It's that time of year again, October, no I'm not talking about Halloween, or the beautiful russet colours of the leaves on the trees, or the fact I had to find a sweater out yesterday because the weather is turning chilly. No I'm talking about breast cancer awareness month!
I was diagnosed in 2005, I didn't find a lump myself, I was turning 50 in the July (yes that means I shall be 60 next year, eeeeeek!) I had an appointment come through the post to go for my first routine mammogram. I knew you are sent an appointment for a mammogram when you are 50 but this was the beginning of February, my 50th birthday was not until mid July, how dare they send for me 5 months early?! I felt slightly offended, how could they send me for a mammogram at 49, I had ages to go until I turned 50, I hadn't noticed anything so did I need to go?
I put the letter in the bin!! Stupid, especially considering what happened, but I didn't want to go, felt a bit embarrassed, felt slightly miffed that at 49 I was being sent for a test meant for a 50 year old, I didn't want to be 50, I certainly didn't want any early reminders! I didn't need one anyway! How daft was I? Luckily my husband, Graham, fished the letter out of the bin when he realised it looked official and told me I was going, no arguments I was going. It was half an hour out of my life, I didn't even have to go to hospital, it was at a mobile unit in the next village, parked on the clinic car park. I hate hospitals so that did make it easier.
The mammogram didn't hurt, slightly uncomfortable and a bit squishy, but ok really!
Three days later a letter came to say there was a problem, I needed to go to the breast unit at hospital. I shook when I opened that letter. I cried. I rang Graham, I cried over him. He told me try not to worry, it might be nothing.
When we arrived on that Tuesday I was ushered straight through to have a scan and needle biopsy, I asked straight out do I have cancer? I was told yes, they did think it was cancer, you could see on the scan the tumour was calcified, a sign it was not right. My breast was numbed and a long thin needle inserted into the tumour, it didn't hurt surprisingly. Everyone was so kind, so caring. I had to then go out into the waiting room and tell Graham they thought I had cancer, it was very hard to do, he said maybe they are wrong, perhaps the lab results will be negative. I knew though.
We had to return next day for the results, yes it was cancer but they had caught it early, it was 1cm, I would have an operation to remove it, probably followed by 15 sessions of radiotherapy, that would be it. No I shouldn't need chemotherapy.
Telling my elderly mum and my grown up son and daughter was awful, I tried to keep positive but it's hard and I was scared. Mom couldn't speak, my daughter shook for hours, my son was quiet but trying to stay positive.
I had my operation a few weeks later, it took longer than expected, when I came round the surgeon said he removed a lot of tissue to ensure nothing was left, he also removed 13 lymph nodes to test.
Soon afterwards I went back for the results, the cancer was grade 2, it had spread to three lymph nodes making it stage 3, I needed chemotherapy, it was fast growing and aggressive. I needed aggressive chemotherapy to combat the disease. I had to fight. Devastated is the word for how I felt, how we all felt. I wasn't expecting to be told such news and I was very frightened.
Apparently I had shown signs of cancer had I but known it, Orange peel skin and dimpling, it never crossed my mind that was a sign. Now I know I urge people to check themselves carefully, go to seek help if you find something. It could save your life.
I was very scared about having chemotherapy, I knew it could make you feel so ill and I didn't know quite what to expect, would it be tablets to take, injections, a drip? Would I loose my hair? It was fear of the unexpected, as well as fear of the chemotherapy, how long would it take, how poorly would I feel? Could I go through with it? Having seen my father in law go through treatment for bowel cancer I had actually told Graham I wouldn't want to have chemotherapy, I had said in the past I would refuse it, so he was very worried when it came to it that I might say no I can't go through with it. When I was faced with the reality of my own situation I realised I had a lot to live for, a wonderful husband, two brilliant children, they might both have been in their twenties at the time but they were still my babies, my lovely mom, great family and friends who rallied round us to show their love and support, an invaluable thing in itself. I had to have chemotherapy, I had no choice. I owed it to myself and my loved ones.
The first few sessions involved a nurse putting an iv needle into the back of my hand and very slowly pushing the bright red epirubicin drugs into my body, she gently rested my arm on a pillow and sat in front of me, chatting all the way through to keep me distracted and relax me. It took over an hour, I sat on a comfortable recliner armchair, as did other patients having various kinds of chemotherapy and Graham was able to sit with me. I had to have it every three weeks, and I had four sessions. After the first session I was very sick, despite being given anti sickness medication, and eventually had to have the district nurse come in to inject my anti sickness as I couldn't keep it down, the emergency doctor came to see me at home after that first session and it was him who sent the district nurses in to me. After five days thank God it stopped and I began to feel a bit better. I felt spaced out but by the third week I felt better, though not relishing the idea of the second chemotherapy session. I had to have them every three weeks.
