give me an antidepressant which apparently helps with that.
I then went to the gym to start exercising, I've been told to go gentle at first so just went in to do 10 mins on a bike and 10 on the treadmill. Made a HUGE mistake of weighing myself halfway through, extremely depressing... I started to have a moment when I was on the treadmill, heading to pity city with every step, thinking about how long it's going to take to get this weight off and how long 5 years is taking a pill every day and I actually started to cry before I pulled myself together. Really quite pathetic as I take vitamins every day! I thought about going back to the Cancer Centre and saying to the registrar "you might as well hand over those bloody anti-depressants now!"
I think I'm out of pity city for now and my aim is to get to Funky Town, without the aid of yet another drug.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnejLmQGYhg
The drug is Arimidex or Anastrozole and it has a list of possible side effects as long as my arm, however that doesn't mean I'll get all of them, some of them, or any of them. I have 1 month's supply and then I see the Oncologist again to see how I'm going, if I can't tolerate the side effects then there's another one to try. The registrar said most people get menopause symptoms like hot flushes, and I'll have to have bone scans to check my bone mass. If I have an issue with hot flushes then they can give me an antidepressant which apparently helps with that.
I then went to the gym to start exercising, I've been told to go gentle at first so just went in to do 10 mins on a bike and 10 on the treadmill. Made a HUGE mistake of weighing myself halfway through, extremely depressing... I started to have a moment when I was on the treadmill, heading to pity city with every step, thinking about how long it's going to take to get this weight off and how long 5 years is taking a pill every day and I actually started to cry before I pulled myself together. Really quite pathetic as I take vitamins every day! I thought about going back to the Cancer Centre and saying to the registrar "you might as well hand over those bloody anti-depressants now!"
I think I'm out of pity city for now and my aim is to get to Funky Town, without the aid of yet another drug.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnejLmQGYhg
Wednesday, 24 August 2016
The big three are done
Surgery - tick
Chemotherapy - tick
Radiation - tick
I feel like I've got off lightly, I'm really lucky that I haven't had any nasty side effects. I've pretty much sailed through everything thrown at me so far (and I've got my fingers crossed as I'm typing this, how awesome am I!) My pink boob is now starting to itch so I'm armed with a prescription for hydrocortisone cream to deal with that if it gets worse
The next step is Herceptin tomorrow and continuing every 3 weeks for about another 7 months. I also have my Oncologist specialist appointment on Monday morning and that will be to talk about what on going drug I'll need to take for 5 years.
I'm told to allow 3 weeks to recover from my radiation treatment and that people usually get hit with side effects afterwards. I am taking a week's sick leave and even if physically I'm ok, I really need this time psychologically. I'm still standing, and my hair has started to grow back, but my eyelashes have now fallen out and most of my eyebrows too, my eyes have those dark "chemo circles" underneath and some of my toenails are purple. I just want the world to stop for a bit, crawl into my cave and hibernate for a little while.
On a lighter note, back by popular demand, another one of my fabulous drawings. I'm attempting to show how many machines have been around me during radiation. Once they zapped me to the right of my boob from behind, the machines rotated around and then I got zapped from the left to target the other side of the same boob. When it got to that side the machine that did the actual zapping was closer to my face, and I could see the whole thing. A bit off putting and I tried to think of anything I could to distract me from thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
One of the radiation techs looks very like David Walliams the British comedian who is also a judge on Xfactor. When his double was on duty I usually ended up thinking that I was a contestant on Xfactor and David was about to hit the golden buzzer for my incredible talent at lying still....and then I had to stop myself from laughing.
What they don't tell you in the leaflet is that you could bite through your tongue to stop yourself laughing, because it's impossible to laugh without moving your body. I should write the leaflets eh!
Chemotherapy - tick
Radiation - tick
I feel like I've got off lightly, I'm really lucky that I haven't had any nasty side effects. I've pretty much sailed through everything thrown at me so far (and I've got my fingers crossed as I'm typing this, how awesome am I!) My pink boob is now starting to itch so I'm armed with a prescription for hydrocortisone cream to deal with that if it gets worse
The next step is Herceptin tomorrow and continuing every 3 weeks for about another 7 months. I also have my Oncologist specialist appointment on Monday morning and that will be to talk about what on going drug I'll need to take for 5 years.
I'm told to allow 3 weeks to recover from my radiation treatment and that people usually get hit with side effects afterwards. I am taking a week's sick leave and even if physically I'm ok, I really need this time psychologically. I'm still standing, and my hair has started to grow back, but my eyelashes have now fallen out and most of my eyebrows too, my eyes have those dark "chemo circles" underneath and some of my toenails are purple. I just want the world to stop for a bit, crawl into my cave and hibernate for a little while.
