Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Week 3!
Well it's been 3 weeks since I hopped on this crazy ass roller coaster ride.
So far I've had 2 surgeries (not including the fine needle aspiration x2 and core biopsy x2 under local anaesthetic), endless doctors appointments, good news - clear sentinel node and not so good news - involved margins resulting in second surgery.
And so we have arrived at week 3.
The results of my second surgery have come back with close margins. So DCIS was found close to the edge of the second excision. What this means for me in regards to further surgery I don't know as I don't see the surgeon until Friday.
My oncologist however wants to smash on with treatment as I am HER2 positive which means my tumour is more aggresive than one that is HER2 negative. Surgeon concurs and we can have further surgery afterwards if required. I'm quite happy for him to take it off completely.
Everyone keeps telling me it's better not to lose your breast but I really honestly and truly don't care. After 2 surgeries and still having the possibility of having more and DCIS left behind I would rather it gone and be done with it.
I'm all for reconstruction, was looking at a reduction anyway so what is the big deal?
I'm 39 years and 11 months old, I've had and breast fed 3 kids, have lost and put on weight so really they ain't much chop and I'll end up with a better pair!
It irks me when people tell me I need to preserve my breast. NO actually I don't. I need to preserve my life and my sanity.
Why do people assume that because some people react so strongly to losing their breast(s) that everyone is automatically like that? Same with losing your hair! I couldn't give a toss.
Take my boobs, Shave my head.
Whatever it takes.
I would eat dog shit if it meant a long and happy life with my family and loved ones.
So Monday morning the onc appointment looms large. I tell my husband if the margins are still involved and I have to go back to surgery I'm gonna go postal on their asses.
Riot at local hospital and I'm holding you hostage! I can see the headlines now. "A local oncology nurse has run riot through the local hospital after being told she would need to return for breast cancer surgery for a third time. The nurse smashed windows, set fire to rubbish bins and overturned tables and chairs in frightening attack. A volunteer in the local yogurt shop stated "she was out of control!" she is currently holding her husband hostage demanding an operating room and her surgeon to come and operate now. Hostage negotiators are currently trying to reason with her." :)
They narrowly missed this scenario with allowing treatment to start this week!
So we're all booked to start Wednesday and then this morning my oncologist phones me to tell me I'm booked in to have a port a Cath inserted in theatre tomorrow because they had a cancellation.
So chemo is now Thursday.
Third time lucky!!!
Mama Mia!
Anaesthetic Wednesday.
Here we go again!!!
So far I've had 2 surgeries (not including the fine needle aspiration x2 and core biopsy x2 under local anaesthetic), endless doctors appointments, good news - clear sentinel node and not so good news - involved margins resulting in second surgery.
And so we have arrived at week 3.
The results of my second surgery have come back with close margins. So DCIS was found close to the edge of the second excision. What this means for me in regards to further surgery I don't know as I don't see the surgeon until Friday.
My oncologist however wants to smash on with treatment as I am HER2 positive which means my tumour is more aggresive than one that is HER2 negative. Surgeon concurs and we can have further surgery afterwards if required. I'm quite happy for him to take it off completely.
Everyone keeps telling me it's better not to lose your breast but I really honestly and truly don't care. After 2 surgeries and still having the possibility of having more and DCIS left behind I would rather it gone and be done with it.
I'm all for reconstruction, was looking at a reduction anyway so what is the big deal?
I'm 39 years and 11 months old, I've had and breast fed 3 kids, have lost and put on weight so really they ain't much chop and I'll end up with a better pair!
It irks me when people tell me I need to preserve my breast. NO actually I don't. I need to preserve my life and my sanity.
Why do people assume that because some people react so strongly to losing their breast(s) that everyone is automatically like that? Same with losing your hair! I couldn't give a toss.
Take my boobs, Shave my head.
Whatever it takes.
I would eat dog shit if it meant a long and happy life with my family and loved ones.
So Monday morning the onc appointment looms large. I tell my husband if the margins are still involved and I have to go back to surgery I'm gonna go postal on their asses.
Riot at local hospital and I'm holding you hostage! I can see the headlines now. "A local oncology nurse has run riot through the local hospital after being told she would need to return for breast cancer surgery for a third time. The nurse smashed windows, set fire to rubbish bins and overturned tables and chairs in frightening attack. A volunteer in the local yogurt shop stated "she was out of control!" she is currently holding her husband hostage demanding an operating room and her surgeon to come and operate now. Hostage negotiators are currently trying to reason with her." :)
They narrowly missed this scenario with allowing treatment to start this week!
So we're all booked to start Wednesday and then this morning my oncologist phones me to tell me I'm booked in to have a port a Cath inserted in theatre tomorrow because they had a cancellation.
So chemo is now Thursday.
Third time lucky!!!
Mama Mia!
Anaesthetic Wednesday.
Here we go again!!!
Thursday, 24 May 2012
The simple things
I wake this morning full of thoughts of what I have to do today.
Thankfully none of them have anything to do with cancer.
I have to take some permission slips to the school for miss 13 and take a jacket back to David Jones for the man.
Blissfully normal.
I am actually full of love this morning. For everyone in my life that has wished me well and chosen to accompany me on this journey. (and no I havent had any Endone yet!)
Friends of my mum's and relatives of their's are saying prayers and lighting candles for me. It blows me away. I am ever grateful and thankful to have such support and love.
Its so cliched but so true how something like this makes you reassess the important things in life.
Material things mean nothing. Who cares where you live, what you wear, what kind of car you drive, what your latest handbag is. The universe doesnt. God doesnt. No amount of money can save you.
4 weeks ago I wanted to move into the city into a little funky terrace and have that inner city lifestyle.
Now I cant get far enough away.
I want clean air and open spaces not pollution and rat race.
I want to be an organic veg eating hippy not a city slicker choking on car exhaust fumes.
and
I dont want to work in cancer.
Cancer has been my 8 hours a day 5 days a week for the past 12 years. And I have enjoyed it. Ive enjoyed becoming an expert in cancer care, making people laugh and giving people comfort.
Now that cancer is my own personal friend I dont know if I can return to that world.
I dont want to eat, live, breathe, sleep, dream cancer.
I want to help people with cancer, but on my terms.
I want my 8 hours a day to be filled with beauty not disease.
I want to work in a little florist shop or a Peter Alexander store with pretty things and happy smiling people.
