Chemo 1 - Day 2

Wednesday.

Finally managed to get to sleep about 10:30pm but woke up at 3:00am. I felt a little bit sick when I woke up and have still got the nasty smell in my nose. I wasn't sure if I should take my anti sickness meds as I didn't feel ghastly so I just tried to take my mind off things instead. I had a little look at twitter and Facebook and then read a book for a little while, and munched on some ginger nuts......THE BISCUITS!! *tuts* *rolls eyes*
The sicky feeling soon passed but I still felt wide awake. I finally managed to nod off again at about 5:45am.
I took my first steroid tablets at 7:00am this morning with my breakfast. By 8:30am my face was very red and hot but I had no temperature. This is good because if my temperature rises above 37.5 then I have to go straight to the hospital as it could be a sign of infection.
10:00am and I am starting to feel very anxious. I think this is the effect of the steroids as they can make you feel very hyper and wired. Practicing my relaxation techniques help this a little although the fear of a panic attack is playing at the back of my mind a bit.
12:00pm and my mum comes round to pay me a little visit. I take my second dose of steroids with my lunch and I think my mum being here helps to take my mind off of my anxiety. That and the jam doughnuts she bought for me.
At 2:00pm and its time for me to have my first white cell boosting injection. I can't face doing this myself so hubby does it for me. I act like a complete baby and keep pulling away every time that hubby approaches me with the needle but after about 5 minutes I get brave and the injection is given without any further problems. Luckily I only have to have one of these a day for seven days.

The rest of the day goes by without any real worries. I feel a little tired so spend the day in bed but I have no nausea or sickness which I'm very happy about. I still can't really stomach a full dinner though so hubby makes me a cheese and ham sandwich with some crisps and I continue to munch on my ginger biscuits.
I am asleep by 10:00pm

Chemo 1 - Day 1

Tuesday 29th January,2013

So after 3 failed attempts at starting chemo due to tooth infections and colds, I was finally given the go ahead today. YAY!!! ( Yes, that was sarcastic)
I arrived at the chemo unit at 9:00am and after seeing the doctor, I was introduced to my chemo nurse Teresa. She started by making sure I was comfortable and asking me how I was feeling.
Teresa then had a look at my veins and I think it's fair to say that she was not impressed. I have to admit though my veins are pretty rubbish. To try and open my veins up a bit and make them a bit more visible, Teresa placed a heat pad on my arm. After about 45 minutes she was confident that a vein was actually there, which was good news all round as cancer would have been the last of my worries otherwise.
By 10:00am the IV was all set up and I was given a saline drip to warm me up slowly. Good move.
About 10:30am and its time for my anti sickness medicine. This is a steroid by the name of dexamethasone and its in a bag and given to me via the drip. I can feel myself starting to feel a little bit jittery but I'm sure this is my anxiety starting to kick in. I adjust my chair so that I can put my feet up and I start putting into practice my relaxation techniques. Thankfully this works and I'm soon feeling fine again.
11:45am and its time for the chemo. As the chemo is three different drugs, I was only expecting there to be three syringes. I got that wrong. It was nine syringes.

OH MY GOD!!!

These were actually administered by Teresa so I had the pleasure of her company all through this stage.
We started with the red coloured drug first. This is Epirubicin and will be the reason why my wee will be pink for the next couple of days. This felt a little cold going in so Teresa placed the heat pad back onto my arm and this really helped.
The next drug in was Cyclophosphamide. This left a funny smell in my nose for a few minutes. A bit like strawberries but not quite. Once this was all in then the Fluorouracil was administered. There were no effects with this drug.
This whole process took roughly one hour and I was all done by about 12:45pm. Teresa talked me through each step and let me know which strange sensations might occur so that I didn't get any nasty surprises. She was absolutely fantastic and I did ask if I could bring her home with me
but sadly the NHS don't supply this service.
I forgot to mention that while all this was happening hubby went to the loo. He pulled the red cord thinking that it was the light switch. *tuts* *rolls eyes*. Three nurses immediately came running in and started banging on the door. I sat with my head in my hands but the nurses were very good about it. I think hubby was disappointed when they didn't try to resuscitate him though.

OH THE SHAME!!

Teresa then went off to get my goody bag of meds to take home with me. This consists of....

* 7 injections which I have to give myself once a day to boost my white blood cells. These can cause some bone pain but I start these tomorrow.

* 1 ondansetron tablet to take at 6pm for nausea and sickness.

* Metoclopramide to take when needed for nausea and sickness

* Dexamethasone tablets, which are steroids. Again these help with nausea and sickness and also to help my body cope a little bit better with the shock it has just received.

* Lorazepam to take if needed to help calm me down

Once all this was explained to me I was allowed to go home.

3:00pm I keep feeling hot and clammy but otherwise well. I keep waiting for something to happen.

5:30pm feeling pretty much the same. No nausea or sickness yet. Hoping that it stays this way but very much early days.

9:00pm sense of smell is not my friend right now. Had salad for tea and the smell of beet root is in my nose and its making me feel a little off. Already feel that I may never be able to eat beet root again.

Today has definitely not been as bad as I had feared. Hopefully this will continue into tomorrow.
Fingers crossed.

Dear Cancer

Dear Cancer,
I'm sorry but I'm breaking up with you. Things have never been right since a piece of you left me to hang out with your mates down at the lab. Since that day I've found out so much more about you, about who you really are, and quite frankly I don't like you anymore.
Yeah it started out ok, we hung out in hospitals but then you just became too controlling. You messed with my mind and at one point you were all I could think about and your obsession with my tit was quite frankly disturbing.
You started dictating how I should have my hair but I'm sorry, this is my body, I'll make the decisions. That is why I've already cut my hair short and in a few weeks I'm going to shave the whole lot off. My hair, my terms.
I've become scared of you and I've lost all respect for you. I know you and your best friend chemo will try and gang up on me over the next few months but I'm ready and prepared. I've also got a plan myself and soon chemo will be on my side.
I know you will find this hard to accept and I've no doubt that you will put up a fight to try and stay with me but I'm sorry, you won't win. Do your worst, pin me down. I challenge you. I have support and love on my side. You don't stand a chance.
If I am honest I will probably never stop thinking about you but I think we both know this just isnt healthy.
I hope I never have to see your miserable little face again. You make me sick.

Lorna

The Bone Scan

Wednesday 9th January, 2013

So today I had a bone scan. This is because since discovering my lump I have been getting shoulder pain in the affected side. As this is a symptom of secondary breast cancer in the bone, my oncologist is taking no chances.
The scan is divided into two halves. Firstly I had to arrive at Wycombe hospital for a NM Injection. NM stands for nuclear medicine. In other words, radioactive. This is a tracer which absorbs into my bones so that any traces of cancer will show up on the scan.
The scan is the second half of the process which will be done three hours after the injection.

