The Greek Dyno-Rod

⚠️ Epic post alert ⚠️

We had been in the Isle of Wight for a few days and I noticed I was getting more and more breathless.

Rob, the doggies and I went for a lovely coastal walk along the cliffs, but it involved scrambling, stairs, stepping stones, pebbles along the beach and steep climbs. The end of this walk was a steep hill, and at the top I was so breathless I thought I was about to vomit and/or pass out.

In the end, just walking from the bedroom to the toilet in our holiday flat was leaving me out of breath. Rob made me go to a local GP on the island and thank goodness he did.

I got to the GP and she examined me and then requested I do a blood test called a D Dimer as she was worried I might have a pulmonary embolism! They were able to do it then and there in the doctor's surgery. So they did the test. The result came back in 20 minutes. Normal results are less than 500µg/L and mine was 1,200! My heart rate was also about 135. That meant a trip to A & E.... 

We rushed back to the flat and let the doggies out to pee and then headed off to the island’s only A&E in Newport. We waited for a small amount of time and then after triage I was taken straight to the ER beds where I had to have a blood test and a cannula.

Then I had an x-ray of my lungs. Basically the result was that I didn’t have a pulmonary embolism but I did have something called a pleural effusion:

Pleural effusion, sometimes referred to as “water on the lungs,” is the build-up of excess fluid between the layers of the pleura outside the lungs. The pleura are thin membranes that line the lungs and the inside of the chest cavity and act to lubricate and facilitate breathing.

Image from pedilung.com 

So that explained my shortness of breath. Basically as the effusion grew larger, it meant there was more fluid in the lining. It meant it was getting harder for my left lung to expand and therefore more difficult for me to breathe. There was chest pain because the pleural lung was irritated. 

The xray results showed that I had 2.2l of fluid on my left lung! That’s over a big bottle of cola in my lung. Think how heavy that is. And I’m only 5ft1! No wonder I was breathless and sore....

The procedure to get rid of the liquid is called a thoracocentesis, basically they insert a ruddy great needle into the pleural space around my lung and then drain off the fluid. Sounds simple enough but pretty ruddy painful. Now you should understand why the post is named Greek Dyno-Rod!

The only drain option on the IoW was a slow drain and I would have had to have been in that hospital until Sunday. Our accommodation was due to run out on Friday, this was all happening on a Wednesday. We had the dogs so obviously would have had to have found dog friendly accommodation. Therefore we put our foot down. We wanted to travel home. The doc was unsure as if there was an issue on the ferry I would have had to have had a helicopter called out! He asked his consultant who gave us the okay to travel. As soon as we got the okay and they had contacted East Surrey to arrange the op there we were out of there!

We rushed back to the flat, Rob heroically packed it all up and we drove to the ferry terminal, crossing fingers all the way that they would let us on. Thank goodness they did.

We turned up bright and early at East Surrey on Thursday only to be told there was no-one there that could do the op!! As I was breathing without oxygen they told me to go away and come back the next day! So as we were on holiday still, we made the most of it and went and saw the new Avengers movie 🙂

Try again! Friday we turn up at East Surrey and this time they say we’re on the list and can come in! Rob and I wait for a while and then I’m sent for another x-ray. Normally when you have a scan of any kind the people taking the images are pokerfaced and say nothing. This time, the man takes the image and then says "how long have you felt this poorly?" I say "oh a few days, I know about the fluid as I have had a scan already". He then says "Ah okay, I was wondering! Most people complain about fluid at 300ml, you have 2,200ml; you're hardcore!"

I then go back to Kingsfold Unit, wait for about an hour and then go through to a side room. The doctor and a trainee explain the procedure, ask me to sign a consent form, give me an ultrasound over my ribs so they know where to shove the ruddy great needle and it begins!

The doctor gives me an anaesthetic and some oramorph and then puts the 15cm screwdriver type needle into the pleural space and attaches a drain. Loads of liquid begins to drain out and I'm taken to the recovery ward.

Just a small needle.... 

The liquid continues to drain out and then the pain begins. As the liquid dissipates, my left lung begins to reinflate. The pain is fecking hideous and I roar and shout a lot. I also cough continually as the air begins to fill back in. It hurts so much.