I want to be an advocate and a spokesperson and support person for cancer patients in my time.
Life is precious. Love it, live it, cherish it.
Thankfully none of them have anything to do with cancer.
I have to take some permission slips to the school for miss 13 and take a jacket back to David Jones for the man.
Blissfully normal.
I am actually full of love this morning. For everyone in my life that has wished me well and chosen to accompany me on this journey. (and no I havent had any Endone yet!)
Friends of my mum's and relatives of their's are saying prayers and lighting candles for me. It blows me away. I am ever grateful and thankful to have such support and love.
Its so cliched but so true how something like this makes you reassess the important things in life.
Material things mean nothing. Who cares where you live, what you wear, what kind of car you drive, what your latest handbag is. The universe doesnt. God doesnt. No amount of money can save you.
4 weeks ago I wanted to move into the city into a little funky terrace and have that inner city lifestyle.
Now I cant get far enough away.
I want clean air and open spaces not pollution and rat race.
I want to be an organic veg eating hippy not a city slicker choking on car exhaust fumes.
and
I dont want to work in cancer.
Cancer has been my 8 hours a day 5 days a week for the past 12 years. And I have enjoyed it. Ive enjoyed becoming an expert in cancer care, making people laugh and giving people comfort.
Now that cancer is my own personal friend I dont know if I can return to that world.
I dont want to eat, live, breathe, sleep, dream cancer.
I want to help people with cancer, but on my terms.
I want my 8 hours a day to be filled with beauty not disease.
I want to work in a little florist shop or a Peter Alexander store with pretty things and happy smiling people.
I want to be an advocate and a spokesperson and support person for cancer patients in my time.
Life is precious. Love it, live it, cherish it.
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
0122 hours
Post op.
cant sleep.
headache, sore boob.
waiting for endone and panadol to kick in.
Re-excision-tick!
Hormone receptors-tick!
we are ER/PR and HER 2 positive.
what does this mean? It means that my tumour has oestrogen and progesterone hormone receptors on it so that the hormones in my body make it grow and it also is sensitive to human epidermal growth factor (HER 2) which also makes it grow.
So to prevent relapse (either in the same breast) or in god forbid another area in addition to chemotherapy I will also receive Herceptin (to block the HER 2) and some kind of anti hormonal drug: tamoxifen or zoladex which will push me into menopause. yay?
To be honest I really wont miss my periods or ovulating as it is my monthly curse of ovulation pain, bloating, nausea and the occasional cyst and then pain, pain and pain of menstruation.
Are they symptoms of menopause worse? I don't know because Ive never experienced it!
At least I will have a quick cool down, just by whipping off the head gear!
Time to get a wee fan methinks!
So because of the Herceptin which lasts for 12 months, I will need to think about my veins which will probably not hold up under the pressure.
Time for some permanent venous access.
Ive decided to go for a port a cath which sits under the skin in your chest and is accessed by a needle when required. I dont really want a PICC line hanging out of my arm for 12 months (if it actually ever lasted that long) because number 1 you cant swim with it in, and I will be having Herceptin over summer, and number 2 I dont want it hanging out of my arm for 12 months.
So port it is.
Problem is its another surgical procedure.
I dont like surgery! But we will do what we must. Swallow our discomfort and push it away. Stock up on endone cos its gonna hurt! which by the way it appears I am not allergic to as I have been smashing it for the past few days!
Just waiting now for confirmation on the port insertion and starting chemo.
Freight train hasn't slowed just yet.
cant sleep.
headache, sore boob.
waiting for endone and panadol to kick in.
Re-excision-tick!
Hormone receptors-tick!
we are ER/PR and HER 2 positive.
what does this mean? It means that my tumour has oestrogen and progesterone hormone receptors on it so that the hormones in my body make it grow and it also is sensitive to human epidermal growth factor (HER 2) which also makes it grow.
So to prevent relapse (either in the same breast) or in god forbid another area in addition to chemotherapy I will also receive Herceptin (to block the HER 2) and some kind of anti hormonal drug: tamoxifen or zoladex which will push me into menopause. yay?
To be honest I really wont miss my periods or ovulating as it is my monthly curse of ovulation pain, bloating, nausea and the occasional cyst and then pain, pain and pain of menstruation.
Are they symptoms of menopause worse? I don't know because Ive never experienced it!
At least I will have a quick cool down, just by whipping off the head gear!
Time to get a wee fan methinks!
So because of the Herceptin which lasts for 12 months, I will need to think about my veins which will probably not hold up under the pressure.
Time for some permanent venous access.
Ive decided to go for a port a cath which sits under the skin in your chest and is accessed by a needle when required. I dont really want a PICC line hanging out of my arm for 12 months (if it actually ever lasted that long) because number 1 you cant swim with it in, and I will be having Herceptin over summer, and number 2 I dont want it hanging out of my arm for 12 months.
So port it is.
Problem is its another surgical procedure.
I dont like surgery! But we will do what we must. Swallow our discomfort and push it away. Stock up on endone cos its gonna hurt! which by the way it appears I am not allergic to as I have been smashing it for the past few days!
Just waiting now for confirmation on the port insertion and starting chemo.
Freight train hasn't slowed just yet.
there is beauty is in every day
sun streaming through your window
the light touch of breeze on your skin
rough bark on a tree
iridescent feathers on a bird
innocence of small children
helping hands given to those in need
art on a wall
music in your ears giving you goosebumps
love of another
selfless acts
ocean waves
storm clouds in formation
rain on your roof
washing away your cares
sun glistening on wet leaves
the smell after a rain storm
sun streaming through your window
the light touch of breeze on your skin
rough bark on a tree
iridescent feathers on a bird
innocence of small children
helping hands given to those in need
art on a wall
music in your ears giving you goosebumps
love of another
selfless acts
ocean waves
storm clouds in formation
rain on your roof
washing away your cares
sun glistening on wet leaves
the smell after a rain storm
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
Bit sore today
Wound under my arm is swollen bruised and sore and my breast feels as though needles are shooting through it but only when it sloshes around.
This unfortunately happens quite often as they are meaty Beaty big and bouncy!
Caught up with an old work mate/friend who I hadn't caught up with for ages. She had just had wisdom teeth surgery so we compared battle stories.
Prepping for surgery tomorrow (again) the official pathology report came back, lymph nodes are clear! Yay! But the margins are not. 1 margin is very close and one has DCIS in it.
