Day 273: Gone but not forgotten - or maybe

When I was awake in the night on Tuesday (thanks to a hot flush that seemed to last nearly an hour), I realised that I need to get a compression sleeve for my upcoming long haul flight. How's that for a reminder of the steps taken to remove the cancer? I talked to Claire (Breastcare nurse) about it and she told me I need a proper fitting so she gave me contact details for the nurses who do it. When I rang on Wednesday, they had just had a cancellation, so I'm in to see Theresa next Tuesday to get fitted.  Man am I glad I remembered that.

As I'm contemplating getting my right breast removed as well as having an oopherectomy (removal of ovaries), I asked Claire how I would proceed. She said to come see her when I get back from holidays and she'll walk me through the pros and cons. I can then take my decision to Dr. Andrew, who is not keen on discussing prophylactic mastectomies unless the patient understands the risks. I'm not certain as to what I want so a discussion with Claire will be useful.

I rang today and made my one year mammogram and ultrasound appointment for 9th September, the exact anniversary of my diagnosis. I figured it would be a fitting way to spend part of the day. I also rang Dr. Andrew's office to book in my follow on discussion regarding my expander and the other surgical stuff. His receptionist told me that he is booked out until December and he didn't have time for new patients. She found me an appoitment when I told her that he had removed my breast and put the expander in (!). Unbelievable.

Remie told me tonight, out of the blue and in a light-hearted way, that she would "fall to bits" if I were to die (I can't at all remember what prompted it, but I don't think we were discussing anything related). I told her I wasn't planning on going anytime soon and I thought she was better suited to being whole. She lost a tooth today so was very excited. Happily I remembered so the contents of her tooth box have been swapped.

Alex and I watched a special report on in-home palliative care. The story was of a local woman who lost her battle with mulpile Myleoma and wanted to die at home. She seemed to be an amazing woman who surrounded herself with family and friends and chose how she wanted to go.  Beautiful.

Day 268: The black cloud of fear

I had a perfectly wonderful week returning to the dull and boring routine of normal life. I thoroughly enjoyed my regular exercise and running the kids around. I can get away with simply saying I chose to cut my hair. My memory is not particularly reliable and I'm tired, but I was like that before my diagnosis.

I have actually cherished my cuddles with the kids and time with Nick (don't worry, I did lose my patience with all 3 of them at some points). I appreciate the stories Remie tells and the detailed solution Alex has found to some problem. I know these things don't last forever.

Last night I got to thinking about my high school reunion and showing Alex around campus. It's only 5 years before he'll be old enough to apply if he so chooses. I realised that, by then, I will either be celebrating my 5 year cancer-free mark or not. The idea of dealing with the latter as Alex starts 9th grade sent me into tears. I now understand what cancer survivors mean about "the dark cloud".

I simply have to try to "suck the marrow" out of every day, as Lucy said. I figure it's far better (not to mention much more fun) to focus on that attempt than worry about the dark cloud, about which I can't really do anything.

Day 262: My energy is returning

Between swimming, yoga, gym sessions and even a 2km family fun run yesterday, I'm feeling really good about my increase in energy level. Having been plodding through for the past 5 or so months, it feels great to be able to get up and go. Wail I'm nowhere near what I could do a year ago, I'm ver much enjoying the trend.

I awoke at 3.30a this morning panicked that I'd forgotten to take my Tamoxifen. I quickly rectified that. I'd better be more diligent with this new habit. I was told by the Breast Care nurse who called today during the chaos of school pick up (I think her name was Ann) that the side effects of Tamoxifen can be strong. It's time to wait and see.

Day 259: Oncologist folllow up with Dr. Fran

I had an appointment today with Dr. Fran to discuss my next treatment steps. After 30 minutes in the waiting room, Dr.Ben (he was the one who had contacted me to come in for the double jab in the bottom when Remie had the chickenpox) called us (Nick was with me) in. He asked how I was and went through my main symptoms to see how my recovery was going. All good.