The doctor comes over and gives me some more oramorph. The morphine makes me feel groggy and I have a sleep. About an hour later I wake up and we're told we can go home.

Here's a photo of me smiling (wtaf!) with the drain in, the 15cm needle and the liquid, which I promise you is not pee!

Thank you Mish xx

Mother's Day

When cancer has taken away your possibility of being a mum, Mother's Day is particularly hard. The ever continuous rise of social media, the shops, the TV etc means you simply can't escape it. People telling the world on Facebook how much they love their mums irks me somewhat. Please, if you are going to see your mum in person, just tell her. Call her, text her whatever. The world doesn't need to know.

I hate cancer for destroying families that never had a chance to be created, and for tearing apart those that existed before.

Kitty, this means more to me than you will know xxx

Having said all of that, I did have a lovely day cooking a roast with Rob for Mum, Col, Nanny and Granny Clarice xx

Stepping out of the shadows

So I haven’t blogged properly in a long time. The truth is it’s been a difficult ride of late. So, what’s new in JojoLand:

1. I’m no longer on the trial. Ribociclib had some seriously severe side effects which were impossible to cope with. I had already dropped down to 2 pills but it made no difference. We ended up having the “quality vs quantity discussion” but in the end it was taken out of my hands as TC made the decision. It’s supposed to be a wonder drug but with the side effects it causes it’s just not worth it.
2. I’ve been in A & E 3 times in as many weeks. First time for severe back pain, sent away with oramorph. Second time for either a reaction to the contrast I had during or a severe panic attack. My heart rate was at 130 and stayed high for hours.Third time (ie now, blogging from my hospital bed) was for suspected spinal cord compression. It’s now been confirmed it’s not that thank goodness! My MRI scan did show a “white spot” at the top of my spine though, I found out a few hours ago it’s not mets, I burst into tears when they told me. Apparently it’s just “an anomaly” that could have always been there...
3. I had a brain scan. The most noisy, claustrophobic scan ever. I’m waiting for further results on this. They have come back already as “abnormal” which is obviously shit scary. Cross fingers for me please.
4. I’m going to need a new treatment plan. Once I find out wtf is going on with point 3 above then I’ll be in a position to move forward but for now I’m stuck in limbo land.
5. I saved someone's life. I gave a man CPR and made him breathe again.

End of Cycle 1

At the moment it feels like I'm having non-stop hospital visits. It's so draining and I just want some normality back in my (and Rob's) life.

It feels like Groundhog Day. We went to Guildford hospital, I had my bloods done again, had an ECG done again and then met with Avril. We talked through my symptoms and about how sad I feel. I just really feel low. I need to pull myself out of this pit of sadness but at the moment it just feels like I'm wading through sand. I told Avril about my tooth pain and she said I was to keep an eye on it. She also checked my last bone scan and there were no mets in my skull or jaw which is a good sign. It doesn't explain the pain though, perhaps I have been clenching my teeth in my sleep but it just feels really localised.

Anyway, after an hours' delay, we met with TC. My QT rhythm was normal so I'm back on the largest dose of ribociclib - 3 pills. I'm bloody nervous of this but I have to try and trust that they know best.

I asked TC about the dependence on zopiclone and he said not to worry, if it's helping me sleep then just to carry on with it and prescribed me another month's worth. I hate how it gives me a metal taste in my mouth though and also that I just don't fully sleep still. Everything I have read about it says that it's addictive, you shouldn't take it for more than 2-4 weeks (I've been on it for about 2 weeks now) and that you should only really take it if you can guarantee 7-8 hours sleep. I definitely am not getting that, I wake up all the time with night sweats. I'm struggling to know what to do!

We then had to wait around for 3 hours(!) for the next cycle of prescriptions to be dispensed and eventually we drove home.

Cycle 1 - Halfway check

So I've just had my two week check for my first cycle on my trial drug. Rob drove me to Guildford and we met with Avril (the research nurse), she sent me off for my blood tests. I had to wait for about an hour for my bloods to be taken and once they were done we met Avril again. I was feeling really anxious and shaky, we chatted about the side effects I've been having and I was then sent off for an ECG.