*non medicos*
DCIS stands for ductal carcinoma in situ. It is basically cancer cells of the milk ducts but they are all still contained within in the duct. When they spill out of the duct into the breast tissue surrounding the duct this is called invasive ductal carcinoma. My tumor was a mixture of both but DCIS was found at the edge of the tissue taken. So essentially the tumour is gone, there are just a couple of seeds left behind which need to be removed.
So back we go!
I told him to feel free to take whatever he needed including the whole thing.
My life is far more important to me than a breast.
I can get a new, probably better looking one down the track!
And a matcher on the other side. I like the idea of having perky boobs for the first time in my life in my 40's!
While your there my friend, a quick tuck on the belly and some lipo on the thighs wouldn't go astray! Cheers!
This unfortunately happens quite often as they are meaty Beaty big and bouncy!
Caught up with an old work mate/friend who I hadn't caught up with for ages. She had just had wisdom teeth surgery so we compared battle stories.
Prepping for surgery tomorrow (again) the official pathology report came back, lymph nodes are clear! Yay! But the margins are not. 1 margin is very close and one has DCIS in it.
*non medicos*
DCIS stands for ductal carcinoma in situ. It is basically cancer cells of the milk ducts but they are all still contained within in the duct. When they spill out of the duct into the breast tissue surrounding the duct this is called invasive ductal carcinoma. My tumor was a mixture of both but DCIS was found at the edge of the tissue taken. So essentially the tumour is gone, there are just a couple of seeds left behind which need to be removed.
So back we go!
I told him to feel free to take whatever he needed including the whole thing.
My life is far more important to me than a breast.
I can get a new, probably better looking one down the track!
And a matcher on the other side. I like the idea of having perky boobs for the first time in my life in my 40's!
While your there my friend, a quick tuck on the belly and some lipo on the thighs wouldn't go astray! Cheers!
Monday, 21 May 2012
Wah Wah time over
Time to be thankful for what I have.
The glass is half fully friends.
I am still blessed and very very lucky.
There are those not as lucky as me and my heart, love and wishes goes out to them.
Sunday, 20 May 2012
Fuck You Cancer
Not happy.
Saw the oncologist today. Report from surgery isnt back yet, but being the proactive awesome person she is, she gave the pathologist a call and had a little chat.
On visual inspection nodes still clear BUT waiting for staining to come through so that may change. (fingers crossed we remain with the status quo thankyou very much!)
Tumour 30mm with involved margins.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
This means there are tumour cells at the edge of the sample that they took.
Explanation for non medical types.
When resecting something like this, the surgeon will aim to get a 0.5-1cm margin of clear tissue around the tumour in order to ensure they are getting it all.
The pathologist will then look at it under his microscope to see if there are any cancer cells in that margin.
Any scattered cells found too close to the edge in that margin could mean that there are cancer cells left behind.
The bottom line means more surgery.
NOT HAPPY!
So back to see Le Surgeon this arvo to discuss more surgery. Yay me.
Im not angry at him, he does his job based on what he can see and feel and what is on the scans. Its not uncommon to miss microscopic cells. Im just cranky that its happened this time.
But as I write this I realise that I have a lot to be thankful for.
I have an awesome team looking out for me.
I have the most amazing network of family and friends thinking good thoughts and offering to help me.
Thankyou Thankyou Thankyou.
pothole in the road.
we will navigate this.
its all good in the hood
Saw the oncologist today. Report from surgery isnt back yet, but being the proactive awesome person she is, she gave the pathologist a call and had a little chat.
On visual inspection nodes still clear BUT waiting for staining to come through so that may change. (fingers crossed we remain with the status quo thankyou very much!)
Tumour 30mm with involved margins.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
This means there are tumour cells at the edge of the sample that they took.
Explanation for non medical types.
When resecting something like this, the surgeon will aim to get a 0.5-1cm margin of clear tissue around the tumour in order to ensure they are getting it all.
The pathologist will then look at it under his microscope to see if there are any cancer cells in that margin.
Any scattered cells found too close to the edge in that margin could mean that there are cancer cells left behind.
The bottom line means more surgery.
NOT HAPPY!
So back to see Le Surgeon this arvo to discuss more surgery. Yay me.
Im not angry at him, he does his job based on what he can see and feel and what is on the scans. Its not uncommon to miss microscopic cells. Im just cranky that its happened this time.
But as I write this I realise that I have a lot to be thankful for.
I have an awesome team looking out for me.
I have the most amazing network of family and friends thinking good thoughts and offering to help me.
Thankyou Thankyou Thankyou.
pothole in the road.
we will navigate this.
its all good in the hood
Friday, 18 May 2012
Strange days indeed
It's 11 days since diagnosis and day 3 postop.
I'm still in an element of disbelief.
Despite the incision under my arm and the wound on my breast. Despite the blue stain and bruising. Despite my little pink arm pillow and the fact my mum is here.
I still am in shock!
I am cancer nurse
Not cancer patient!
Somewere someone fucked up. They put the wrong page in my file.
I want to call the karmic file keepers and sort this shit out once and for all.
I don't have their number. I don't know where they keep their files.
And if they took it out of my file would it have to go into someone else's? I would hate to think I gave this to someone else just because I didn't want it. Someone who maybe couldn't cope with it. Someone who didn't have the support I have. Or the access to the medical care and insider knowledge I have.
Still it seems surreal. Like a bad joke.
I give the chemo. I don't receive it!
I put the PICC lines in I don't consider getting one myself!
I comfort and support others. Not the other way round.
Nobody told me there'd be days like these.
Strange days indeed!
Thursday, 17 May 2012
Waiting. Again! sigh
2 days post op. Now I am waiting for final pathology.
Are the lymph nodes really clear? Do we have clear margins?
I imagine the pathologists doing their job. Looking at samples of flesh from faceless people.
I remember sitting in the lymphoma meetings looking at samples of lymph nodes on the big screen while the pathologist discussed the findings. Looking for cancer cells in a piece of flesh 5cm or so must be like looking for a needle in haystack!
My breast and underarm are sore and swollen. Thankfully panadol is holding it quite well at the moment. Im trying to stay off the Endone as I think I may be allergic after getting the itches with it yesterday.
Goddamn it! Endone rocks!
I woke up at 1:30 this morning a little anxious about my pathology.