On a lighter note, back by popular demand, another one of my fabulous drawings. I'm attempting to show how many machines have been around me during radiation. Once they zapped me to the right of my boob from behind, the machines rotated around and then I got zapped from the left to target the other side of the same boob. When it got to that side the machine that did the actual zapping was closer to my face, and I could see the whole thing. A bit off putting and I tried to think of anything I could to distract me from thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
One of the radiation techs looks very like David Walliams the British comedian who is also a judge on Xfactor. When his double was on duty I usually ended up thinking that I was a contestant on Xfactor and David was about to hit the golden buzzer for my incredible talent at lying still....and then I had to stop myself from laughing.
What they don't tell you in the leaflet is that you could bite through your tongue to stop yourself laughing, because it's impossible to laugh without moving your body. I should write the leaflets eh!
 |
| My view during radiation |
 |
| She's got my vote |
Thursday, 18 August 2016
P!nk
My right boob is now pink, like I've been sunbathing with only 1 boob out
No pain, a bit of radiating heat that's all. Occasionally a little bit tired but I'm still working every day.
On Wednesdays I only work a half day as the treatment time is earlier, and this week I got my discounted massage thru the Cancer Society afterwards. A 1/2 hour of bliss and I was so relaxed when I got home I snoozed on the couch in the sun for an hour. That tired me out so much I ended up crashing on the bed for another hour.
Me and my pink boob only have another 5 radiation treatments to go!
No pain, a bit of radiating heat that's all. Occasionally a little bit tired but I'm still working every day.
On Wednesdays I only work a half day as the treatment time is earlier, and this week I got my discounted massage thru the Cancer Society afterwards. A 1/2 hour of bliss and I was so relaxed when I got home I snoozed on the couch in the sun for an hour. That tired me out so much I ended up crashing on the bed for another hour.
Me and my pink boob only have another 5 radiation treatments to go!
Wednesday, 10 August 2016
A good news day
I had my visit to the radiologist specialist this morning which was a quick check in to see how I was going. (All good so far, thanks for asking)
I mentioned that I had my MRI last week but hadn't heard anything yet and I was guessing that "no news is good news". The specialist checked for me and said "It is good news" then she read out the report. Basically the right boob [the cancer one] is all good. The left one [non-cancerous lump removed as a precaution and tested again as non cancerous] still shows something that's consistent with a previous biopsy on a cyst. There's no change and no concerns. I'm to be recalled in a year for a further MRI.
So yeah!!!!!
I then floated down the stairs to the ground floor for my 5th treatment. Already a bit fed up with the daily routine of getting undressed, lying down, arms above my head in the arm rests and trying not to laugh while the technicians check I'm lined up. That involves the two of them calling out numbers to each other while prodding my body to "feel for the bones" then pushing a shoulder here and an armpit there. Then they say stuff like "I'm happy this side, what's your side like?" and the other either answers "I'm good" or "I'm a bit supe here" (whatever that means) followed by more prodding until they are both happy. Then they leave, the alarms sound and I've got to lie absolutely still for what seems like forever but is really only a few minutes. Try that when the radio is playing "Moves like Jagger".
I always feel a bit freaked out when the machine moves from one side to the other and they zap me from another angle. The machine feels closer to my face and random thoughts start racing through my mind like "Jeez I hope they know what they're doing", or "I hope they know it's only the right boob" right thru to "I wonder if they've ever given someone too much of a zap, and what happens if they do?" I bet there's another alarm sound for that.
On the up side I am getting better at getting dressed quickly and the technicians haven't shocked me yet. Not with radiation but with static electricity, depending on what shoes they're wearing .... seriously I heard the snap today when one of them came back into the room.
The best thing about leaving the building is it has these double glass sliding doors when you go thru to the car park and so for a brief moment you're kind of in an airlock. I hum the "Get Smart" theme song every time I go through, in my head, not out loud.. not yet.
For those too young to have seen "Get Smart" , click here and prepare to be educated
I mentioned that I had my MRI last week but hadn't heard anything yet and I was guessing that "no news is good news". The specialist checked for me and said "It is good news" then she read out the report. Basically the right boob [the cancer one] is all good. The left one [non-cancerous lump removed as a precaution and tested again as non cancerous] still shows something that's consistent with a previous biopsy on a cyst. There's no change and no concerns. I'm to be recalled in a year for a further MRI.
So yeah!!!!!
I then floated down the stairs to the ground floor for my 5th treatment. Already a bit fed up with the daily routine of getting undressed, lying down, arms above my head in the arm rests and trying not to laugh while the technicians check I'm lined up. That involves the two of them calling out numbers to each other while prodding my body to "feel for the bones" then pushing a shoulder here and an armpit there. Then they say stuff like "I'm happy this side, what's your side like?" and the other either answers "I'm good" or "I'm a bit supe here" (whatever that means) followed by more prodding until they are both happy. Then they leave, the alarms sound and I've got to lie absolutely still for what seems like forever but is really only a few minutes. Try that when the radio is playing "Moves like Jagger".
I always feel a bit freaked out when the machine moves from one side to the other and they zap me from another angle. The machine feels closer to my face and random thoughts start racing through my mind like "Jeez I hope they know what they're doing", or "I hope they know it's only the right boob" right thru to "I wonder if they've ever given someone too much of a zap, and what happens if they do?" I bet there's another alarm sound for that.