Common issues from my trial drug at this point are low blood counts, rarer are issues like heart problems.

We were waiting to meet TC when Avril came to see me and told me there is an issue with my heart rhythm. Fuck. The QT something or other was too high. I had to wait for an hour and then have another ECG.

We were waiting for ages to see TC, and when we were finally called in, my second ECG also showed that the QT rate was too high. The rate had reduced since the first one, but not enough for the trial parameters or to actually be safe. Therefore they've taken me off the trial drug for a week but I still continue with letrozole. 

TC said not to worry and that at the start they will always play around until they get the dose right. Easier said than done though. I guess it makes sense, as why would a dose for me be the same dose as say a 15 stone woman... I have to go back in a week for a repeat ECG and then they will look at what to do, probably reduce my ribociclib dose down. I've just got to hope this is what happens rather than getting taken off it all together.

I also told TC and Avril about my lack of sleep. Although when I take the diphenhydramine I manage to sleep fitfully (as in I still wake multiple times a night but I manage to fall asleep again after the night sweats), it still isn't good sleep. So he's prescribed me something called zopiclone which I will take tonight:

Zopiclone boosts the effectiveness of a chemical in the brain called gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA). GABA blocks transmission across nerves in the brain and has a calming effect. By boosting the effectiveness of GABA, zopiclone improves sleep.

Then yet more waiting until I had my adamantium which was pretty much the same as last time, apart from the fact every chair was full of different people receiving treatment. When I last had it, I had the ward to myself. I've just got to hope I don't get the horrible pain tomorrow like what happened 6 weeks ago, please please!

Where are you Sandman?

Until this shituation arrived, I never realised how much I took for granted. Walking, driving, sleeping, working, thinking. All of these and more have been taken out of my hands since treatment started. I manage to walk now most days as mercifully my pain has reduced. However, I have my adamantium again this Friday, the day after the last time I had it, the pain was awful, I was crying out, I'm crossing everything this won't be the same again. Other people have said the first was the worst so I really hope this happens for me too.

Anyway, this post is about sleep, or lack thereof. For the past week, I have had really awful sleep. As in I haven't really had any. The other night I watched the clock tick by, hour after hour with no sleep coming. Then, the night sweats arrived. These are a hideous side effect of the menopause, which are exacerbated by my letrozole. One night I had 18 in a night, they keep you awake, or if you are asleep, they wake you up. You end up "sweating" the bed. Sometimes it's a minimal sweat, sometimes it's a full on drenching, Whichever it is, it's not pleasant.

Unfortunately, because of my oestrogen positive breast cancer, I can't take HRT, so alleviating the symptoms has to come another way. I called my trial team to discuss and they recommended a few drugs, we had to wait a few days to hear back from Novartis who are the trial owners, and unfortunately I cannot take them.... Bollocks. I also cannot take any natural sleep aids (though they wouldn't help with the sweats) like herbal Nytol, Kalms or anything else similar. 

My trial team also told me I could change my letrozole brand back. When I took letrozole for a week before I took my ribociclib, I was on a brand called Dr Reddy's. When I started the trial drug I was given a new brand called Manx Healthcare. Before the trial I had very minimal night sweats, since starting the trial drug, the sweats have started. It could just be coincidence (as I'm getting further away from my oophorectomy and therefore the side effects from that could be kicking in), but they've said I can switch back, so I've done that for the past 3 doses. It will take a while for my body to get rid of the other version and may make bugger all difference, but it's worth a try.

Rob has very kindly bought me something called a Chillow. It's basically a cool mat which you put in your fridge. It is full of a gel which becomes cool and then at night you put it in your pillowcase. When you lie on it it's supposed to keep you cool. I've tried it for two nights now, it does keep you cool for a few hours, but then heats up with the warmth of your head. You can turn it over, I'm not sure how effective it is to be honest, but it's something. We also have the free-standing fan going. 