Yesterday in the shower I noticed the mark that the radiologist put on my skin where one of my sentinel nodes was. The incision under my arm is about an inch away from this mark.
Questions flood my nervous brain.
Did he take the right one?
Is it negative because he took the wrong one?
Do I still have cancer cells inside me?
DID HE TAKE THE RIGHT ONE??????
The other thing that worries me is the blue stain on my breast. Its on top but the tumour was underneath. Why?
If the injection was not in the right spot could it have shown the wrong node?
Im sure there are very sensible answers for all of these questions, he is a very experienced breast surgeon. But I am such a nervous space cadet that I cant help but worry.
Maybe I should pop a lorazy.
I'm thinking I'm going to have myself a cracking prescription drug habit when this is all done! But thats all ok cos I am a rock star! all the best rock stars have habits!
Are the lymph nodes really clear? Do we have clear margins?
I imagine the pathologists doing their job. Looking at samples of flesh from faceless people.
I remember sitting in the lymphoma meetings looking at samples of lymph nodes on the big screen while the pathologist discussed the findings. Looking for cancer cells in a piece of flesh 5cm or so must be like looking for a needle in haystack!
My breast and underarm are sore and swollen. Thankfully panadol is holding it quite well at the moment. Im trying to stay off the Endone as I think I may be allergic after getting the itches with it yesterday.
Goddamn it! Endone rocks!
I woke up at 1:30 this morning a little anxious about my pathology.
Yesterday in the shower I noticed the mark that the radiologist put on my skin where one of my sentinel nodes was. The incision under my arm is about an inch away from this mark.
Questions flood my nervous brain.
Did he take the right one?
Is it negative because he took the wrong one?
Do I still have cancer cells inside me?
DID HE TAKE THE RIGHT ONE??????
The other thing that worries me is the blue stain on my breast. Its on top but the tumour was underneath. Why?
If the injection was not in the right spot could it have shown the wrong node?
Im sure there are very sensible answers for all of these questions, he is a very experienced breast surgeon. But I am such a nervous space cadet that I cant help but worry.
Maybe I should pop a lorazy.
I'm thinking I'm going to have myself a cracking prescription drug habit when this is all done! But thats all ok cos I am a rock star! all the best rock stars have habits!
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
The morning after
I waited until about 6pm for surgery. Long long day. But that's what I get for pushing for surgery this week!
They call for me and the give me my premed. IM injection in the leg! Bastards. It takes a while to work though, cos now the nerves really ramp up and my stomach is tied in knots. My family can't come with me now, we are really doing this, I have been on the verge of freaking out all day and now it exploded and I begin to cry. I kiss them goodbye.
The pre surgery area is bustling and busy. Filled with lots of machines that go bing.
There are pre op jitterers like me and post op moaners like the poor woman across from me. The premed starts to kick in and thankfully I close my eyes for a nap.
We move into theatre. It's freezing in here! I move onto the operating table.
The anesthetist comes and puts a cannula in. She can't cannulate for shit. I wonder if I should show her? Maybe not. The mofo hurts as it is!
They put the big black mask over my face and that's the last thing I remember.
I wake up in recovery and I remember the nurses telling me the lymph nodes were clear. The lymph nodes were clear! I believe I said something along the lines of FUCKING AWESOME!
I have a little pain so the give me a shot of fentanyl.
As I wake up more, I ask the nurse, "did you tell me my nodes were clear?" "yes" she says. "thank fuck I say" all potty mouthed this evening!
As I wake up further, they take me to my room for the night and I stop to see the surgeon. He tells me the same thing and I thank him profusely.
HOWEVER, we are not completely clear just yet, the pathologist may still find cancer cells in the nodes when they have a closer look. But for the moment I am stoked!
We go to my room and my beautiful family is waiting for me. The only thing that would complete this picture would be to have my younger 2 there as well. I wish they were, but I'll see them very soon.
Tuesday, 15 May 2012
Sweating bullets
Well were here in day surgery.
Waiting waiting.
I've seen the nurse, anesthetist and the breast care nurses (my lovely friends and ex colleagues)
This morning I had a lymphoscintogram where they inject a radioactive isotope into my breast around the cancer to map the lymph node(s) that drain that area.
The radiographer was a lovely very gentle young man, the radiologist appeared to be a bit of a prick! Couldn't even get a laugh out of him as he was injecting radioactive crap into my boob. Ass.
Clear nodes clear nodes clear nodes.
This is my mantra at the moment. I pray to god it works.
If I wake up with a drain under my arm I'm gonna smash someone!
Waiting waiting.
I've seen the nurse, anesthetist and the breast care nurses (my lovely friends and ex colleagues)
This morning I had a lymphoscintogram where they inject a radioactive isotope into my breast around the cancer to map the lymph node(s) that drain that area.
The radiographer was a lovely very gentle young man, the radiologist appeared to be a bit of a prick! Couldn't even get a laugh out of him as he was injecting radioactive crap into my boob. Ass.
Clear nodes clear nodes clear nodes.
This is my mantra at the moment. I pray to god it works.
If I wake up with a drain under my arm I'm gonna smash someone!
Wednesday
It's the morning of surgery and I'm awake at the crack of sparrow fart. Not even the lorazepam can keep me asleep this morning.
Oh well plenty of time for sleep later.
I'm nervous.
There's something about surgerynthat makes me nervous. I just can't fathom going instantly to sleep and waking up again in what seems like a nanosecond when you know that far more time has elapsed.
Please god let him get it all first go.
Please let my lymph nodes be clear.
Please let it be the best possible outcome under the circumstances.
I want to be home ASAP for my family.
I want to watch the kids play sport on Saturday and see them so proud because their grandma is watching for the first time.
I want to watch my baby umpire her first netball game.
I just want to be normal and do the things I would normally do.
I am absolutely humbled by the outpouring of love and support from all my friends and family.
I can't believe it. I am so lucky and blessed to have so many out there willing to pray, send thoughts, help me physically, practically I am amazed. I feel for those who don't havemthis support and can't imagine what it would be like to go through this on your own.
Isolated.
Doing it all yourself.
I want to help those in that situation and give some of the love and support that I have been so lucky to receive.
I hate waiting.
Patience is a virtue of which I have none!
Please god let him get it all first go.
Please let my lymph nodes be clear.
Please let it be the best possible outcome under the circumstances.