On the up side I am getting better at getting dressed quickly and the technicians haven't shocked me yet. Not with radiation but with static electricity, depending on what shoes they're wearing .... seriously I heard the snap today when one of them came back into the room.
The best thing about leaving the building is it has these double glass sliding doors when you go thru to the car park and so for a brief moment you're kind of in an airlock. I hum the "Get Smart" theme song every time I go through, in my head, not out loud.. not yet.
For those too young to have seen "Get Smart" , click here and prepare to be educated
Thursday, 4 August 2016
I'm radioactive, radioactive...
Yep, I'm glowing in the dark.
This week I had my follow up MRI scan on Tuesday to double check "Lucretia" hasn't left behind any noxious friends. I won't get the results til next week at the earliest.
I guess because this was the 2nd time I'd been in the MRI torpedo there was no novelty factor and the headphones had no radio to listen to so the time really dragged. I tried to pass the time by thinking thru the options of a possible trip to Churchill in October 2017, but not even visualising frolicking polar bears could kill the last few minutes. If you are even mildly claustrophobic you will need drugs while you're having an MRI...seriously, a whole lot of them.
Today it was 1pm for Herceptin at the Cancer Centre then a short break and a very short drive round the corner to get my first radiation treatment. This will be the routine Monday-Friday for 3 weeks
It was pretty much get your kit off, get into position, have the technicians check you're lined up properly then they leave the room, take some images, fire the gun and then the machine moves round to the other side, another zap, the technician then says ok we're done and you're off the machine and getting dressed again. You don't feel anything and there's only a bit of a humming sound, you don't even see a beam of light or anything. The actual bit that gives you the radiation sort of looks like one of those hairdresser rotating heater things that you sit under when you've had your hair dyed.
I got home, read the leaflet again on skin care after your treatment and started to think "does my boob feel hot? is that my skin itching?" I've had to flash myself a few times in the mirror already to check everything's ok.
It's kind of like when people talk about their kids getting nits at school and your head feels itchy.
There's a fine line between being informed and pre-warned about what to expect and too much information. One of my friends who shall remain nameless (Patsy) wants to know if my pee will glow in the dark...not yet, I'll keep you posted
This week I had my follow up MRI scan on Tuesday to double check "Lucretia" hasn't left behind any noxious friends. I won't get the results til next week at the earliest.
I guess because this was the 2nd time I'd been in the MRI torpedo there was no novelty factor and the headphones had no radio to listen to so the time really dragged. I tried to pass the time by thinking thru the options of a possible trip to Churchill in October 2017, but not even visualising frolicking polar bears could kill the last few minutes. If you are even mildly claustrophobic you will need drugs while you're having an MRI...seriously, a whole lot of them.
Today it was 1pm for Herceptin at the Cancer Centre then a short break and a very short drive round the corner to get my first radiation treatment. This will be the routine Monday-Friday for 3 weeks
It was pretty much get your kit off, get into position, have the technicians check you're lined up properly then they leave the room, take some images, fire the gun and then the machine moves round to the other side, another zap, the technician then says ok we're done and you're off the machine and getting dressed again. You don't feel anything and there's only a bit of a humming sound, you don't even see a beam of light or anything. The actual bit that gives you the radiation sort of looks like one of those hairdresser rotating heater things that you sit under when you've had your hair dyed.
I got home, read the leaflet again on skin care after your treatment and started to think "does my boob feel hot? is that my skin itching?" I've had to flash myself a few times in the mirror already to check everything's ok.
It's kind of like when people talk about their kids getting nits at school and your head feels itchy.
There's a fine line between being informed and pre-warned about what to expect and too much information. One of my friends who shall remain nameless (Patsy) wants to know if my pee will glow in the dark...not yet, I'll keep you posted
 |
| Yep - life-like image of me! |
Sunday, 31 July 2016
Adele and me
I finally got my walk up Mauao on Saturday
I had a bit of a tough week, constantly tired and wondering how on earth I was going to cope with radiation tiredness on top of the post chemo hangover. As I was leaving work on Friday afternoon I suddenly realised I was feeling great. You could even say "full of beans". It made me realise exactly how tired I'd been feeling lately, worse than when I was actually having chemo.
I had a little dance off in my house to celebrate because I figured out that it was exactly 3 weeks after my last chemo session. Those clever doctors who tell you it will take just as many weeks as your treatment to recover were bang on!
So Saturday morning, still feeling great and with the threat of rain holding off I decided I would drive to the Mt and walk around it. By the time I got there, a bit of blue sky was peaking thru the clouds and I thought since I was feeling pretty good I may as well just go up. The many layers slowly came off, the steps got harder, the voice in my head repeating like a mantra "You..are... so...stupid...what...the...hell...were...you...thinking" I had 3 stops, all timed to be no longer than 15-30 seconds because any longer would have given me the chance to call it quits and go back down. Super happy when I made it to the top and although my time of 29 minutes and 36 seconds (including breaks) is slow it was quicker than the first time Kaye M and I started on our twice weekly efforts many years ago. Hurrah for me. 3 weeks post chemo and almost 5 months post surgery.