So last night my sweats reduced, thank goodness. However, I didn't sleep. At all. It was awful. Again I watched the hours tick by (this time metaphorically as I try not to look at the time on my phone), watched the sky get lighter, twisting, turning, getting hot, shivering, it's just awful. I ended up moving beds in the end. I think I slept from 5:30-6:30, that's it. Today I am beyond exhausted. We are going to try sleeping under sheets rather than the duvet. We have been sleeping under a duvet and also tried a quilt but neither are ideal. Let's hope the sheet idea works even a little.

I took a call from my trial team earlier today, I'm allowed to take diphenhydramine! This is a sleep aid which is an antihistamine that works by reducing histamine which stimulates your mind. My mum has picked me a Nytol version up today, so I will try taking one tonight and hoping that it works.

So my magic (hopefully) combination will be: 

Fan + chillow + diphenhydramine + sheet + new-old letrozole = sleep....? 

Fingers crossed! 

I'm on the trial!

Today I had an appointment at Guildford hospital with my trial onc TC and my research nurse Avril. Avril told me that the bloods I had done last week were all within the range for the trial protocol and then she sent me off for an ECG.

I last had an ECG back in 2012 to check my heart was okay for chemo. This time I went in to the room, took off my tshirt, the lady conducting the ECG put about 8 sticky pads on me and attached clips to each of them. She turned on a machine, it beeped and less than thirty seconds later she took the pads off and gave me my printout.

We headed back upstairs and I gave my printout to Avril. We waited for about ten minutes and then were called into a room with Avril and TC. It was then I learnt that I'm on the trial! So although it's all very unknown and therefore scary, I'm on what TC says is "the best treatment on planet earth right now" for my kind of cancer. Thank you everyone who has had their fingers crossed since June 14th!

Unfortunately the results from last weeks scans weren't back, but based on my PET scan results TC was happy to go ahead. We asked him to go through the PET results in more detail, so I now know that (in addition to the lower lumbar region that I found out about last week), the bastard is also in one vertebrae higher up and my pelvis. At least this explains the pain. It does upset me as he originally told me it hadn't spread, however, TC said these mets may have been there all along and at the start of this shitty journey, I hadn't had a PET scan. I.e. The mets would not have been picked up on just a CT and bone scan, it needed the more detailed PET scan to spot the buggers. The other thing he mentioned was a slight "something" on my lung. This frightened the hell out of me. However, he said the PET scan shows cancer through cell activity taking up glucose and this 1p sized area was not doing that, which makes it unlikely to be cancer. So scarring from a previous infection or something similar. Obviously, having been dealt blow after blow, I want to believe what he says, but it is still scary. Now I'm on the trial, I will be monitored fastidiously, so if this area does turn out to be suspicious, at least I'm having scans etc that will keep an eye on it. TC said he wasn't concerned about it, I just have to trust him.

We then had to wait for over 2 hours for my meds to be dispensed. Apparently because its trial medication, it will always take this long. Eventually we got my drug stash and had another meeting with Avril. She went through how to take them and also gave me a tick chart to ensure I mark off having taken them every day. This really satisfies my Jo-CD. Lastly she gave me a card which I have to carry at all times. It contains details of my trial and important contact numbers. If you are ever with me and we have some sort of medical emergency, please ask for my card!

We then drove home and I took my first dose!

Ovary Scan

Today I had a phone call from East Surrey hospital saying they had a cancellation and could I go in that afternoon for the scan on my ovaries. Not an ideal way to spend a Saturday afternoon but hey, if it means things get moving quicker then let's get on with it.

We arrived early and as there was no queue I was seen straight away. It was a fairly "invasive" scan but was over in under 10 minutes. The lady doing the scan very kindly told me then and there that everything looked normal meaning I didn't have to wait for any results. It's definitely the little things like this lady's thoughtfulness in telling me straight away that make this journey just a tiny bit easier.

To add a bit more polish to the shiny news, the car park ticket didn't charge us for parking either - small wins!

oh-of-uh-REK-tuh-me

Today I had a meeting with the gynaecologist to discuss my oophorectomy (pronunciation is they title of the post!) I was not feeling great anyway because of a spike in pain (presuming because of yesterday's zometa) that had me writhing around, so combined with a mentally stressful meeting it was not a fun day.