I arrived at the hospital at 11:25am for my injection. I have rubbish veins and the nurse couldn't find one in the usual place so the injection had to be given to me in my wrist. It didn't hurt but I could feel the cold liquid going up my arm and for some reason this really freaked me out and I started to have a panic attack. I asked the nurse if there were any side effects to the jab and she said that there wasn't so I knew that it was my anxiety causing my problems.
As my scan wasn't for another three hours I was allowed to leave the hospital so I went to visit my mum. As soon as I arrived at my mums house I broke down and I could feel the panic rising. I felt shaky and I suddenly felt as if the injection was poisoning me, which of course it wasn't. I just felt so very frightened. Frightened that if this is how I feel after one poxy injection with no side effects, then how the hell was I going to feel after chemo. I honestly started believing that I can't do this. The fear was winning.
After about an hour I began to calm down and started to tell myself that if I was going to have an allergic reaction to the jab or if it was going to cause any side effects then something would have happened by now. My mum kept hugging me and reassuring me and telling me that it was only normal for me to feel so scared.

At 2:25pm I arrived back at Wycombe hospital ready for the scan. I had been told to drink plenty whilst I waited for the tracer to absorb into my bones, so in three hours I had gone through about 4 litres of evian water. I had done nothing but wee since and I also had to empty my bladder before beginning the scan as a full bladder could interfere with the results.
The nurse called me into the room and I was told to lay down on my back on top of the narrow table. A big tube was placed over my arms and I was told to keep them down by my sides. The nurse then positioned the scanner over my head with the square gamma camera placed inches from my face. I was asked to keep still and then the scanning process began.
I didn't feel any pain but with the camera positioned so close to my face I did feel a little bit claustrophobic. I was aware that the camera was slowly working its way down my entire body so I just tried to stay focused on one spot and I started to count. I had been told that the scan would take about half an hour so counting up to sixty five times took up five minutes. OBVIOUSLY.
This provided a good distraction for me. I had taken my own Duran Duran CD to be played but sadly the CD player wasn't working. Either that or the nurse just wasn't a fan of Simon and co but that's just WEIRD!
After about 25 minutes, or counting to 60 five times and then five times again, the camera was down by my ankles and I was bursting for a wee again. I kept telling myself that it wouldn't be long now, just my feet to go but my bladder was getting desperate to off load. I just hoped and prayed that I didn't sneeze or else I was going to be in all sorts of trouble.
The nurse came over and explained that everything was done, she just needed to take a few more shots of my painful shoulder. OH CHRIST, I needed a wee SO VERY MUCH!
The nurse went back over to her seat and then said "Only about five more minutes and then it will all be over" NO WAY, I was not going to be able to hold on for one minute longer. "I can't" I blurted out "I'm gonna wet myself" and with that I jumped up off the table and bolted for the loo. I literally just made it. The next 3-4 minutes in that toilet was a bit like a scene from Austin Powers. I piddled for England.
I sheepishly returned to the scanning room expecting to get a telling off but the nurse was happy with everything and I was allowed to go home.
The following week was a week of constant worry waiting for the results but 7 days later I got them.


ALL CLEAR


NO CANCER IN MY BONES


I AM NOT DYING



BEST. NEWS. EVER.

Meeting The Oncologist

Wednesday 19th December, 2012

Today I met with my oncologist, her name is Doctor Thinn Pwint. I had to travel to Stoke Mandeville hospital for this appointment and this is also where I will be having my chemotherapy.
We went through everything and discussed how I'd been feeling and if I had recovered well from surgery. Doctor Pwint then went on to explain to me a little bit more about the kind of tumour that I have. She explained to me that as there are no hormone receptors that helped my tumour to grow that chemotherapy and radiation are the only options for me at this moment as taking tamoxifen for the next five years won't be of any benefit to me.
Now although my tumour has been successfully removed, there is a chance that there are remaining cancer cells floating around in my blood stream. This is why I need to have chemotherapy to kill these cancer cells before they attach themselves to another part of my body and turn into a secondary cancer. Doctor Pwint then told me that she had worked out my survival rate based on my type and grade of tumour and would I be interested in knowing. I agreed. I won't share with you the exact statistics as my family will be reading this but having chemotherapy ups my chances of survival in the next five years by 15%. It's a no brainer then really.
It was explained to me that my chemo regime would be three doses of FEC 100 followed by three doses of Taxotere. Also known as FEC-T. Although I have already changed this to FUC-iT. Here is a link telling you all about my chemotherapy


http://www.macmillan.org.uk/Cancerinformation/Cancertreatment/Treatmenttypes/Chemotherapy/Combinationregimen/FEC-T.aspx


Now, because it's a high dose that I'm on and the regime kills all my white infection fighting cells too, I was told that for seven days after each chemo session I will have to inject my self in the stomach to boost my white cell growth. Here is a link explaining all about boosting injections.

http://www.macmillan.org.uk/Cancerinformation/Cancertreatment/Treatmenttypes/Supportivetherapies/HaematopoieticGrowthFactors.aspx

After I had signed all the consent forms agreeing for me to be pumped full of nasty stuff for the next four and a half months, Doctor Pwint asked if I had any more questions or concerns. I was happy with everything that I had been told but I mentioned that I had been having some shoulder pain on my affected side. Doctor Pwint had a feel of my shoulder and and checked to see if any of my glands were swollen and advised me that she thought it would be best if I had a bone scan just to make sure that the cancer hasn't spread to my bones. This is known as secondary cancer and it means the cancer then becomes treatable but not curable. Just another couple of weeks to worry about something else then. GULP!

My chemo was originally booked to begin on the 15th January, 2013 but due to a tooth infection and then a cold it was delayed....twice. My new chemo start date is now Monday 28th January. I'm scared.