I want to be home ASAP for my family.
I want to watch the kids play sport on Saturday and see them so proud because their grandma is watching for the first time.
I want to watch my baby umpire her first netball game.
I just want to be normal and do the things I would normally do.
I am absolutely humbled by the outpouring of love and support from all my friends and family.
I can't believe it. I am so lucky and blessed to have so many out there willing to pray, send thoughts, help me physically, practically I am amazed. I feel for those who don't havemthis support and can't imagine what it would be like to go through this on your own.
Isolated.
Doing it all yourself.
I want to help those in that situation and give some of the love and support that I have been so lucky to receive.
I hate waiting.
Patience is a virtue of which I have none!
Friday
My breast care nurse has organized for me to see a medical oncologist and a breast surgeon.
I didn't want to go local for treatment, I don't know why, it just seemed too close to home and too weird to be treated by people I knew.
The surgeon I called who operated out of RPA never got back to me and I wanted action so the decision was made for me.
As for medical oncologist there was no one else I really wanted to go to other than Dr Boobs so we decided to go for treatment at the local satellite clinic rather than the crazy town of the place I used to work.
I will have to go to crazy town for radiotherapy if I need it but that is more palatable to me.
So we go to our little clinic to see the oncologist whom I have known for a while and who I used to work with. I have the utmost respect for this woman both as a clinician and a person.
A million years ago in another world we used to shoot the breeze about life and living with teenage girls, working in the boys club and just stuff in general. She gave my daughter a job at her private rooms and I made her daughter a hello kitty cake.
I go to the GP before hand to get some referrals and I am all business and matter of fact. In nurse mode.
Organizing.
My GP isn't there so I see one of the others who gives me my referrals and he is very sympathetic and lovely which is sweet.
On the way to the clinic, my efficient veneer starts to crack and the nervousness sets in.
It gets worse as we get closer and as I walk in I feel ill.
I have worked here before a long time ago as a nurse on the floor and more recently as a senior nurse popping in once or twice a fortnight.
The receptionist recognizes me and then the manager comes out to say hello and I break down into a big blubbery mess.
This is so wrong!
This isnt how it's supposed to be, I'm the nurse! Not the patient for fucks sake!
We have a chat and a hug and I see a couple of others that I used to work with.
It's so surreal it's bizarre.
One of the other medical oncologists who I have known for a while pops his head in to get a patient and sees me.
He gives me a smile and a wave.
Word has obviously gotten around.
My doctor comes in.
My doctor.
My oncologist.
My medical oncologist.
It still doesn't feel right! I keep thinking what the fuck?
She calls me in and gives me a hug. Immediately I feel at ease I know I have made the right decision. We do the usual.
History, medications, blah blah blah. She looks at my histopathology and does a physical exam.
She outlines chemotherapy. Phew! Gonna hit it and hit hard!
She wants to start as soon as possible after surgery and smash it.
It's gonna be tough, but I am determined to get through it.
The girls in the clinic do an assessment of my veins. They are a bit shit today thanks to nerves and lack of water. I may need a central line to get through this.
Meh no dramas.
Bring it.
I am willing to do whatever I have to to cure this shit.
Anything.
Chemo
Radiotherapy
Surgery
Starvation
Forgo shoes
No more chocolate
I will hang with Bear Gryls and eat frogs and drink snail pee.
Whatever it takes I don't care.
We go straight to the surgeon. He is very matter of fact. I don't know this man. Thats actually kind of nice. He doesn't mention my profession, does he know? He proposes to do a lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy. I tell him to feel free to take the whole breast, I'm not fussed. He won't though. He asks how Wednesday week is for me, I tell him I was kind of hoping for next week. He sighs and looks at his schedule. It'll be late he says, do I mind a late night? I'll be asleep! Haha I don't care!!! Just get the fucker out!
So we are booked.
Next Wednesday. Let's do it.
Next step is a chest xray, abdominal ultrasound and heart scan. Let's go!
I didn't want to go local for treatment, I don't know why, it just seemed too close to home and too weird to be treated by people I knew.
The surgeon I called who operated out of RPA never got back to me and I wanted action so the decision was made for me.
As for medical oncologist there was no one else I really wanted to go to other than Dr Boobs so we decided to go for treatment at the local satellite clinic rather than the crazy town of the place I used to work.
I will have to go to crazy town for radiotherapy if I need it but that is more palatable to me.
So we go to our little clinic to see the oncologist whom I have known for a while and who I used to work with. I have the utmost respect for this woman both as a clinician and a person.
A million years ago in another world we used to shoot the breeze about life and living with teenage girls, working in the boys club and just stuff in general. She gave my daughter a job at her private rooms and I made her daughter a hello kitty cake.
I go to the GP before hand to get some referrals and I am all business and matter of fact. In nurse mode.
Organizing.
My GP isn't there so I see one of the others who gives me my referrals and he is very sympathetic and lovely which is sweet.
On the way to the clinic, my efficient veneer starts to crack and the nervousness sets in.
It gets worse as we get closer and as I walk in I feel ill.
I have worked here before a long time ago as a nurse on the floor and more recently as a senior nurse popping in once or twice a fortnight.
The receptionist recognizes me and then the manager comes out to say hello and I break down into a big blubbery mess.
This is so wrong!
This isnt how it's supposed to be, I'm the nurse! Not the patient for fucks sake!
We have a chat and a hug and I see a couple of others that I used to work with.
It's so surreal it's bizarre.
One of the other medical oncologists who I have known for a while pops his head in to get a patient and sees me.
He gives me a smile and a wave.
Word has obviously gotten around.
My doctor comes in.
My doctor.
My oncologist.
My medical oncologist.
It still doesn't feel right! I keep thinking what the fuck?
She calls me in and gives me a hug. Immediately I feel at ease I know I have made the right decision. We do the usual.
History, medications, blah blah blah. She looks at my histopathology and does a physical exam.
She outlines chemotherapy. Phew! Gonna hit it and hit hard!
She wants to start as soon as possible after surgery and smash it.
It's gonna be tough, but I am determined to get through it.
The girls in the clinic do an assessment of my veins. They are a bit shit today thanks to nerves and lack of water. I may need a central line to get through this.
Meh no dramas.
Bring it.
I am willing to do whatever I have to to cure this shit.
Anything.
Chemo
Radiotherapy
Surgery
Starvation
Forgo shoes
No more chocolate
I will hang with Bear Gryls and eat frogs and drink snail pee.