We then discussed Tamoxifen, the estrogen-blocking drug that I'll take for 5 years. Dr. Fran came in and we discussed my genetic testing explorations. I mentioned that I'm considering an oopherectomy and a possible prophylactic mastectomy  (elective mastectomy) of my right breast. She said that a trial on different estrogen-blocking drugs is due to finish on June 1st, which will shed some light on whether Tamoxifen will be best for me.

I left with a script for the Tamoxifen, which I'll start tomorrow. My next appoitment with her is in August. I also have a referral for a mammogram and ultrasound, to be done in early September. I need to book in to see Dr. Andrew, my surgeon, after the mammogram.  In the meantime I just get on with recovery.

I understand now why I was told that this is where people fall apart. I'm so used to having things to do that it feels weird to just get on with life. I did swim a kilometre this morning (very pleased with that), which is part of my version of getting on with it. I do find myself worrying that cancer might be how I go and it might happen too soon, but then I try to make sure I'm doing what I want with who I want. Now that I'm facing my mortality, I understand that life is too short not to enjoy.

Day 257: Comeback #4

After 2 c-sections and a hip replacement, this comeback thing has become a regular 2-3 year occurrence in the past 10 years of my life.  Given this, at least I know how to do it; I swear there's a business idea in it somewhere.

I was at the gym this morning for the second time this week (yoga yesterday). I know, at this point, it is about just showing up and getting back in the routine. Phil, who runs the hole-in-the-wall gym, is fabulous. I told him is was ready to work a bit harder and I need a program for my upcoming 6 week US trip, so he wrote it up and got me going. It is apparent that I've lost lots of strength, endurance and flexibility (what is up with that last one??), but at least that means that I can see progress every day.

I went back to eating a big salad for lunch for the first time in ages. Part of the comeback is getting back into a healthy eating pattern. I'm sure that won't be too hard once all the chocolate is gone...

Day 256: 7 days post-radio and 6 weeks post-chemo

As someone said to me earlier, this, too, has passed. I feel like I'm getting back into the swing of having a life again. My radiation burn is nearly gone thanks to the miraculous Flamazine, which I just finished tonight (I filled my script for a spare tube today). My hair is growing, though I wish my eyelashes would be quicker about it. I wore contacts again today. I can taste everyone I eat and drink. The body's ability to recover is amazing.

The unfortunate part of finishing my toxic cocktails and light show is that I now have the time to think about whether the treatment was able to eradicate and rogue cancer cells. Or what might happen if it didn't. And how I want to live my life knowing that the threat of recurrence is in the background. Do I want to have my other breast removed as "insurance"?  What about my ovaries?

I'll keep turning these issues over in my mind. Thankfully they do not require immediate attention. I'm sure Dr. Fran will shed some light on my next steps and beyond when I see her on Friday.

Day 254: Mothers Day clear out

For Mothers Day I had asked for time to clean my room, and I got it. I spent a few hours clearing out all the "cancer treatment stuff", from meds and scarves to books and piles of things that had just accumulated. I dusted my dresser,  cleaned my cupboard and threw away things I don't need. I am moving on.

This happened, of course, after the family celebrations. We were all piled on top of the bed at 6.45a. Nick and I had coffee and the kids had Mothers Day gifts. Most of what they presented was hand-made, which was lovely. I also received a tea-brewing pot for all my green tea, and they threw in some choc chip chai for good measure.

My other gifts were a wonderful brekkie made by Nick and topped off with some blueberry coffee cake made by Nick and Remie (Alex helped me clean), plus a very enjoyable family bike ride up North Head (I'd also asked to share some experience). The morning was sunny and beautiful.

We had Jenny, Owen and the kids around for a very casual lunch. I knew it had been awhile since we entertained, but I was horrified when Owen had that he'd never seen the countdown chain. We also had a half hour at Little Manly at sunset for a beer/kids snack and play as a reward to cleaning (the kids did their rooms as well).

The only thing that marred my beautiful day was watching a news segment on the Sydner Mothers Day Classic, a fundraiser for breast cancer research. The woman interviewed had lost her mother to breast cancer. When she'd been diagnosed, it was fairly late and two different types of cancer were discovered; she died before she was 50. I, too, had two different types of cancer, and it wasn't discovered early. So my mind is spinning now, and I'm trying to remember that there's no use in worrying about that which I cannot change.