We arrived at the gynaecology waiting room to discover it was a shared waiting room with antenatal. How fucking insensitive can you get?! Dear Cancer patient who will now never be a mummy, please sit here with beaming pregnant women whilst you wait for your appointment to discuss taking your ovaries at 33, plunging you into the menopause and fucking with your life plans. Kind regards. I know it's a question of space and that the gynaecologist would look at a variety of conditions but seriously, it just made a shite day even more shite.

First steps towards the oophorectomy will be having a scan on my ovaries. Providing everything is okay with that scan, I will then be booked in for the op. It looks like everything will happen over the next few weeks. My oncologist is very keen for it to happen asap, so I think they may get involved and do some pushing. Once I've had time to digest the information they've given me I'll blog about what the op actually is and involves. It's just all a bit too much at the moment.

Edit: Have had a call and it looks like my op will be on the 17th July if it goes ahead at East Surrey. If it can be done quicker, as in next week, at Guildford, I'll have it there. I bet sod's law means I get an oophorectomy for my birthday.....

Rads Marathon

So my rads marathon is done. I'm not going to say "rads are finished, hooray" because there will more than likely be more rads zaps in my future. For now though, I'm glad this schlep is over. 21 days has been tough, I'm absolutely exhausted and need to take some time to rest and be kind to myself before the next chapter starts.

PET Scan

So today (one month on from receiving the dreadful news) I had to have a PET scan. That takes me to 8 appointments this week (5x rads, 2 x oncology appointments and this PET scan) at three different hospitals. I am absolutely exhausted, this is fatigue like I have never felt before. I cannot think straight or even string a sentence together. Typing this is probably a stupid idea. In fact, it definitely is. TBC after a sleep.....

It's amazing what a restorative sleep can do! Feel betterer enough to type and actually make sense!

So this morning I had to have a PET scan at Guildford so that there are baseline scans to compare things to if I get on the drugs trial. I had to fast for 6 hours before and drink a litre of water. We arrived at the imaging unit and I was taken in to the scanning area. There I was given a radioactive glucose injection in my arm and then had to lie down for an hour (no reading, no phone, no iPad) whilst the radioactive material worked its way round my body. After the hour I had to pee so I had an empty bladder and then was taken to the scanner. It was a bit like the CT scanner I'd seen before but more enclosed. I had to lie on a bed, arms above my head and not move. The scanner whirred around me and I moved through it. Half an hour later I was done. You don't feel anything whilst having it, just a bit claustrophobic. Then I had to pee again (they like you to get as much of the radioactivity out of you as possible) and I could leave. I'm not sure if I will actually get sight of any results from this or not, I suppose only if it brings any bad news of spread elsewhere. Whilst I am hoping beyond hope this is not the case, I am pretty convinced it's on the other side of my hip as this area is hurting very much at the moment. At least I know that if this is the case, I can have rads on it or the upcoming systemic treatment (whatever that may be) would get it. At least I'm in the system now.

Blast Off

Today I had my first rads session at St Luke's. Rob drove me to the cancer centre and we parked in the dedicated radiotherapy parking area. It's good that you are provided with a free parking permit for radiotherapy, otherwise it would work out really expensive. I understand that there is a need to maintain carparks and keep them in good condition, but charging people to park in hospital carparks is something that majorly pees me off. Macmillan have a campaign to get rid of these charges for cancer patients. (I think it should be free for everyone tbf but it's a start). Please click here to sign the campaign.

Anyways, off my soapbox! After waiting for a bit, Rob and I were taken to the rads planning room and had the procedure explained to us. Then Rob went back to the waiting room and I was taken through to the rads changing room. I got into my gown and then went through to the room where the big bastard blasting machine was. I lay down on the table, the radiotherapy team positioned me in the correct place and then they left.

The machines started whirring and moving around me, making beeping noises like some really shite fairground ride. It lined up on my hip area, made more noises for about 3 minutes and then whirred and moved under me and did the same thing. And then it was over. Simple as that. I don't think I felt anything during it but afterwards it felt a little like I had brushed against nettles. At least I think it did. It may have all been in my head. Who knows!