Whatever it takes I don't care.
We go straight to the surgeon. He is very matter of fact. I don't know this man. Thats actually kind of nice. He doesn't mention my profession, does he know? He proposes to do a lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy. I tell him to feel free to take the whole breast, I'm not fussed. He won't though. He asks how Wednesday week is for me, I tell him I was kind of hoping for next week. He sighs and looks at his schedule. It'll be late he says, do I mind a late night? I'll be asleep! Haha I don't care!!! Just get the fucker out!
So we are booked.
Next Wednesday. Let's do it.
Next step is a chest xray, abdominal ultrasound and heart scan. Let's go!
Saturday, 12 May 2012
Thursday morning I wake up early. Mega early in fact its around 4:30 am.
I feel sick.
I feel like I want to vomit.
I am scared.
Shitless.
Where has my zen gone? I am no longer buddhist monk. I am frightened child.
The room is dark and the cupboard is open a crack.
The monster is looking at me.
waiting for me in darkshadows.
under the bed, in my thoughts, in my body.
my body has betrayed me.
How the fuck did this happen to me!
Me who is so paranoid and breast aware?
why did I not keep a closer eye on things?
How the fuck did I become so complacent?
Stupid stupid person.
I want to shout to the world
my risk is low
CHECK YOUR BREASTS!
check check check.
every month dont forget!
I want to go on TV, on posters, on billboards, on the radio. I want to speak at functions. I want to tell the world to be breast aware.
This happened to me one of the most paranoid people in the known universe.
and I missed it.
I feel sick.
I feel like I want to vomit.
I am scared.
Shitless.
Where has my zen gone? I am no longer buddhist monk. I am frightened child.
The room is dark and the cupboard is open a crack.
The monster is looking at me.
waiting for me in darkshadows.
under the bed, in my thoughts, in my body.
my body has betrayed me.
How the fuck did this happen to me!
Me who is so paranoid and breast aware?
why did I not keep a closer eye on things?
How the fuck did I become so complacent?
Stupid stupid person.
I want to shout to the world
my risk is low
CHECK YOUR BREASTS!
check check check.
every month dont forget!
I want to go on TV, on posters, on billboards, on the radio. I want to speak at functions. I want to tell the world to be breast aware.
This happened to me one of the most paranoid people in the known universe.
and I missed it.
I had all the protective factors: pre menopausal, young, commenced menstruation at 13, first child at 20, 3 pregnancies, breast fed 3 children. Not on the pill for very long. Good diet, lots of vegies, green tea blah blah blah blah.
In the end it didn't make a lick of difference.
no one is immune.
no one is more unlikely to get it than anyone else
Check your breasts
every month by yourself and annually by your GP.
I wish I had.
The girls stay home from school thursday and the man stays home from work.
I still cant eat so I go to the organic shop and grab myself a juice with a bit of ginger in it and some organic fruit and veg. Need to maximise the goodness atm. Screw this woollies shit thats probably been sitting in a freezer for 20 months, we want fresh, no chemicals, mega super crazy natural fruit and veg.
Time to fuel the bod with the good stuff.
Time to fight this mofo.
The man throws himself into the only thing he thinks he can do to help. His cars. His cars are his joy, his passion, his time out from the world. They are his stress relief. His other women. (bitches) The green one I dont mind, the black one I call the black bitch cos its like his mistress.
He decides he's going to sell them so we've got a bit of money in the bank in case we need it. My darling love is going to sell his pride and joys that he's rebuilt and worked on because I have cancer. I love him.
I want to go to the beach. My favourite place in the whole wide world. The sand, salty air, sound of the waves, sun on my skin makes me feel alive. I always feel like my soul has been cleansed after I immerse myself in the beach.
I want us to go as a family but the man wants to keep working on his car. I am disappointed but I understand that this is his way of coping. Of taking control of a situation that he has no control over. He is a man, this is what men do. They try and fix things, and this is the only thing he can fix.
He cant fix me.
I dont push it.
The girls and I have a beautiful afternoon walking barefoot on the sand. Dipping our toes in the chilly water. We wander through the mall and have lunch, looking in all the shops. I buy a book on breast cancer by Prof John Boyages called "taking control" a book recommended to me by the girls at the clinic.
I feel better as the day wears on.
Our beautiful friends our sydney family pop in with pizza for dinner (so much for my clean diet!) and give us lots of love. I love these guys, they are crazy just like us and we spend the evening in love and laughter.
Wednesday
I wake up Wednesday morning the day of the clinic appointment feeling sick to my stomach. I feel like I want to vomit. Can't eat, can't drink, cant even stomach a coffee. Now that is big for me, I am queen of coffee! and so off we go.
We are at a private breast clinic which has all the facilities on site. These guys are Boobs Incorporated. I see the nurse (have a little tear) then the doctor. The doctor is fairly unimpressed by both the lump and the dimpling, she can feel and see it but says it could be a number of things, the smallest percentage being cancer. I am mildly reassured by this. Mildly.
Mammogram time. Im sure a man invented this. I honestly wonder if they would do the same thing to their balls on an annual basis if they had to be screened for testicular cancer. I believe if that were the case, the male population may be a lot lower!
So my poor boobies have the life squeezed out of them by two perspex plates and xrays are taken. The doc says they are inconclusive. There is something there but they cant quite figure out what it is. So off to ultrasound. But regardless of the US findings, I will be having a biopsy today. Yay me.
The ulstrasound is the teller. The doc looks at the films of the US and sees something nasty, which she is pretty sure is cancer.
Strangely enough I am as zen as a Buddhist monk. I was kind of expecting it. I knew it deep down somewhere. My husband is all practical. "wait for the biopsy, nothing is certain until the biopsy" yeah yeah I tell him knowing the biospy is just a formalisation. Whatever is in there aint good.
So we have 2 fine needle aspirations as there are 2 areas (awesome) and 2 core biopsies.
The FNA is put on slides straight away and looked at by the doctor and the pathologist and cancer is confirmed. The core is sent for further testing.
I call my friend where I used to work who is a breast care nurse and give her the lowdown. She is absolutely amazing. The machine goes into overdrive.
I am in lala land!
Numb.
Head is spinning.
All I want to do is hold my girls. I call my ex (their father) as they are with him this week. I ask if I can pick them up. He asks why and I say "because Ive just been diagnosed with breast cancer and I need my babies" and then I lose it.