It's All About The Genes

Friday 14th December, 2012

Today I met the genetics doctor to discuss the chances of me carrying either the faulty BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes. For this I had to travel over to the Churchill hospital in Oxford.
Once there I was met by a really lovely lady by the name of Barbara Stayner who is the principle genetic counsellor.
First of all we chatted about my diagnosis and how that made me feel and we spent quite a while just going through some of my fears and anxieties. Barbara wanted to know all about me and my family and how the kids were coping with everything. She made me feel like a real person not just another patient to come walking through her door.
Once she had collected a brief personal history we then started piecing together a family tree and any family history of cancer. There were lots of questions to go through and I had to supply birth details of all my family. After this was completed Barbara then went on to explain that having a grade 3 tumour (the highest grade) that is triple negative might mean that it is more likely that my personal and family history have been caused by a problem with a faulty gene. These genes are genes that both men and women have and they normally work to protect against breast and ovarian cancer in women and prostate cancer in men. She went on to explain to me that BRCA gene testing is not perfect and there is a small chance that a gene alteration may be missed. It may also be possible that my cancer could be caused by a gene similar to BRCA that has not yet been discovered. For these reasons, even if a BRCA gene problem is not identified it is still advisable for me to have a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction as they can't rule out the possibility of another primary cancer returning.
We then went on to discuss ovarian cancer as quite often breast and ovarian cancer go hand in hand. Oncologists recommend risk reducing removal of the ovaries as part of cancer treatment for ladies who have had triple-negative tumours to reduce the hormone levels in the body.
I spent almost two hours with Barbara and she was even happy to have her picture taken for this blog.
Once done she filled out the form for my blood test and I went and had that done straight away. I now have about 6-8 weeks to wait for the results. I need it to come back with a definite negative to the BRCA genes or else it's more surgery for me.
Cancer. The gift that keeps on giving.

I Am Lucky

Ok. It was gonna happen at some point and here it is. The wanky bollocks bit.

Now I realise I've spent quite a lot of time moaning and waffling on about how pathetic I am and just how rubbish cancer is, but believe it or not there are actually some good points about it. For me anyway.

I will start with how I've come to realise just exactly what and who matters in my life. Cancer has made me look at my own mortality. It made me stop and think shit, life is short. Not that my life is going to be any shorter, I mean my doctors can't even answer that one....but you know, cancer IS a life threatening disease. Cancer has just made me stop and think.

I've spent most of my life feeling sorry for myself. I don't want to go into too much family detail but it's fair to say that I didn't have the conventional upbringing. In fact I was raised by my grandparents who I called mum and dad. I lost my mum at a young age and my dad in 2011. Although they would do anything for me and loved me, I always had that feeling of never truly belonging anywhere. That old cliche of the missing jigsaw piece I suppose. When my dad died my world fell apart. I felt alone. It was a horrible time and it lead to a nervous breakdown. I felt I had no place in the Ramsay family, I didn't belong anywhere. I just couldn't work out where I fitted in and in a weird way I was happy to be alone. I pushed everybody away. A defence mechanism, because if I pushed everybody away first then that way they couldn't hurt me. But then the cancer came and along with it came an outpouring of love. People who I had convinced myself wouldn't really be that bothered about what happened to me were crying. They were offering support and phoning to be kept updated with news on how I was. They were visiting me and bringing gifts and offering advice and calming me down on the phone when I was panicking. I suddenly realised just how much my family do love me. They won't admit that though as they are all hard bastards, obviously.

I realise now that I do belong. Not just within the Ramsay family, but within my own.

My kids and their dad, my gosh how I've taken them for granted. I've moaned about their behaviour, I've moaned about life being so shit without any money, I've moaned about life not being exciting enough and quite frankly last year I let them all down badly. I behaved in a way that I'm not exactly proud of but again the cancer has made me stop and think about just how lucky I am. I'm lucky to have them, because I wouldn't be able to go through this without them. Hubby  is, to use another cliche, my rock. He is listening to me moaning, he is wiping my tears when I'm crying. He is cooking for me when I'm having bad days and he keeps me calm when panic sets in. My kids make me laugh on a daily basis and have handled all of this so amazingly well. They make me feel so proud. They make me feel that this is where I truly belong. I love them all with all of my heart.

I'm lucky to be surrounded by so much love and support. Not just from my family but from friends too. Denise, Jo B, Annabel and Jackie have all stepped up to the mark and kept a smile on my chops. BEST FRIENDS FOREVER.

Also new friends that I have made even though I wish the circumstances could be so, so different. Mandy, Tracey, Gina, Sharon and Mel. Thank you for your support and long may we reign. XX

I can't not mention Twitter. Thousands of strangers who support me and wish me well and encourage me and ask me how I am doing. It amazes me. I thank you too.

Some people aren't so lucky and have to go through things like this alone. I can't even begin to imagine how frightening that must feel.....and that is another thing that I have to keep repeating to myself. There are always people far worse off than I am.

I am lucky x

Good News

 Friday 26th October, 2012

Yesterday I had to go back to the hospital. This was to see my consultant Mr Cunnick to talk through my surgery results and discuss the next stage of my treatment.

I arrived at the hospital in a bit of a state as I had spent the last few days worrying. Worrying that I might need more surgery or that the cancer was more advanced than they thought it might be. Just being back in hospital makes it all real again as well. Christ I'm 37 and I have cancer. I still can't believe it. It's so surreal and I just want out of this bubble. Walking from the car to the outpatients department was an ordeal in itself. My legs had turned to jelly, I was shaking and my mouth was bone dry. I was holding onto hubbys  arm for dear life and we had to stop three times as my head kept spinning and I was sure I was going to faint.

We arrived at reception and we were told to put my letter outside room 6 and take a seat. It was 45 minutes before I was called in to see Mr Cunnick and it was 45 minutes of feeling lightheaded and sweating and just wanting to run away and get back to the safety of my home.

Once called in by Hilary, my breast cancer nurse, we took a seat and Mr Cunnick asked how I was feeling. I explained that physically I felt good but emotionally I was a bit of a mess. That we were both a bit of a mess, as hubby  had been struggling too. We were once again reassured that this is perfectly normal to feel this way. Cancer is a massive shock to the system. It turns your world upside down.

Mr Cunnick then turned to my notes and began telling me what I was here for. This is what I was told...

1. No cancer was detected in my lymph nodes meaning the cancer hadn't  spread.

2. The tumour was 1cm smaller than they originally thought at only 2.5cm.

3. The surrounding breast tissue had a clear margin of cancer cells by  7mm. They like it to be at least 3mm. This means no more surgery for me as they have all the cancer and surrounding cells.

4. The tumour had been tested twice for hormone receptors. Twice it came back negative. This is classed as a triple negative tumour. This is an aggressive tumour that is only found in around 15% of breast cancer patients. It means that drugs like tamoxifen wont be of any use to me so chemo and radiotherapy are my only hope. Also most women with this type of tumour usually carry the faulty BRCA1 gene.

5. I will need chemo but I can wait until after Christmas before I start it. It won't be tablet form as first thought. It will be through a drip. BOO!