Apparently I won't feel side effects from this blast for a few days/a week or so. I'm already armed with some gentle moisturising cream and some 99% aloe vera.

Tomorrow the rads starts on my chest area. 1 down!

Master Blaster

I had my rads planning meeting at St Luke's today. Mum drove me, I'm very lucky we're so close and that she only lives 5 minutes from me. I've also come to the conclusion that this would be shite squared if I had children. So although I'm unbelievably sad that I don't (and won't) have kiddies, doing this with them would be much worse. 

Anyways, arrived at the rads centre at East Surrey and they had no record of me, joyous start. Turns out they had my details from 2013 when I last had rads and had a different surname - genius. 

I'm eventually taken into a room to chat through the usual confirm your details, sign the are you pregnant form (gee thanks. I know why, but how about another sucker punch?!) and told what's going to happen and what the process is. 

I'm then told I will have rads on my hip (the one-off mothership big blast) either this Friday or next Tuesday. Brilliant, let's get going! Then they said your sternum and ribs rads will start 12th June. And I lose my shit. I've already been pissed around by my GP misdiagnosing me for so long (another post about that coming soon...!) If I wait another 3 weeks who knows where else this bastard will go. Then I cry. My mum turns into Mummy Tiger protecting her cub. She pleads, offers to pay, puts her foot down, says "we are not waiting that long, please see what you can do", firm but fair. Literally we are begging this lady. It's not her fault, computer is just saying no, I get that she gets it. It's the system, it doesn't take feelings into consideration. She disappears saying she will talk to Dr Zap. Comes back 20 minutes later (in the meantime I've been shrieking at my poor mum saying I cannot wait that long) and says, we will try our best to bring it forward. Harrumph.

Then off to the planning area, I have to undress and put on a gown, (no sparkly shoes this time!) and am taken to the room where the CT machine is. This scan is far, far less scary than the one from just two short (who am I kidding, the longest fortnight ever) weeks ago. I lie on a hard bed and am placed in a very specific position with my arms above my head. A beanbag type thing is moulded around my arms. They find my tattoos from last time and start drawing all over me with pen. Well this is rubbish. It's freezing and I'm trying not to shiver as you're not allowed to move. They then mark the area on my hips with two tattoos. Just little tiny blackhead looking dots. Now I have 5. 3 from before and now 2 more. Bet you're jealous.... These are to show the therapy radiographer where to aim the bastard busting beams.

Then they do the upper area, they put a sort of waxy skin on me. I think it's to protect my skin from the intensity of the rads but I can't remember. TBF it's been info overwhelm/overload so I'm allowed to forget a few things!

All of this is done in about an hour. We're then called back to the room from earlier. Hip rads confirmed for next Tuesday. They're still waiting on news about the sternum/ribs and will call me today or Thursday (feck knows what's wrong with Wednesday).

Mum drives me home and they call me an hour later. Wonder Woman has got the sternum/ribs start date brought forward to next Wednesday, as in the 31st May. It appears losing your shit and crying seems to work sometimes.

In the afternoon Rob has his follow-up appointment at Worthing hospital (2 hospitals in one day, lucky me!) after his horrible, horrible time with diverticulitis a year ago. In fact we realised he went into hospital a year ago to the day I got my diagnosis. May 17th can do one.

What Shall We Do With The Drunken Sailor

As in hooray and up she rises. As in my mood is no longer in the dark, dark place it has been.

After the meeting with the harbinger of doom last week I was in a very bad place. She made me feel like I was written off, like there was no hope. I spent hours, days trawling Dr Google (I know, I know!) looking for another me, desperately searching for answers. YBCN, MacMillan, BCC = good, random websites = very very bad.

In contrast to the dark times, the outpouring of love, messages and kindness has been really wonderful and I feel very blessed to have you all in my life.

What is very hard is people's lack of understanding however. Messages saying "we will beat this" are heartfelt and come from the right place, I just wish I didn't have to say that I will never be able to beat this. Stage 4 means it's treatable but not curable... However, I refuse to sit around like the ink is drying on my death certificate, I will fight this for as long as I possibly can.