He is going to drop them off, my eldest is still at home, she has been informed of everything throughout the day, we go home and wait for the girls.
They come home all sprightly and happy. "how come we came home early mum?" I try and think of the best way to do this. Shit. How do I do this?
I get them to sit with me and I just say it.
"I went to the doctors today and had a few tests and I have breast cancer"
They lose it. My youngest cries but my 13 year old wails. She wails like I have never heard her wail. It smashes my heart into a gazillion pieces. I am crying, the girls are crying even my husband is crying although he hid behind the dog! ha! man.
I explain to them that I'm not dying, I have cancer and I have to have surgery and chemotherapy but I have no intention of dying just yet.
I try and pick my words carefully. I dont want to say I'm not going to die because I'm not a fan of tempting fate. I have a ridiculously large superstitious streak and I don't dare attempt to cause karma to bite my ass at this point!
I tell them matter of fact and to the point.
"Yes people die of breast cancer but the treatments are very good nowadays and lots of people dont die. I don't know if I will die but I am certainly going to give it my best shot not to!"
I tell them about our good friend who is the mother of their friends who had breast cancer 10 years ago and is still going strong (touch wood, spit on the evil eye etc etc) Ha! you thought I was kidding!
I am so tired after this long and exhausting day but again I am scared to go to sleep. So I stay with the girls for a bit while my husband goes to bed early. He needs some private gentleman time, not in that way! But in the way men need to withdraw to deal with their pain. I go to bed with him to try and comfort him and let him know its ok to show his feelings to us, but at the end of the day, he is but a man!
My girls have a slumber party together in the lounge on couches and mattresses and stay up late watching movies together. Sibling togetherness, it warms my heart.
If I'm not around, they will have each other. Not that I have any intention of going anywhere soon! (wood, eye)
They come home all sprightly and happy. "how come we came home early mum?" I try and think of the best way to do this. Shit. How do I do this?
I get them to sit with me and I just say it.
"I went to the doctors today and had a few tests and I have breast cancer"
They lose it. My youngest cries but my 13 year old wails. She wails like I have never heard her wail. It smashes my heart into a gazillion pieces. I am crying, the girls are crying even my husband is crying although he hid behind the dog! ha! man.
I explain to them that I'm not dying, I have cancer and I have to have surgery and chemotherapy but I have no intention of dying just yet.
I try and pick my words carefully. I dont want to say I'm not going to die because I'm not a fan of tempting fate. I have a ridiculously large superstitious streak and I don't dare attempt to cause karma to bite my ass at this point!
I tell them matter of fact and to the point.
"Yes people die of breast cancer but the treatments are very good nowadays and lots of people dont die. I don't know if I will die but I am certainly going to give it my best shot not to!"
I tell them about our good friend who is the mother of their friends who had breast cancer 10 years ago and is still going strong (touch wood, spit on the evil eye etc etc) Ha! you thought I was kidding!
I am so tired after this long and exhausting day but again I am scared to go to sleep. So I stay with the girls for a bit while my husband goes to bed early. He needs some private gentleman time, not in that way! But in the way men need to withdraw to deal with their pain. I go to bed with him to try and comfort him and let him know its ok to show his feelings to us, but at the end of the day, he is but a man!
My girls have a slumber party together in the lounge on couches and mattresses and stay up late watching movies together. Sibling togetherness, it warms my heart.
If I'm not around, they will have each other. Not that I have any intention of going anywhere soon! (wood, eye)
Friday, 11 May 2012
Its Saturday the 12th May and Im sitting here pondering over the last week of my life.
Monday: GP found a breast lump
Wednesday: Ultrasound shows something nasty, Biopsy confirms said nastiness.
HOUSTON! We have a breast cancer!
Friday: Medical Oncologist to discuss chemo and surgeon to discuss getting this little bastard out!
A little about me.
I am 39 years old, have 3 beautiful children (all girls) and a gorgeous husband. I am a cancer nurse and have worked in cancer care for the past 12 years. I have done all aspects of cancer care including palliative care, day chemotherapy and bone marrow transplant. My passion is haematology (leukaemia, lymphoma and the like). Recently I left the clinical setting to work for a department who provides online resources for clinicians dealing with cancer including treatment protocols, best practise for oncological emergencies and clinical procedures for common practises in cancer care.
I love animals and would quite happily live in a zoo, in our own mini zoo we have 2 hairy behemoths: a malamute and a husky cross, a wee birdie and an assortment of fish. We did have some hermit crabs but just recently said the last rites to the last one. RIP Starburst.
Monday
I had a chesty cough and felt a little crap and so took a sick day from work. Now I would normally go and nip down to the medical centre for something as simple as a prescription or a medical certificate, I only go to my GP when I need advice or a proper medical assessment. Thankfully I needed a few other things sorted so I thought I'd try and get in to see her (without actually holding out much hope as she is notoriously hard to get into)
Lo and Behold! hip hip hooray, we have an appointment. So off I go and get all the business sorted and being that time do all the mandatory lady checks. During my routine breast exam, she feels a lump in my Left breast. She asks me to feel it to see what I think and to be honest I think its the same as every other lump I have ever felt in my breast.
My breasts are quite large (E cup thankyouverymuch!) and are very lumpy and bumpy. Strangely enough I am quite paranoid about breast cancer as my 1st cousin on my mothers side died of a nasty nasty breast tumour quite quickly 20 years ago, and then recently her mother, my maternal aunt was diagnosed with a small tumour on a routine mammogram.
So I have had many ultra sounds over the years checking out weird lumps and bumps that have popped up and freaked me out. But to be honest I wasnt actually concerned about this one because it really seemed like the same old same old. Boy was I wrong!
My GP doesnt think its anything sinister but sends me off for a scan anyway. I am quite complacent. Until. The next day as I am about to hop in the shower, Im looking at my breasts in the mirror and I raise my arms above my head. As I do this I just happen to turn slightly and I see a flat spot on my breast where the lump is.
This is the point where the universe explodes. I know that this is not good. This is a warning sign. A beacon. A klaxon. Warning Warning Will Robinson!
I feel sick. I dont go to work that day. I am still chesty and fluey but was planning on going. Not any more, I cant sit there and write about cancer. Talk about cancer. Be surrounded by cancer. Not with this potential ticking time bomb in my breast.