6. Chemo will be 6 treatments at 3 weekly intervals.

7. When chemo is done I will need radiotherapy everyday for 4 weeks.

8. I will need yearly mammograms until I'm 50 and then I will just go to NHS standard screening all being well.

9. I will be genetically tested as there is family history and also my tumour being triple negative means I have a higher risk of carrying the faulty BRCA1 gene.

10. I'm healing well

 

So although I'm not out of the woods yet and cancer still has plenty of chances to start kicking my arse right back with the chemo I'M PRETTY DAMN HAPPY WITH THAT.

 

I left the hospital as if there was nothing wrong with me. No dizziness, no wobbly legs, no shaking! CURSE YOU ANXIETY!!

 

So here's to the rest of the year. MERRY CHRISTMAS....mine will be. ;)

 

 

 

Coffee Mornings, Pink Bows, Pornhub and Facebook

I'm going to have a moan. A great big over sensitive kind of a moan.
It begins with a picture that was brought to my attention from an adult site called Pornhub. Great, you may think, Pornhub are raising money and awareness to breast cancer research. I am all for that, I really am

Another thing that used to raise awareness for breast cancer was a thing called boobie Wednesday on Twitter. The lovely ladies on there would show splendid pictures of their glorious boobs all trussed up in their finest frilly bras using the hash tag #BoobieWednesday. Again, great, especially if it meant one person feeling for and finding a lump and having their life saved. However.....and this is the bit where you will probably tut and roll your eyes at me....it just doesn't sit comfortably with me. Whilst Mel B is having her surgically enhanced bosoms lovingly cupped by her husband in the name of awareness, I don't want my hubby anywhere near mine. Ok, so I am fresh out of surgery and I am all misshapen and swollen and bruised and I know that this will all get better in time. I will however be left with an odd pair, so to speak, as one now has a huge chunk missing from it. I'm also aware that, for now, I'm lucky that I still have my boob. Although a double mastectomy hasn't been ruled out yet as I am still awaiting the results of my BRCA gene test. The horrifying reality is that women do lose their breasts though.

It's psychological with me. From the moment that I discovered my lump my boobs stopped being sexy. They stopped being fun and womanly and feminine. They became poisonous and life threatening. From being breasts that once fed all three of my children, giving them the best possible start in life, to help them grow and develop and to bond us in the most natural way, they are now hurting my children. They are making my children scared. They are making my children cry. They are cancerous.

I must point out that these are only MY feelings. Other breast cancer patients may not think this way. They may cope better than me and have a different outlook all together. Some women embrace their new bodies. We all handle these things differently. It's what makes us human.

Maybe it just boils down to jealousy. Maybe I just don't want to see big lovely bouncing boobs when mine are letting me down so badly. I don't want to see comments made by men telling you just how lovely and big and bouncy your boobs are.



I'm not saying that BoobieWednesday should stop or that Pornhub are wrong. That would be like me saying that I don't like the colour red so therefore we should all stop wearing poppies. I'm just saying that I am not a fan. You get that, right?



The other thing that grinds my gears is Facebook. I wasn't a fan of this before my diagnosis and now I know why? Please DO NOT send me the email about the colour game or the fruit game. It offends me. Deeply. Putting a one word status does not, in my opinion raise awareness for breast cancer. Nothing in that status tells people how often they should be checking for lumps or other signs of breast cancer because yes, cancer doesn't just show itself in lumps you know. Also it's a secret game just for ladies, well HELLO! MEN GET BREAST CANCER TOO! Not to mention the husbands, boyfriends, fathers, brothers and sons who have to deal with watching their loved ones go through hell.



Breast cancer isn't all coffee mornings and pink bows. It's shit. Unbelievably soul crushing shit. Sorry for moaning x

The Surgery

I arrived at the hospital at 7:30am. It had already been 12hours since I had something to eat but I was down for a morning surgery so hopefully I wouldn't have too long to wait. I was shown to my bed and hubby and I began to make ourselves at home. I was on a ward with 3 other ladies all there with breast cancer. I again was the youngest, with the other ladies being in their 50s-70s.

Within minutes of us being there nurses, doctors and anaesthetists began doing the rounds, taking blood pressures and going over the same questions again and again. By 8:30am the first lady was being taken down to theatre. Then the second lady was being taken down by 9:00am. This is good I thought, I'll be down and home before I know it. The second lady was back by10:30am and sat up in bed and eating. She looked pretty amazing considering she had just had surgery. This was all making me feel better.

Round about this time I was called by the nurse along with another lady from a different room to go down to the x-ray department. It was time for me to have my radioactive injection before my x-ray to detect my lymph nodes.

Whilst waiting outside the x-ray room the other lady began talking to me. I never found out her name but for the purpose of this blog I shall call her Lady Doom! She began telling me that this was the second time that she had breast cancer and that I have a long and miserable time ahead of me.She also began to tell me that this was her 4th time of having surgery and how awful it's been and well, you get the general idea. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not belittling what she has gone through and I was truly sympathetic of her ordeal but sometimes you just don't want to hear the bad stuff. I'm trying my best to remain positive and it really isn't easy and at this moment in time I just didn't need it. I just wanted this day to be over and as quickly as possible.

Lady Doom is obviously older than me and her type of cancer is probably different to mine so obviously her treatment has been different,but she had it in her head that I would be having exactly the same treatment as her. She asked if I was having the blue dye injected into me now and I explained that no, the blue dye would be injected into me once I was under the anaesthetic. I also explained that right now I was having a radioactive jab so that the lymph nodes could be detected before surgery and that my lymph nodes would be examined whilst I was asleep to detect if the cancer had spread and that if it had then more lymph nodes would be taken there and then. Well Lady Doom was having none of it! "No, no" she said "you're having the blue dye now and you will need to come back for more surgery if they detect more cancer because it takes a week for the results to come back" This then got me panicking because I didn't want the blue dye while I was awake. I was already over anxious about being injected with radioactive liquid. Oh god,I didn't listen to my consultant properly! Oh shit, I can't do this! I justcan't do it! My palms started sweating and hubby could sense my unease. Lady Doom was called in for her jab and x-ray and hubby began calming my fears."No" he said " you did listen to your consultant properly. She is having different treatment to you because her case is different to yours. Don't listen to her just concentrate on what you know" and of course he was right. The nurse called me in for my jab and she confirmed for me that this was the radioactive jab and not the blue dye that I would be having. I was now feeling calmer once more.