Today I met with Dr Zap (déjà vu) and he was so much nicer and actually apologised for the HoD's bedside manner - or lack thereof! He gave me a plan. I'm such a planner and this lack of control for the past weeks has been the absolute worst.

So first things first, 4 weeks of daily (weekday) radiotherapy (aka rads). One big one off blast to my right hip/pelvis, not left as the HoD said, and 4 weeks worth (every weekday) to my sternum and ribs. They will tackle my shoulder at a later date. 4 weeks every weekday is a long old slog but let's look at it as each trip will be killing a bit more of the bastard c.

I'll be coming off tamoxifen and going on to something else, again tbc. This is because the cancer has the same makeup as last time, it's ER+/PR+/HER2- so it feeds on oestrogen which in turn means they need to shut down my ovaries. I'll probably have something like zoladex but again tbc as Dr Zap is my rads man I'll need a different oncologist to confirm this. 

Although it's a still absolutely terrifying, I'm no longer immediately planning my funeral. Dr Zap said on numerous occasions "our aim is to get this into remission".

Rads planning meeting will be tomorrow, good they're getting going quickly I guess!

Mammogram 4 years on: Situation Normal!

Finally got my mammogram results. Had to get them in the end by calling my BCN, almost a 4 week wait is pretty bad! I know the longer you wait, the more likely it is to be okay, but still they really should let you know. Waiting is the worst.

But anyway, everything is okay!! Yippeee! My BCN actually told me something I never knew, mammograms are graded from M1 > 5, with 5 being the most distorted. She told me that both sides (as in both boobs) showed as M1 and that if they could have been M0 then hey would have been! Huzzah!

Mammogram - Year 4

So today I had my 4 year mammogram, it was definitely a case of history repeating itself. Basically a copy paste of my last mammogram....., apart from swap Michelle for Rob. Other than that, same feelings, same scanxiety. Everything the same.

A few of my BC buddies question why I have my mammogram now, given that 2017 is actually 5 years since I was diagnosed, people that were diagnosed in the same month as me, have it from diagnosis. My trust have just always done it this way, so it's from when I finished treatment (other than rads), basically from when they told me all the f*cker was out of me. Hopefully this one will be okay, then I'm one year closer to the magic 5 year mark.

#FourCandles

It's so bizarre that I am now blowing out 4 cancerversary candles, the time really has gone so fast.

This time 4 years ago I was given the worst news of my life, as I blow out my 4 candles today (actually I cheated and blew them out on Sunday as today I'm having an absolute blast wandering around German vineyards!) I reflect on how fortunate I am.

Here's to loads more candles 😊

P.S. It's impossible to write four candles without thinking of this cracker of a sketch.... 

Emotional Rollercoaster

A really mixed day of emotions. Rob's grandpa sadly passed away. He's had motor neurone disease since he summer and has been speedily deteriorating ever since. Poor Rob has been ultra stressed, he's got a massive interview tomorrow for a director role at work and having to cope with his grandpa being poorly and being the rock for his family. I felt awful when I found out about grandpa as I was away in Bath with Mish. I offered to come home but he said no. I told him to smash his interview for grandpa so fingers crossed for that.

So with the lowest lows come the highest highs, I just found out my mammogram was NED. 3 years cancer-free - Yippee.

Edit: Rob absolutely kicked butt in the interview and got the job. So proud.

3 Year Cancerversary

3 Years ago today I heard the life changing words of "I'm sorry to have to tell you that it IS cancer". As I blow out my 3 candles today, I think about the YBCN angels and how very lucky I am.

Here's to lots more candles :-)

2 Years NED

2 years ago yesterday I found out that my cancer had gone, that on my second margin clearing operation they had got it all. Today I had my annual check up and saw my consultant surgeon (who I saw back in November when I had the scare). He gave my boobs a quick squodge, felt my armpits (checking the lymph nodes) and tapped my back. Then Rob and I went into his consultation room, he looked at the images from my mammogram, asked how I was tolerating the Tamoxifen and said "Okay, see you in a year"! Awesomeness :)