So I retreat into my little couch world and ponder the worst. I google breast dimpling. There are some other causes including fat necrosis, benign cysts and the like, but the most common one that comes up is breast cancer.
I book my scan. Thankfully they can get me in the next day. So I am slightly comforted by that. Slightly.
I text my husband telling him what I found. Ever practical and calming he tells me not to fret its probably nothing. I text my friend who is 10 years cancer free. She out of everyone is the only one who knows what I am going through, but even then she is a non medical person. I am a cancer nurse. I have seen all the worst case scenarios and they aint nice! She also tries to reassure me that it may be nothing but also says she is here for me no matter what. I text my friend who is a trainee oncologist who wants to specialise in breast and gynae. She calls me and is more practical, more medical, asking me symptoms, last scans etc. I break down and lose it I dont want to die! I dont want to leave my children, they need me! What if all this back pain is bone mets! What if these lung issues are lung mets! What if my headaches are brain mets! Im freaking out now.
She reassures me that no matter what I have an army of clinicians at my disposal and that regardless of the outcome I will have the best treatment ever. And anyway. Its probably nothing.
I text my mum. I had been reluctant to do this as she has been going through a lot of stress and I didnt want to stress her further. But then on the other hand, if it turned out to be the worst scenario, I didnt want to drop a nuclear bomb in her lao either. At least this way, she would be slightly prepared.
Got the same spiel, its all good, its probably nothing. Let me know immediately what the test say. She tells me she knows its going to be ok, I feel it in my bones. I feel a dark cloud when she says that like karma is listening and has decided to prove her wrong.
My eldest daughter hears all of this and tries to comfort me. She offers to come to the scan with me, I am a little hesitant, she is my child, I accompany and comfort you! Not the other way around!
I have the most awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. This will not bode well. I feel it.
Monday: GP found a breast lump
Wednesday: Ultrasound shows something nasty, Biopsy confirms said nastiness.
HOUSTON! We have a breast cancer!
Friday: Medical Oncologist to discuss chemo and surgeon to discuss getting this little bastard out!
A little about me.
I am 39 years old, have 3 beautiful children (all girls) and a gorgeous husband. I am a cancer nurse and have worked in cancer care for the past 12 years. I have done all aspects of cancer care including palliative care, day chemotherapy and bone marrow transplant. My passion is haematology (leukaemia, lymphoma and the like). Recently I left the clinical setting to work for a department who provides online resources for clinicians dealing with cancer including treatment protocols, best practise for oncological emergencies and clinical procedures for common practises in cancer care.
I love animals and would quite happily live in a zoo, in our own mini zoo we have 2 hairy behemoths: a malamute and a husky cross, a wee birdie and an assortment of fish. We did have some hermit crabs but just recently said the last rites to the last one. RIP Starburst.
Monday
I had a chesty cough and felt a little crap and so took a sick day from work. Now I would normally go and nip down to the medical centre for something as simple as a prescription or a medical certificate, I only go to my GP when I need advice or a proper medical assessment. Thankfully I needed a few other things sorted so I thought I'd try and get in to see her (without actually holding out much hope as she is notoriously hard to get into)
Lo and Behold! hip hip hooray, we have an appointment. So off I go and get all the business sorted and being that time do all the mandatory lady checks. During my routine breast exam, she feels a lump in my Left breast. She asks me to feel it to see what I think and to be honest I think its the same as every other lump I have ever felt in my breast.
My breasts are quite large (E cup thankyouverymuch!) and are very lumpy and bumpy. Strangely enough I am quite paranoid about breast cancer as my 1st cousin on my mothers side died of a nasty nasty breast tumour quite quickly 20 years ago, and then recently her mother, my maternal aunt was diagnosed with a small tumour on a routine mammogram.
So I have had many ultra sounds over the years checking out weird lumps and bumps that have popped up and freaked me out. But to be honest I wasnt actually concerned about this one because it really seemed like the same old same old. Boy was I wrong!
My GP doesnt think its anything sinister but sends me off for a scan anyway. I am quite complacent. Until. The next day as I am about to hop in the shower, Im looking at my breasts in the mirror and I raise my arms above my head. As I do this I just happen to turn slightly and I see a flat spot on my breast where the lump is.
This is the point where the universe explodes. I know that this is not good. This is a warning sign. A beacon. A klaxon. Warning Warning Will Robinson!
I feel sick. I dont go to work that day. I am still chesty and fluey but was planning on going. Not any more, I cant sit there and write about cancer. Talk about cancer. Be surrounded by cancer. Not with this potential ticking time bomb in my breast.
So I retreat into my little couch world and ponder the worst. I google breast dimpling. There are some other causes including fat necrosis, benign cysts and the like, but the most common one that comes up is breast cancer.
I book my scan. Thankfully they can get me in the next day. So I am slightly comforted by that. Slightly.
I text my husband telling him what I found. Ever practical and calming he tells me not to fret its probably nothing. I text my friend who is 10 years cancer free. She out of everyone is the only one who knows what I am going through, but even then she is a non medical person. I am a cancer nurse. I have seen all the worst case scenarios and they aint nice! She also tries to reassure me that it may be nothing but also says she is here for me no matter what. I text my friend who is a trainee oncologist who wants to specialise in breast and gynae. She calls me and is more practical, more medical, asking me symptoms, last scans etc. I break down and lose it I dont want to die! I dont want to leave my children, they need me! What if all this back pain is bone mets! What if these lung issues are lung mets! What if my headaches are brain mets! Im freaking out now.
She reassures me that no matter what I have an army of clinicians at my disposal and that regardless of the outcome I will have the best treatment ever. And anyway. Its probably nothing.
I text my mum. I had been reluctant to do this as she has been going through a lot of stress and I didnt want to stress her further. But then on the other hand, if it turned out to be the worst scenario, I didnt want to drop a nuclear bomb in her lao either. At least this way, she would be slightly prepared.
Got the same spiel, its all good, its probably nothing. Let me know immediately what the test say. She tells me she knows its going to be ok, I feel it in my bones. I feel a dark cloud when she says that like karma is listening and has decided to prove her wrong.
My eldest daughter hears all of this and tries to comfort me. She offers to come to the scan with me, I am a little hesitant, she is my child, I accompany and comfort you! Not the other way around!
I have the most awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. This will not bode well. I feel it.
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