I say calmer but I have to admit I had been googling about radioactive jabs. Google told me that it would be 4 jabs in my nipple and that it would feel like burning acid going into me. Ladies were being held down by nurses and it was literally the worst thing EVER! So I laid down on the bed,pulling my own hair and waited. I was waiting for the most horrible pain I could imagine. I took a quick look at the needle and it was tiny. Probably only holding 2/3 teaspoons of liquid but you know RADIOACTIVE! The nurse found her spot just above my nipple and warned me that I might experience some stinging.I closed my eyes and grabbed her shirt. It started to sting a little and then the nurse took some cotton and began rubbing the area. THAT WAS IT! For fuck sake! I began laughing like a loon. The nurse asked if I was ok and I told her just how much of a state I had been getting myself into over this. I felt totally ridiculous. The moral of this story is dont bloody google. EVER!!!

Apart from a slightly warm feeling in my face I had no other effects. I kept waiting for them but no, nothing. Radioactive jabs are pretty boring and no I can't fly and I'm not the Incredible Hulk. Most disappointing to say the least.

Anyway after about 10 minutes I was called into the x-ray room where I was told to lay down on the bed with my arms above my head. A rather impressive machine which was a bit like a car wash but without the brushes was brought over to above my head. The square camera was moved down to inches above my face and I just had to lie there for five minutes while it did its thing. The camera was then positioned to the side of me and once again I kept still for five minutes and then it was repeated once more. Once the nurse had all the pictures she needed she grabbed her marker pen and began scribbling all over my armpit and black arrows were drawn all up my arm. I felt like an easel. Once completed I was sent back to the ward and told my surgery shouldn't be too long as Lady Doom was already in theatre.

By this time I was absolutely starving. I hadn't eaten since 7:00pm the previous night and my last drink was around 11:00pm. All the ladies from my room had been for their surgery and one had even been sent home. It was coming up for 1oclock in the afternoon and I was getting concerned that I had been forgotten. I gave huby a kick and asked him to find out what was happening.He went and found a nurse and came back and told me that they would be ready for me at 2pm....holy shit! I WANT FOOD!!

2pm soon came around though and I was taken down to theatre.Hubby  was allowed to walk me to the doors but we had to say our goodbyes there. We said our "I love yous" and I went through the double doors turning round to give hubby one last wave. I felt like I was on Stars In Their Eyes but without the smoke. Tonight Matthew I'm going to be Michael Jackson.Bring on the propofol!

I laid on my bed, got my iv put in and was sent into a lovely sleep. Next thing I knew I could hear my doctor saying it hasn't spread,no cancer in my lymph nodes. My first slurry words were "yay...Me 1 -Cancer 0" She laughed and said goodbye as I was wheeled back to the ward where hubby was waiting for me. I couldn't open my eyes at this point as I had been given too much morphine and the room was just spinning. It was awful and I was like this for a good couple of hours. It took me ages to come round properly and the nurses were quite concerned because I was breathing quite slowly. They warned me that I would have to stay in for the night and that they needed to make a decision by 8pm. It was now 6:30pm. I kept trying to open my eyes for longer periods and I positioned my bed so that I was sat more upright. This helped a lot. I drank some water and slowly ate some toast although I kept drifting off between mouthfuls. By about 7pm the dizziness had worn off and my mum arrived with my step dad. I wanted to go home so much but I was also afraid that if I went home too soon and I felt bad that I might have a panic attack. My mum told me not to think about that and she felt that being at home would be better for me so she got me up on my feet and took me to the toilet. I have never felt so weak in all my life. We finally made it to the loo and my mum came in with me. This was an experience in itself. I finally managed to wee and I looked at my tissue, you know, like you do....and it was bright blue. I laughed and showed my mum and she said "ooh quick stand up, let's have a look" So stand up I did. "Wow" said mum "That is the prettiest blue I have ever seen" and you know something, she was right. We had a giggle and then I hugged her and started to cry. I told her that I was sorry for crying and I said that I knew that I was a bit drunk right now but I told my mum, there in the loo, looking down at my blue wee that I loved her.She started to cry too and she said that she loved me too and that she was proud of me and that I was doing really well. That was all I needed.

I managed to walk back to my bed a bit steadier and the nurse said that she was happy for me to go home. I was given my painkillers and given a wheelchair to get me to the car. Once home my mum helped me up to bed and my kids all came up for a cuddle. It was good to be home.

 

Me 1 - Cancer 0

I DID IT!

Surgery done and all of those worries and fears were for nothing! BLOODY TYPICAL!

This is a very short blog as quite frankly I'm totally shit faced on morphine and I really should be sleeping but I shall leave you with a rather fetching picture of me in my hospital bed.

I know, I am quite the catch.

Oh and the cancer wasn't detected in my lymph nodes so it hasn't spread, so right now I am winning!
JUST LIKE CHARLIE SHEEN!

The Day Before Surgery....

It's Tuesday 9th October and tomorrow  it all becomes real. This bullshit is actually happening and it's happening to me. I had a god awful night last night. I just felt desperately sorry for myself and my husband but mostly my kids. I had a night of "why me?" and "why us?" and "why now?"

I had no answers apart from why shouldn't it be me? I'm no more special than any other person. I keep thinking to myself that maybe this is karma for some bad shit I've said or done in my past. I must have done something to deserve this. But why my kids? What have they ever done to be put through this crap? I hate the unfairness of it all. Cancer sucks and I'm not even at the hard bit yet!

The good part about tomorrow is that the cancer is coming out. The bad part is, well it's just all of it. The radioactive injection to begin with. This is to detect lymph nodes with the help of x-rays before surgery. I'm scared that its going to hurt or if I might have some sort of reaction to it. I'm also slightly concerned that it might turn me into a mutant ninja turtle!

Then there is the blue dye that will be injected into me during surgery. Again I'm worried about having an allergic reaction to it and also the fact that its going to leave me looking like a bloody smurf for a few days doesn't fill me with joy. I know, laugh it up!

As for the surgery itself, well this is causing the most unhelpful thoughts to enter my stupid brain! What will it feel like when they put me under? (I've had surgery, I already know but still. STUPID BRAIN) What if I panic as I start to feel sleepy? What if I don't wake up? What if I don't fall asleep properly? What if I'm awake on the table but can't say anything because I'm paralysed? (I'd like to thank the Daily Mail for that last one) WHAT IF? WHAT IF? WHAT IF?

So that's the state of me right now. It's good in a way because I shall wake up tomorrow afternoon and it won't be as bad as I've clearly been expecting. I just want it over and done with now.

LET'S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD!

Stupid Bloody Words....

I am counting down the days until I have my surgery. I keep forgetting that my birthday falls before that. I am starting to feel anxious now. I keep wondering what it will feel like to be put to sleep, which is daft as I've had three operations in the past. I'm also worrying about these stupid palpitations that I keep getting. Again that is daft as I've been suffering with palpitations for years now. They are a common symptom of stress and anxiety and I AM STRESSED!!