My dance off was to Adele's "Send my love", I could have videoed it and put it on here, but some things should not be shared, especially dance moves in your trackies with no hat on to cover your almost bald, dandelion fuzz head. I know I was amazing!
I had a bit of a tough week, constantly tired and wondering how on earth I was going to cope with radiation tiredness on top of the post chemo hangover. As I was leaving work on Friday afternoon I suddenly realised I was feeling great. You could even say "full of beans". It made me realise exactly how tired I'd been feeling lately, worse than when I was actually having chemo.
I had a little dance off in my house to celebrate because I figured out that it was exactly 3 weeks after my last chemo session. Those clever doctors who tell you it will take just as many weeks as your treatment to recover were bang on!
So Saturday morning, still feeling great and with the threat of rain holding off I decided I would drive to the Mt and walk around it. By the time I got there, a bit of blue sky was peaking thru the clouds and I thought since I was feeling pretty good I may as well just go up. The many layers slowly came off, the steps got harder, the voice in my head repeating like a mantra "You..are... so...stupid...what...the...hell...were...you...thinking" I had 3 stops, all timed to be no longer than 15-30 seconds because any longer would have given me the chance to call it quits and go back down. Super happy when I made it to the top and although my time of 29 minutes and 36 seconds (including breaks) is slow it was quicker than the first time Kaye M and I started on our twice weekly efforts many years ago. Hurrah for me. 3 weeks post chemo and almost 5 months post surgery.
My dance off was to Adele's "Send my love", I could have videoed it and put it on here, but some things should not be shared, especially dance moves in your trackies with no hat on to cover your almost bald, dandelion fuzz head. I know I was amazing!
 |
| Top of the Mount |
Wednesday, 20 July 2016
Bizarro side effects
So I was looking forward to improvements and being able to leap buildings in a single bound exactly 7 days after my last chemo, because usually by Wednesdays I'm starting to feel perkier.
Not happening! It is now exactly 13 days since I had my last chemo and not only am I not leaping buildings in a single bound but I am still feeling tired, have had no "I'm feeling quite perky now" days and to top it all off I now have weird bruising under my left big toe nail, my right big toe is starting to do the same thing and my right middle toe nail has just shown a bruise underneath as well
When the first one started to appear I thought maybe I'd dropped a bit of firewood on my foot a few days ago and forgot about it, then when my right big toe started hurting too I thought ok, I would have remembered dropping something on both big toes -maybe this is chemo related. So I googled it and looked at the drug info and YES it is a thing, and blogs are full of people talking about their weird chemo toenails and sometimes the toe/finger nails drop off and sometimes they grow back weird and sometimes they STAY that way.
Now I'm sitting here thinking "ARE YOU BLOODY KIDDING ME!" I'm supposed to be full of the joys of no chemo treatment and having a break from any treatment until Radiation starts and instead I'm really hacked off.
I'm also thinking maybe they added some happy juice to my chemo and now I'm off it I'm back to my usual grumpy arse self
Yes there are photos of my toes and you know you want to look
Not happening! It is now exactly 13 days since I had my last chemo and not only am I not leaping buildings in a single bound but I am still feeling tired, have had no "I'm feeling quite perky now" days and to top it all off I now have weird bruising under my left big toe nail, my right big toe is starting to do the same thing and my right middle toe nail has just shown a bruise underneath as well
When the first one started to appear I thought maybe I'd dropped a bit of firewood on my foot a few days ago and forgot about it, then when my right big toe started hurting too I thought ok, I would have remembered dropping something on both big toes -maybe this is chemo related. So I googled it and looked at the drug info and YES it is a thing, and blogs are full of people talking about their weird chemo toenails and sometimes the toe/finger nails drop off and sometimes they grow back weird and sometimes they STAY that way.
Now I'm sitting here thinking "ARE YOU BLOODY KIDDING ME!" I'm supposed to be full of the joys of no chemo treatment and having a break from any treatment until Radiation starts and instead I'm really hacked off.
I'm also thinking maybe they added some happy juice to my chemo and now I'm off it I'm back to my usual grumpy arse self
Yes there are photos of my toes and you know you want to look
 |
| My bruised toenails This is for you John, payback for tagging me on the spider video! |
Thursday, 14 July 2016
2 whole weeks - no treatment! Whoop whoop
I had my radiation appointment on Tuesday. First to sign consent forms then the grand tour followed by photos and measurements and my 3 little dot tattoos. [I asked and you can't choose what you get] and the CT scan
It's impossible not to laugh when you are lying in a weird position, on your back, arms back above your head - propped up with the aid of an arm rest contraption, head in a sponge cradle while someone is drawing round the outline of your boob droop with a marker pen and 2 others have their rulers out measuring all sorts of droopage and skin folds and distance between your armpit and the edge of the machine. Then to top it off they tape wires to your boobs where you've been marked so it will show up on the CT scan and you're expected to lie still.