I saw my consultant before my next session and told her how sick I was, she doubled up the anti sickness and from then on I was sick on occasion but mostly felt sick for the first week at times then was not too bad for the rest of the time, a bit tired and spaced out but I rested when I needed to and everyone rallied round to help. My hair started to fall just before my second session, it got thinner and thinner, coming out in clumps, it would be all over my pillow, the furniture, everywhere. I had a shower on the Sunday before my second chemotherapy the next day and most of my hair disappeared. Thankfully I had already seen the wig lady at hospital and had her number. I rang, reluctantly as it was Sunday, and she was so nice, she had the wig I chose, come over to my home she said, I will shave off the rest of your hair and fit your wig. Once my hair had gone Graham told me I looked like my dad. That helped. Not!
Everyone said my wig looked good, but it felt uncomfortable and a bit itchy, I prefered wearing a bandana. The positive to having no hair was not having to style my hair, which I'm no good at, I just popped my wig on.
After the first four sessions of chemotherapy finished my radiotherapy began, you lie on a big table with a huge machine turning round you and laser beams directed at the spots to be zapped. I had 15 sessions, my skin burnt quite badly and became infected as the blisters that formed burst, so I had dressings on. Nobody warned me about that.
My next sessions of chemotherapy were different, I had it via a drip this time and it took over an hour. I had to take an antidote to stop the chemicals working after several hours which was a bit scary. I had one a week for two weeks, then two weeks off before the next session, eight lots in all. I felt a bit better than with the first type of chemotherapy though it could make you prone to bladder infection as it sat in the bladder, I only experienced that once, and wouldn't want to again.
Chemotherapy was due to finish in October, we decided to have a few days away in September as we needed the break. On our second day we had a phone call to say my lovely gentle kind mom had been found dead, she collapsed on the floor in her flat, our daughter found her very much loved granddaughter, it was too late. We were heartbroken. Mom was 84, she had been fine, it was unexpected and a terrible shock. The bottom dropped out of my world. Dad had passed away two years previously and I was still struggling with his loss. To loose mom was unbearable, she was my rock. I got it into my head she had gone in my place, then I thought I wouldn't make it, she would take me with her and had gone to look after me. Stupid, irrational thoughts but my life was turned upside down and I couldn't cope. Thank God for family and friends, thank you for all the positive vibes, the cards wishing me well, the flowers and chocolates, the love and support. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Xxx
My chemotherapy finished, I carried on because I knew it's what mom would want and I looked forward to the end of needles and hospitals.
It didn't work out that way. Just before Christmas I found out my tumour was HER2 positive, a lot of people with the same disease had been fighting to get the drug herceptin approved, it was expensive, many thousands of pounds, people had died waiting for NICE to approve it, the fight was all over tv, newspapers, radio. I prepared to join in.
I was lucky, my doctors put in a request for me to have herceptin, I was told it was a waiting game. I had a phone call just before it was announced on the news, from the primary care trust, to say I had been approved to have herceptin. Then it was announced on the news that herceptin had been approved for use on the NHS, for everyone.
And so began yet more treatment, thankfully unlike chemotherapy I had before herceptin didn't have too many side effects and I felt OK on it. I had to go every two weeks for a year and again it was administered by drip into an iv in my hand, it took an hour and a half each time as it had to be very slow, so I did a lot of reading! The first session made me go very very cold and I passed out, frightening my husband and the nurses, but I was fine after that first time, though did need to wear warm clothes as it could make you feel chilly.
My hair had started to return in the September while still having chemotherapy and by now I had a head full of curls, most unusual as my hair came back in tight curls, very soft and fluffy much as it had been as a baby! I even went abroad for my daughter's wedding in August of 2006 whilst having herceptin so you can see it wasn't so bad, I could never have managed it while having chemotherapy.
It's now 2014, I'm still under the hospital as the cancer was so aggressive, I was discharged from oncologist this year and have been told I should be discharged from the surgeon next year. I am cancer free and alive, despite my diagnosis, my family and friends helped me through my two years of treatment and I am eternally grateful for the love and support. It's almost ten years since I was diagnosed with an aggressive fast growing cancer and I'm still here to tell the tale. I have other health issues, hypermobility syndrome, arthritis, degenerative disc disease, but that's a whole other story. If I can do it, you can do it.
If you find a lump, if you notice strange changes, Orange peel skin, discharge, pain go and get checked.
If you are asked to attend for a mammogram, go!
If I had not had that mammogram it might have been too late, I might not be around to tell this story.
I am still here nearly 10 years later, so don't despair, stay positive, cancer can just get lost.
By the way I am now grandma to a beautiful four year old granddaughter, who I might never have met if I had ignored that letter. Now that's an incentive!
Love and good health to all. Xxx
No comments:
Post a Comment