I must try and get rid of these unhelpful thoughts and concentrate on the positive. I am in the best possible hands of professionals who are trying to save my life and although being injected with radioactive liquid and blue dye and having surgery are not nice things to happen, when its all over the cancer will be gone! Out of my body. Stupid bloody cancer!

I have now been signed off work for 4 weeks as my panic attacks were getting on top of me. Once again my boss was very understanding but I still feel a bit pathetic and I hate letting everybody down. I just wish I could handle this all a little bit better. Stupid bloody panic attacks!

I went into work with hubby to hand in my sick note and while we were there we decided to buy me some new pyjamas and slippers for my hospital stay. We also thought it would be a good idea to buy the kids Halloween costumes now just in case I'm not up to it nearer the time. Part of my daughters outfit is a neon green wig. I couldn't resist trying it on, taking a pic and posting it on Facebook. It wasn't long before family and friends were texting me asking if that was actually my chemo wig. I did laugh. My mum is already horrified at the prospect of me getting a pink wig. She thinks that I would be making some sort of statement at a time when I should be trying to stay normal. I have to agree, I think she has a point. Maybe I'll just get pink tips or just go blonde. I've never been blonde. At least I'll disprove the fact the blondes have more fun. Stupid bloody chemo!

Knowing me I'll probably just go with headscarves and baseball caps. Rock it out gangsta style! FO SHIZZ!

 

Panic

Monday 1st October and I woke up this morning feeling absolutely vile. My head felt fuzzy, I felt dizzy and my stomach was just full of nerves. I've been having nightmares these last few nights which have not been helping matters either.

I was due in at work for 10:30 and would be working up until1:00pm when I would be leaving to go to hospital for my pre op assessment. I think the thought of just going back to the hospital was making it feel all so real again. The last few days at work had been helping to just take the edge off things but now I was back to working myself up into a right old frenzy. Stupid, I know!

I decided to stay with the situation and I got myself ready for work. Hubby  drove me to work and as we were travelling along the West Wycombe road I could feel my anxiety just rising and rising. Hubby could sense something was wrong and put his hand on my knee. At this point the tears started. As we drove around the back of my work it hit me. PANIC!!! I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I was looking ahead trying to focus on something and things started going into tunnel vision....oh Christ, I'm going to faint. I put my head down and tried to control my breathing but I just couldn't. Again things started to look like I was under water and the faint feeling washed over me once more. Hubby ran into the store to explain that I was in a state outside and that he would be taking me home. This left me alone in the car and I was petrified. I couldn't help thinking that I was going to die and hubby wouldn't be with me....I had to phone somebody so I called my auntie. She stayed on the phone with me until hubby arrived telling me that I wasn't going to die. She went through my breathing with me and just tried to calm me down. After about 15 minutes I managed to settle down a bit but it left me feeling so exhausted.

At lunchtime we made our way to Wycombe hospital for my preop assessment. I had to answer lots of questions on my health and any medications that I'm taking. My height was measured and I was weighed. I've lost 2 stone. I knew I had lost weight but I didn't realise it was that much. I also had swabs taken to test me for MRSA and then it was downstairs to have some blood tests. All tests were pretty straight forward and I couldn't quite believe why my body decided to get itself into such a state about things earlier.

Once we got home I slept. I needed it. Just functioning and doing day to day things have been so difficult these last few days. My concentration is shot to pieces and I keep forgetting what day it is. I've spent all day today convinced its Wednesday!

A few hours later I had a call from my mum asking how I had got on. She started to cry on the phone and said she wished that she could take this cancer away from me and have it instead. That was hard to hear. I hate seeing what this stupid cancer is doing to everybody, not just me. I suppose the good that has come from this is that I actually feel loved. I've always kind of known that I am but I have a very strange family set up so I've always felt that I don't really belong anywhere. This feeling has been worse since my dad died. Everybody is worried about me and everybody is in shock and nobody really knows what to say. What can they say?

I have tomorrow off so I am going to relax. My mum is coming up to see me in the morning and then I'm going to spend a few hours with hubby while the kids are at school.

Hopefully I will feel better then for going back to work on Wednesday. I hate letting the guys at work down and I feel guilty for having so much time off. This all adds to my anxiety. They are all being very understanding at work though and nothing they are doing or saying is making me feel that way. It's just my stupid brain.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

 

 

 

 

It's Aggressive. Grrrr!

Had a few days off from blogging just to get my head around things. I saw my consultant on Thursday and I was told that my cancer is a grade 3, invasive ductal cancer. This is the most common kind of cancer but also the fastest spreading and most aggressive. I was also told that my surgery will be on Wednesday the 10th of October. I will have a radioactive injection before surgery so that they can detect my lymph nodes with a Geiger counter. Google has informed me that the injection is known to be quite painful and will be injected into my nipple. I shall be using hubbys arm to bite on, he volunteered.

Once I'm put to sleep I will then be injected with a blue dye. Mr Cunnick has warned me that this will leave me with a blue tit for around a month. I've always loved birds, so that's fine. Also my face and skin will be left blue for a few days. ENTER YOUR OWN SMURF AND AVATAR JOKES HERE.................................

More amazingly than that I shall also have blue wee and pooh. I shall indeed be instagraming the shit out of that!!! You lucky people!

Once that's done the lump will be removed along with the surrounding breast tissue and then two lymph nodes will be taken out and looked at for any signs of cancer. If cancer is detected in those lymph nodes then Mr Cunnick will remove the rest of my lymph nodes there and then. I will then be sent home with a drain in my side which I will have to keep in for a week.

After surgery I shall be having a four month treatment of chemotherapy. This is the part that scares me the most. It's weird because with this illness I feel fine. I feel healthy, but I know that in just a few short weeks I'm not going to be. It's like knowing my future. I'm going to be ill and I can't stop it. I have no control!

It looks like my chemo will be taken in tablet form and sickness and nausea are side effects which are not as bad as they used to be. There are lots of anti sickness drugs available now. The main side effects I have been warned about are extreme fatigue and losing my hair. Weirdly, I don't care about my hair. I have already decided that I'm getting myself a couple of pink wigs. I've wanted pink hair since I was a kid. Well since the first time I saw Toyah Wilcox on my telly box.

After chemo I will then have radiotherapy every day for three weeks. I will have to travel to Oxford every day for that. What a bloody kerfuffle!! Oxford is about 30miles from where I live.

So that's my next 6 months or so mapped out for me. I'm exhausted just thinking about it!!