The staff as always explain everything before hand and so I gave them warning that I was very likely to start laughing at some point and was told "That's ok, we don't mind laughter, you just can't move when you go into the scanner."
The point at which I started laughing was when I thought to myself I feel like a chicken on a roast spit doing a synchronised swimmer impression.
Imagine lying there with marker pen all over you, bits of wire taped to your boobs, rulers being held up against you, having to look up at the ceiling, [no picture on the ceiling by the way] trying not to move and the conversation between the medical staff going something like this "13cm from the chin", "10 on the side" "I've got 5 - what's on your side", "Be sure to get the scars"
I also got told that not only can I not put any weight on, I can't lose any either. I've got to stay exactly the same as I was on Tuesday until the radiation treatment is done. They will now be doing all the calculations based on what they've done that day and they can't have it all thrown out by weight gain/loss
The tattoos are just 3 tiny black dots like freckles, one in the middle of my chest, in the "gap" and one on each boob in line with that. That involves a bit of ink put on top of the marks drawn by the marker pen and then a needle pushed in thru it, very quick. I was told it would be a bit like a bee sting but it wasn't that bad, more like a bit of a pinch.
I am still feeling tired a week after chemo has ended so a bit peeved that I'm not feeling perkier by now. On the other hand feeling great that since I had my herceptin treatment today I now get a whole 2 weeks of no treatment at all before radiation starts on 4th August
So lovely to be able to cross that off the list and we had a family dinner out on Wednesday to celebrate
It's impossible not to laugh when you are lying in a weird position, on your back, arms back above your head - propped up with the aid of an arm rest contraption, head in a sponge cradle while someone is drawing round the outline of your boob droop with a marker pen and 2 others have their rulers out measuring all sorts of droopage and skin folds and distance between your armpit and the edge of the machine. Then to top it off they tape wires to your boobs where you've been marked so it will show up on the CT scan and you're expected to lie still.
The staff as always explain everything before hand and so I gave them warning that I was very likely to start laughing at some point and was told "That's ok, we don't mind laughter, you just can't move when you go into the scanner."
The point at which I started laughing was when I thought to myself I feel like a chicken on a roast spit doing a synchronised swimmer impression.
Imagine lying there with marker pen all over you, bits of wire taped to your boobs, rulers being held up against you, having to look up at the ceiling, [no picture on the ceiling by the way] trying not to move and the conversation between the medical staff going something like this "13cm from the chin", "10 on the side" "I've got 5 - what's on your side", "Be sure to get the scars"
I also got told that not only can I not put any weight on, I can't lose any either. I've got to stay exactly the same as I was on Tuesday until the radiation treatment is done. They will now be doing all the calculations based on what they've done that day and they can't have it all thrown out by weight gain/loss
The tattoos are just 3 tiny black dots like freckles, one in the middle of my chest, in the "gap" and one on each boob in line with that. That involves a bit of ink put on top of the marks drawn by the marker pen and then a needle pushed in thru it, very quick. I was told it would be a bit like a bee sting but it wasn't that bad, more like a bit of a pinch.
I am still feeling tired a week after chemo has ended so a bit peeved that I'm not feeling perkier by now. On the other hand feeling great that since I had my herceptin treatment today I now get a whole 2 weeks of no treatment at all before radiation starts on 4th August
So lovely to be able to cross that off the list and we had a family dinner out on Wednesday to celebrate
 |
| Synchronised swimming or chicken on a spit? |
 |
| My boob mapping, including boob droopage and tatts |
Thursday, 7 July 2016
Can't touch this!
After 12 weeks I am done with chemo...
mic drop!
No more weekly blood tests, no more chemo day pill taking regime. [4 drugs, 7 pills, some with food, some no food, 1 exactly 1 hour before chemo]
I got greeted by my chemo Nurse Jenny today with a giant balloon animal from Margo and Patsy delivered to the Cancer Centre. Little bit of vein hiding again but Jenny got one and plain sailing from there.
The MC Hammer song popped into my head as I was leaving and I did a little happy dance sitting in my car before I drove off.
I am back next week for Herceptin only, it is still thru a vein but it will only take about 40 minutes, and then that's just once every 3 weeks until April 2017
On Tuesday I have an appointment with the radiation specialist and to have a CT scan so they can start their calculations for zapping me. I'll still have 3-4 weeks break after today before I get started on the next phase.
I have high expectations that my energy will be back to normal within a week and I'm aiming to get back up the Mount next weekend. Then again I used to say "We'll be biking to the Mount and running up it in no time" so stop laughing now Kaye M!
Not sure how I'll go with being back to the normal routine, 3 day weekends have been great, even if I haven't been able to do much. But OMG excellent timing with Wimbledon on, I have had the best excuse ever for lazing on the couch and binge watching tennis recorded from the night before.