After Mr Cunnick finished explaining things to me I was then introduced to my very own breast cancer nurse. A lovely lady by the name of Hilary. She took me and hubby into a side room and slowly went through all the info again. She also gave me my breast cancer care pack and answered my two pages of questions that I had written down before hand. My last question was I am only 36. I have 3 beautiful children. Am I going to die? Without hesitation Hilary looked me straight in the eye and said "No! This is treatable" With that I shook her hand and thanked her and said "Right, lets do this then!"

Back To Work

 

I turned up at work this morning in a right state. As soon as I walked through the doors I knew that there were too many people and too many bright lights for me to deal with. I started shaking and my legs turned to jelly. I went upstairs to put my bag in my locker and started to feel dizzy. I knew that all of these sensations were down to anxiety so I tried to keep myself in the situation.

As I entered the shop floor and grabbed my apron from behind the counter, the girls came up to me straight away asking me how I was feeling. I replied with the usual blah blah and then they started to tell me how I would be fine, that their great auntie Doris had it and she's fine and that its so treatable now. I fucked off home!

I know that people mean well but don't fucking belittle my problem by telling me that  I'm going to be fine. Cancer is now my life and it is going to be for.......well, for the rest of my life.

 

ARRRGH FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT AND FUCK!!!!!!

To top it all off I've had a massive row with my eldest daughter. Today was meant to be a better day. It isn't!

This time last year I wanted to throw myself off of a bridge. I didn't do it. That was fucking stupid!

 

I didn't mean that. I'm not giving up I'm just exhausted and stressed and a little bit depressed.

At some stage this blog will start to get a bit more light hearted. Just not today.

 

Tomorrow will be a better day.

 

The Shock

 

I have been crying for most of the day. As soon as I opened my eyes this morning I was in bits. I am just filled with this overwhelming fear that has my stomach in knots. I'm not eating well. I'm not sleeping well. I'm just trapped in this body with cancer and I can't escape from it.

I am aware of how negative I am sounding and I am aware that I need to be positive but you know what, this is my cancer and this is how it is making me feel.

I have discovered a brilliant website called Breast Cancer Care and it is full of all kinds of information and advice on breast cancer and its effects both physically and emotionally. It gives advice for partners of sufferers and also how to handle kids questions and emotions. There are also forums to which I have added a post on just how scared I am feeling and within a couple of hours so many other women going through what I am going through and more have taken the time to reply and tell me their stories. All of them that have replied have told me that my emotions and feelings are completely normal and that we aren't brave or strong. We are just getting on with what we have to. What other choice do we have?

Family and friends don't know what to say so they tell me that I'm going to be fine. I have cancer for fucks sake!! I am already not fine!!

Death has been on my mind a lot today. I'm too young to die. Again I know I shouldn't be thinking this way but cancer is so bloody unpredictable. I keep being told of all the people that have survived and that is great but does that mean that I'm the statistic?

I'm also going back to work tomorrow. This fills me with dread. I work for a supermarket on the deli counter and I'm so worried about not being able to control my emotions and making a fool of myself. Work have been great so far in giving me a few days off to adjust to my news and also my rotas have been changed so that I don't have to open or close the department. From now on I am just doing mid shifts so that if I can't attend work it won't affect other staff or the business. This takes one worry off my mind at least.

As its a big day tomorrow I am going to bed and hopefully being at work again will give me some sense of normality for a while.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

 

It's Cancer

Thursday 20th September 2012. Hubby and I arrived at Wycombe General Hospitals breast screening clinic early. The appointment was for 2:30pm but after pacing around the house for most of the morning we could stand it no longer. "Let's go out for some lunch" I said.  So off we went to TGI Fridays. We both ordered a cheeseburger, which was the size of a house! I immediately knew that I wasnt going to be eating mine and it appeared that hubby  had also lost his appetite, so we asked for the bill. Our rather lovely, cheery waitress looked at us both as if we were a bit mental and asked us if there was a problem with the meal. We just replied that we weren't hungry! BIT WEIRD!

After we had paid our bill, the rather lovely, cheery waitress handed me the receipt with the rather lovely, cheery message written on the bottom. HAVE A FAB DAY! I have decided to keep that receipt forever!

We are now half hour early for my appointment but we head to reception anyway. The first thing I notice as I enter the room is that I am the youngest person there. I take my seat and hubby  and I spend the next hour making conversation about the paintings on the wall, reading leaflets and sometimes just staring at the floor. After what felt like an eternity, I am finally called in by the radiographer to have my mammogram. I am asked to remove my top and bra and my boob is carefully placed onto the machine. I am then pushed and pulled into the correct position and the machine comes down gently squashing my boob inside what can only be described as some kind of vice. I thought to myself that this isn't so bad when suddenly the machine gets my tit in the death grip!! JESUS CHRIST! I am like this for only a matter of seconds but my brain manages to think "Oh, what if there is a power cut RIGHT NOW" My brain is stupid.

This procedure is repeated on both breasts forward facing and then two more pictures are taken from a side view. I am asked to pop my clothes back on and wait outside.

Five minutes later another nurse named Jo calls my name. She explains that I now need to have an ultrasound scan. Again I remove my clothes and I am asked to lie down on the bed. Gel is squirted over my breasts and a doctor starts to scan over the lump, then around both breasts and under my armpits. He keeps stopping to take pictures. It's exactly the same machine they use when you're pregnant, so naturally I asked if it was a boy or a girl. I had an inkling that they may have heard that before. The doctor stopped what he was doing to inform me that there was indeed a lump there (I knew that) and that he would need to perform a core biopsy. RIGHT NOW!

I began to panic as I knew this involved injections and needles and I had told hubby to wait outside. I didn't want to be a baby but I realised that a panic attack could be on the cards here. I told Jo my predicament and she kindly offered me her hand. My breast was injected to numb the area first and then a small incision was made for the needle the doctor would be using to collect the samples.

I began to panic about being numbed and asked Jo if the numbness would stay in the one area or if it could spread. She told me I would just be numb in that area. "Are you sure" I asked "It's just I'm sure my face is going numb" Jo told me she was absolutely sure. Only my breast would go numb. "Oh" I replied "It's just I'm pretty positive that my arm and hands are going numb" Jo told me that anxiety does that. I was definitely not going numb anywhere else! (I was)

Anyway, the doctor took about six samples from my lump with what sounded like a giant stapler. Every sample taken made a really loud CLUNK!I jumped every time.

Once that was over and my little cut was dressed I was once again asked to put my clothes on but this time I had to head over to the outpatients department to see my consultant. I assumed this would be to explain to me what had just been done and that I should come back next week for the results.