I am feeling great, hope I don't jinx myself but feeling incredibly lucky not a single vom in 12 weeks. I just have to put up with a bit of feeling tired the next few days which is nothing. Also tried some great shampoo and conditioner my sister Shirley got me from Aussie "FarmaVita - Kliss" and while the itch hasn't gone completely it is much better
I've had lots of messages and words of encouragement and dinners with the family this week and more gifts delivered by Mum and the TGA sisters today so feeling very spoilt.
 |
| Relaxing candles and frangipani room scent |
 |
| Last chemo! |
 |
| Molly not too sure about this strange animal |
Thursday, 30 June 2016
One to go!
Felt pretty good today although a bit weary when I went in to have my penultimate chemo.
All went smoothly except at the end my vein started to do a bit of a skin bubble up again once the needle was out. That just means you have to put a bit of pressure on it for longer - which I know and I did and it was fine.
I was perfectly ok until I drove off and found myself crying at the first set of traffic lights. Cried all the way home and sat in the car and cried and had a big old ugly snotty cry in the lounge then had to get a paper towel out to wipe the snot off my floor [missed the tissue] OMG! The poor cat didn't know what the hell was going on.
Had to get my brother to send me a joke, he did, the best most un-pc cancer joke ever. Can not possibly share it here but had me laughing out loud. Then I opened my care package from Margo and Patsy which arrived yesterday but I resisted temptation to open it until today [yeah for me!] chocolate's good when you're a teary mess.
I've pulled myself together now so don't freak out, back on track. Although there may be a repeat next week but tears of joy when I walk out that treatment room after my FINAL chemo. Cry me a river.
All went smoothly except at the end my vein started to do a bit of a skin bubble up again once the needle was out. That just means you have to put a bit of pressure on it for longer - which I know and I did and it was fine.
I was perfectly ok until I drove off and found myself crying at the first set of traffic lights. Cried all the way home and sat in the car and cried and had a big old ugly snotty cry in the lounge then had to get a paper towel out to wipe the snot off my floor [missed the tissue] OMG! The poor cat didn't know what the hell was going on.
Had to get my brother to send me a joke, he did, the best most un-pc cancer joke ever. Can not possibly share it here but had me laughing out loud. Then I opened my care package from Margo and Patsy which arrived yesterday but I resisted temptation to open it until today [yeah for me!] chocolate's good when you're a teary mess.
I've pulled myself together now so don't freak out, back on track. Although there may be a repeat next week but tears of joy when I walk out that treatment room after my FINAL chemo. Cry me a river.
Tuesday, 28 June 2016
Looking good feeling better
I've had the day off. Starting with an oncologist appointment at 0940 only they were running late so I got in there at 10 am, quick chat and check up [all good] and I was off out the door to my "Look good feel better" treat. Bit stressed as I hate being late, but luckily they start with a cuppa so my waltzing in 3 minutes late was ok.
It's a wonderful charity run by volunteers and I got to meet some amazing women, all different ages and types of cancer. Most wearing wigs and you couldn't tell at all. Maybe I need to try braving mine again? We got treated to a makeover, each taken care of by our own volunteer and you get a goodie bag to take away full of all sorts of skin care stuff, make up and magazines. It felt nice to be pampered and I had the rest of the day off so popped in to see Mum briefly and once I got home I took some time out reading magazines. Back to the real world tomorrow...
It's a wonderful charity run by volunteers and I got to meet some amazing women, all different ages and types of cancer. Most wearing wigs and you couldn't tell at all. Maybe I need to try braving mine again? We got treated to a makeover, each taken care of by our own volunteer and you get a goodie bag to take away full of all sorts of skin care stuff, make up and magazines. It felt nice to be pampered and I had the rest of the day off so popped in to see Mum briefly and once I got home I took some time out reading magazines. Back to the real world tomorrow...
 |
| The goodie bag, there's more in the make up bag |
 |
| Afterwards - with my Peru hat on. Not sure the lippy colour is really me! |
Friday, 24 June 2016
Number 10 down and 2 to go
Nothing to see here again, feeling incredibly lucky
This week has been rather emotional as a lovely lady who works in my side of the hospital campus died last week after her battle with bowel cancer, and I went to the work memorial for her. Then a couple of hours later I was hooked up for my latest chemo and herceptin duo.
I confused the staff by sitting in a different chair again, I've told them I want to try them all out and this time I had a chair with a view. The place was about half full when I arrived and then there was just 2 of us.
This time I got an air bubble in my 2nd bag and it involved my alarm going off repeatedly and the nurses taking turns to flick the line to disperse it, so the whole procedure took about 10 minutes longer, other than that no dramas.
The cancer centre team were having a training session the following day so the other patient and I were entertained with them moving furniture around us and setting up tables. I was able to give them my expert advice about making sure they didn't mix up the colours of the chairs and found I was not the only OCD person in the room.
I got home to find my care package at my door. This time it was aromatherapy energy pulse point oil, and some moisturising gel socks you pop on your feet for 20 mins to soak up some lovely oils. Felt great when I tried them and very pampered.
This week has been rather emotional as a lovely lady who works in my side of the hospital campus died last week after her battle with bowel cancer, and I went to the work memorial for her. Then a couple of hours later I was hooked up for my latest chemo and herceptin duo.
I confused the staff by sitting in a different chair again, I've told them I want to try them all out and this time I had a chair with a view. The place was about half full when I arrived and then there was just 2 of us.
This time I got an air bubble in my 2nd bag and it involved my alarm going off repeatedly and the nurses taking turns to flick the line to disperse it, so the whole procedure took about 10 minutes longer, other than that no dramas.
The cancer centre team were having a training session the following day so the other patient and I were entertained with them moving furniture around us and setting up tables. I was able to give them my expert advice about making sure they didn't mix up the colours of the chairs and found I was not the only OCD person in the room.
I got home to find my care package at my door. This time it was aromatherapy energy pulse point oil, and some moisturising gel socks you pop on your feet for 20 mins to soak up some lovely oils. Felt great when I tried them and very pampered.
 |
| My happy feet |
 |
| This post is in memory of Donna, rest easy now and purple reigns! |
Wednesday, 22 June 2016
Why I don't like the term "Journey"
I personally feel the word "Journey" is over used, you hear it all the time in reality TV shows [must stop watching!]
I intensely dislike it being used in relation to having cancer, because when I think of a journey it's in the context of a planned trip, something you want to do and you're looking forward to all the great adventures ahead.
Having cancer is like being told you're going to Bulgaria, and that's not a place that's held any attraction for you, in fact you don't want to go to Bulgaria but you don't have the choice. You're told you'll be in Bulgaria for over a year, it starts right now and you'll probably feel like crap for big chunks of that year, occasionally you'll get a break but only for a couple of weeks. You know your real life is going to be put on hold and this year is all going to be about bloody Bulgaria
Once you're there a while, you're kind of surprised that Bulgaria hasn't been too bad so far but all the time thinking, jeez I never wanted to be here in the first place and there's no way I'm coming back. Just get me thru this and I'm out of here.
By the way, I have been to the real Bulgaria a loooong time ago, that wasn't my choice either. My original tour got cancelled and I had to book with another company, although that trip did turn out to be one of the best things in my life.
Bulgaria doesn't hold happy memories due to the worst road side public toilet stop I've ever experienced, cockroaches in the food, cockroaches in the hotel rooms and drinking games with Bulgarian champagne and Malibu. Don't try hungover sightseeing in a city you never wanted to go to in the first place.
This is probably really unfair to Bulgaria, you've probably changed since 1992, perhaps I could be persuaded to visit you again, on an "all expenses paid, no cancer treatment involved, give me your best shot" terms only
And Andrea, just a reminder, leave Hotel fire hoses alone.
I intensely dislike it being used in relation to having cancer, because when I think of a journey it's in the context of a planned trip, something you want to do and you're looking forward to all the great adventures ahead.
Having cancer is like being told you're going to Bulgaria, and that's not a place that's held any attraction for you, in fact you don't want to go to Bulgaria but you don't have the choice. You're told you'll be in Bulgaria for over a year, it starts right now and you'll probably feel like crap for big chunks of that year, occasionally you'll get a break but only for a couple of weeks. You know your real life is going to be put on hold and this year is all going to be about bloody Bulgaria
Once you're there a while, you're kind of surprised that Bulgaria hasn't been too bad so far but all the time thinking, jeez I never wanted to be here in the first place and there's no way I'm coming back. Just get me thru this and I'm out of here.
By the way, I have been to the real Bulgaria a loooong time ago, that wasn't my choice either. My original tour got cancelled and I had to book with another company, although that trip did turn out to be one of the best things in my life.
Bulgaria doesn't hold happy memories due to the worst road side public toilet stop I've ever experienced, cockroaches in the food, cockroaches in the hotel rooms and drinking games with Bulgarian champagne and Malibu. Don't try hungover sightseeing in a city you never wanted to go to in the first place.
This is probably really unfair to Bulgaria, you've probably changed since 1992, perhaps I could be persuaded to visit you again, on an "all expenses paid, no cancer treatment involved, give me your best shot" terms only
And Andrea, just a reminder, leave Hotel fire hoses alone.
Sunday, 19 June 2016
Too much information?
I had intended this blog to be an honest, tell it like it is account of my experience, and it has been - except that I haven't really been up front about some of the more personal stuff. As I've only got 3 more chemo to go I figured I should tell it all.
I can hear my brother thinking "OMG what the hell is she going to say now", and this is very likely going to be over-sharing, so if you're reading this and thinking, "Yeah, rather not know all the gory details", here's your pre-warning, step away from the screen NOW.
This is some of the weird/funny/scary stuff that I'm experiencing
I can hear my brother thinking "OMG what the hell is she going to say now", and this is very likely going to be over-sharing, so if you're reading this and thinking, "Yeah, rather not know all the gory details", here's your pre-warning, step away from the screen NOW.