As we left the breast screening clinic I broke down in tears. Hubby  hugged me and tried to calm me down. I looked him straight in the eye and said out loud "I've got cancer" Hubby told me off and tried explaining that we didn't know that yet, but I did. We walked the rest of the way in silence.

Once we reached the reception for the outpatients department I was instructed to leave my paperwork outside room 6 and sit in the waiting area. No sooner had we sat down, my name was called by a female doctor. We entered the room and she introduced herself as one of Mr Cunnicks team. Mr Cunnick is my consultant and surgeon. Her name was Fiona. Hubby and I took a seat at her desk and she started explaining what I had just been through at the breast screening clinic and then she said "I'm sorry, but you have cancer"

The room came in at me at 100mph and my stomach just hit the floor. I looked at hubby and he was just dumbstruck. My first words were FUCK!SHIT! FUCK!! I could feel the tears coming but I held them back just through the fear of never being able to stop them.

Fiona began taking my medical history and she also started to explain that things looked good so far. The cancer seemed to be contained in the one area and didn't appear to have spread to any lymph nodes. She explained that this was a hurdle race and that I should take this one jump at a time. It looks like my first jump is surgery to have the lump removed and this is what I must focus on for now. I have to go back on Thursday 27th September to find out when I will be having surgery and to discuss exactly what type of cancer we are dealing with. Fiona wanted me to meet Mr Cunnick so she left the room briefly to go and find him. I looked at hubby and could just see the fear and devastation all over his face. I laughed, I dont know why, and just kept repeating over andover again "I can't believe it. I can't fucking believe it"

Mr Cunnick entered the room and asked if he could just have a look at the lump. I pointed at hubby and said "yeah, he's sat right there" God I'm so HILARIOUS sometimes. Once again I removed my clothes and laid on the bed and as Mr C started examining my breast I said "I bet you feel a right tit" I actually crack myself up! He, on the other hand didn't laugh. Some people have no sense of humour.

Mr C lovingly let me know that my lump was 3 centimetres long but he would get it out of me. More positive blah blah was said and then Iwas sent on my way. Home, to tell my children that their mummy has cancer.

 

The Long Week

So, the thoughts are already beginning to swirl around my head. In a weeks time I'm going to have tests because they think that I have cancer. How am I going to cope with this? I don't cope very well with the common cold!

I don't want to go to work but I have to do something to keep my mind occupied. I work  in a supermarket on the deli counter. It works for a while but cancer is in my head now already. It's all I can think about.

I work with a great bunch of people, I really do but their moaning about schedules or hours or what the manager said to them, well quite frankly was beginning to get right on my fucking tits! I wanted to scream at them. I wanted to scream at customers who moaned that I had cut their ham too thick....REALLY? THAT IS ALL YOU HAVE TO FUCKING WORRY ABOUT IN YOUR LIFE? GET A FUCKING GRIP YOU STUPID FUCKING ARSEHOLES!!

I realise that this may have been a tad unfair as we all have problems and this wasn't their fault and god knows I love a good moan. I was a miserable bitch at work.

I told a few people and all of them told me not to worry. Their mum/sister/aunt/ had the same thing and it was just a cyst. Nothing to worry about. I started to kick myself for handling this so badly. After all I'm only waiting to attend a mammogram. But at the same time my brain was telling them to just fuck off. When you find a lump come back to me and tell me you're not worried. Christ this was a long week.

Doctor D

Doctor Dudley. My doctor, who lets be honest, tuts and rolls her eyes everytime I walk through the door. She's great though, a bit of a stern matron type, she'll take no nonsense. I had called her earlier in the day to let her know what I had found and I could kind of sense from her voice and her questioning that she thought it was me just being me again. I explained that my periods were fine, that the lump was actually inside my breast and that it wasn't moving around when I touched it and that it wasn't painful. Doctor D agreed to see me later that day.

As I walked into her room she told me to remove my top and bra and to lay down on the bed. Although I already knew what this lump was, a part of me was still expecting Doctor D to say "Well it's nothing to worry about, it's just a bit of fatty gristle. Go home and worry no more about it"

She didn't. She had a good feel of both breasts and both armpits and told me that she agreed that indeed something wasn't quite right. She told me that my lump was in fact about the size of a grape. THAT IS WORSE THAN THE SIZE OF A PEA. Holy shit, why can't I have a pea?

Doctor D then proceeded to tell me that she will get in contact with the breast clinic at Wycombe General hospital and that I should try not to worry as lots of things can cause lumps in the breast but it's best to get it investigated. She said that if I haven't heard from them by the end of the week to get back to her.

THE BREAST CLINIC RANG ME AT 9am THE VERY NEXT MORNING.

My mammogram was booked for next Thursday 20th September 2012.

And So It Begins.....

Thursday the 13th September 2012,  that's right THE 13th, you know unlucky for some and all that jazz.......anyway I'm already going off topic. I'm on my bed texting my husband  while he's at work. He asks if I'm feeling ok as I suffer with anxiety and panic attacks. The symptoms of both of these disorders had left me agoraphobic for the best part of a year but after 8 months of cognitive behavioural therapy I was beginning to come out of the other side.

I told hubby I was feeling good and that I was just going to bed. We said goodnight and I put my phone down and just casually rested my hands on my chest....AND THERE IT WAS!

I felt it again, and a bit more. I gave it a bit of a poke and I stared at it for a while in the mirror. There was no mistaking, it was really there. A lump. Sitting proudly inside my right breast, like it belonged there or something. It's a strange sensation finding something like that invading your body. Not only was my first thought cancer, I just knew it was. Right down in my guts I knew, there and then that I had breast cancer.

I sent a text to my husband telling him to scratch that last bit of our conversation and I told him about my discovery. Now hubby  has put up with my hypochondria for many years now, so his first response was DON'T GOOGLE ANYTHING ! He promised me a good feel as soon as he got home from work.

I stayed awake for him to return home and he said "Right let's have a look at this then" I pulled up my top and as his hand reached my breast he felt it straight away. He then felt my left boob, just for good measure I think, and then said "No work for you tomorrow. We're gonna get you straight up the doctors"

SHIT, HE NEVER SAYS THAT! He always tells me how that rash is just a sweat rash, or that my swollen thumb isn't actually swollen as its exactly the same size as my other thumb. He's always telling me that "No love, you don't have a temperature, it's just hot in here" or "No dear, you don't have meningitis, you've just got a headache. Drink some water"

I knew for certain now that this just wasn't my mind playing tricks on me. I had a lump, a lump I knew was serious and I had to do something about it!