This is some of the weird/funny/scary stuff that I'm experiencing
- Chemo makes my head itch like crazy, constantly, 24 hours a day
- My hair hasn't fallen out in one big dramatic moment, it has been weeks and weeks and weeks of constant fall out, and it's messy even though I cut my hair really really short. Think drifts of bits of hair every time I touch my head. Now my head looks like it's covered in a fine layer of fluff, sort of like a dandelion.
- I thought that I would want to try a new hairstyle since the government pays for the wig, but when it comes to wearing Kirstin Wig I feel like a fake Kardashian wannabe. I'm happier wearing scarves and beanies - even though it looks like I've got cancer, because at least it feels like I'm still me
- There are moments when I laugh like a loon at inappropriate times because sometimes the medical tests are just plain funny... although that's possibly just me
- I have cried over stupid insignificant little things just because I'm tired and sometimes this stuff is hard to deal with. I completely lost it at work one day because I hadn't realised my blood test plaster had come off, and blood got on my sleeve - for some reason it really got to me that I couldn't get the blood stain out. Luckily I was able to hide in the loos until I pulled myself together
- I was looking at chemo as a weight loss plan, except that's not how it's turned out (... so far, don't want to jinx myself.)
Apparently chemo doesn't always mean you'll vomit all the time, sometimes you don't get any nasty side effects AND you put weight on! They don't tell you that in the leaflet, and yes I'm ungrateful and annoyed about the weight gain even though I know I shouldn't be - There's a set of scales as you go into the chemo treatment room, it's best not to use them.
- Just lately for a few days after chemo, I've had mild constipation AND the most horrendous wind ...at night, ...lying in bed. So bad I swear the duvet moves with the jet stream and the cat lifts off the end of the bed. Then she gets in a huff and jumps off the bed which sets me off laughing
- I don't sleep well on chemo night, probably a combo of the anti-nausea drug and wind. This week was really bad, at 4.30 am I gave up and tried reading
- Sometimes I can't spell a simple word like nausea (just had to google it) when I've always been pretty good at spelling, and that concerns me. I'm hoping it's just chemo brain
- I know I should be doing gentle exercise to help with fatigue, but my idea of gentle exercise is a 25 minute walk round my suburb and then when I come home I'm knackered and that gets me down, so then I think stuff it, may as well flag it and avoid the feeling of failure. Tisk, bad attitude... see what I mean?
- You can get your nephew to behave if you pull the "do it for your sick Aunty" card.
- Chemo lets you jump queues at labs! Sometimes even at supermarket check outs if people are kind and you wear your scarf and do some fake gagging sounds...not that I'd do that
- Not only does the hair on your head fall out but body hair slows down, haven't had to shave my pits for weeks!
- You get free stuff, I'm getting to go to a "Look good, feel better" workshop soon, yeah!
 |
| An unfortunate side effect |
Thursday, 16 June 2016
3/4 done, only 3 to go!
I'm really on the home stretch now, 9 down and 3 to go.
This past week has been a bit tough energy wise. Started getting more and more tired from Saturday afternoon on-wards and Monday morning when the alarm went off, I had my first "I just can't do this today" moment and didn't go into work.
Felt a bit of a wuss because it's not like I was actually sick or anything and I didn't spend all day in bed, I made it to the couch. Daytime TV really sucks by the way.
Felt way better the next day and I always seem to feel great Wednesday and Thursday... just in time for the next round
Today at work, I had a nice lunch out with Colleen and Marian, and a bit later when I went for treatment it was the best vein yet, hardly even felt the needle going in and no issues.
Bit off putting when I first arrived, I was parking myself in the same place as last week and could hear someone vomiting on the other side, poor person. Also saw a young man late teens hooked up, far too young, and over heard another patient talking about the merits of being Her2 positive as opposed to triple negative "because although it's more aggressive at least they can be treated with herceptin, before those people didn't have much chance. Triple negatives don't have a lot of treatment options"
Hmmm.... kind of sucks and yet doesn't suck being a Her2er, and luckily this Her2er is super lucky that it's caught early eh!
This past week has been a bit tough energy wise. Started getting more and more tired from Saturday afternoon on-wards and Monday morning when the alarm went off, I had my first "I just can't do this today" moment and didn't go into work.
Felt a bit of a wuss because it's not like I was actually sick or anything and I didn't spend all day in bed, I made it to the couch. Daytime TV really sucks by the way.
Felt way better the next day and I always seem to feel great Wednesday and Thursday... just in time for the next round
Today at work, I had a nice lunch out with Colleen and Marian, and a bit later when I went for treatment it was the best vein yet, hardly even felt the needle going in and no issues.
Bit off putting when I first arrived, I was parking myself in the same place as last week and could hear someone vomiting on the other side, poor person. Also saw a young man late teens hooked up, far too young, and over heard another patient talking about the merits of being Her2 positive as opposed to triple negative "because although it's more aggressive at least they can be treated with herceptin, before those people didn't have much chance. Triple negatives don't have a lot of treatment options"
Hmmm.... kind of sucks and yet doesn't suck being a Her2er, and luckily this Her2er is super lucky that it's caught early eh!
 |
| Todays scarf combo - HER2, do I look bothered? |