CT Scan

Colin drove me to East Surrey for my early doors CT scan. I had to be there for 08:40, which meant rush hour traffic - lovely. When I arrived I had to drink a litre of water. I was asked to change into the lovely hospital gowns and was taken to a waiting room.

After about 10 minutes I was called through, I lay down on the bed, fearing the worst after last weeks' scan and they then told me it would only be 15 minutes long - huzzah!! They also got the cannula in first time - double huzzzah!

I had the scan with contrast which was the giant polo that I have had many times before and then headed back to the waiting room. Once I'd peed and showed them I was having no reaction to the contrast, I was allowed home.

Results from this and the MRI are due next Thursday. Scanxiety time.

MRI Scan and a Gig!

Today was a bloody weird mixture of a day!

First thing I had a delightful MRI at East Surrey hospital. It has been snowing here for the past few days, luckily yesterday Rob put winter tyres on Beppe (my little Italian car!) and we drove to Redhill. The MRI was of my head, spine and chest. It was awful. Normally I am okay with MRIs, I just get on with them because there isn't much else you can do. But since my denosumab last week, I have been having massive pain flares. I had to lie very still on the hard MRI bed, with my head strapped into a thing that felt like a scold's bridle and a weight thing on my chest for two. fecking. hours. When you are having extreme pain in your spine, not being allowed to move whilst lying on something hard is not fun at all. I could cope with the beeping, whirring and clunking noises but it was unbelievably painful to lie that still for that long. Anyway I did it. Legend.

We then drove in the snow to Gatwick as we are having a few fun days in London. We caught the train from Gatwick up to London and got to our funky hub hotel. We chilled out for a bit, had dinner at The Diner and then went to a tiny venue called Hoxton Hall to see a singer Rob and I love called Aurora. There must have only been 250 people there so it was intimately awesome.

She also sung one of my motivation songs called Warrior. Have a listen

CT & Bone Scan

Today I had my two scans at East Surrey hospital. I slept so badly last night, I'm so fecking terrified. My mind is going to some really bad places, running down rabbit warrens, on and on, it's impossible to stop it. I know I don't know yet but I'm pretty convinced it's going to be shitty news.

Anyway, I had to be nil by mouth from 06:40, 4 hours before the CT scan (not hard, I can't eat at the moment anyway, I projectile vomit, 6lbs lost since Thursday...). We drove to the hospital with me trying to drink water (you have to drink a litre in an hour before the scan) and not vom. We signed in at the reception and then I was led away, told to put a gown on and was then led through to the CT machine. I had a drip thing put in my hand and started crying. The team were really nice and explained everything that was going on but lying under the whirring machine brought everything crashing down and smacked me in the face. Basically they are checking my organs for cancer. If there is cancer in the organs I will die from it. Cancer in the organs or bones is treatable but not curable, and that's the rabbit warren I've been going down.

Then I went round to nuclear medicine and had a radioactive dye inserted into my veins and was told to go away for 3 hours to give the dye time to get around my body.

Rob and I left and went for some lunch but I am literally finding it impossible to eat, everything makes me want to hurl. In the end after a lot of debate I chose an open chicken sandwich, I managed about 8 mouthfuls before I had to run to the loo to be sick. I'm in such a state of overwhelm my body just rejects everything. It's so bad as I need to keep my strength up but I'm finding it so hard.

We head back to nuclear medicine and I have the bone scan, it takes 22 minutes exactly. I'm lying on a bed (my head saw it as a mortuary slab - told you I was in a dark place) and a camera starts at the top of my body taking photo after photo until it reaches my toes. And then it's done.

I should have the results from these scans and my biopsy all in one go next Tuesday. Basically if it is cancer, they want to be able to tell me everything all in one go. It's shit I have to wait but it does make sense that way.

Fucksticks

P.S. Scans are shit but sparkly shoes are always amazing.

Fucksticks

I've been so scared that the doctor had misdiagnosed me that I kept on going for appointments and pushing and being a general pain in the arse.

Thank fuck I did. On Tuesday I went to the breast specialist who felt my areas of concern and told me she was "not concerned" but that she would refer me for an ultrasound anyway.

Today I had that ultrasound and they have done a biopsy as they have spotted a bit they want to investigate further. But basically they think my cancer is back. I have to wait a max of 7 days for the results to come back and they are also booking me in for a bone scan and a CT scan. Holy fucking shit.

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.

Check Up

Today I had my annual appointment with medical oncology at Redhill. Even though I've been feeling well and I give myself some TLC (Touch, Look, Check) at least once a week, there is just something about the familiar drive to the hospital and the familiar walk to the outpatient's department that makes me feel sick. 

The rational part of me knows that I haven't felt any lumps and that should give me security but all rational thought really goes out the window. Especially with Rob being so poorly lately - don't ask... 2x hospitalisations for diverticulitis and associated complications - one hospital stay was 10 days long :( , my emotions have been tested like never before.

We were waiting in a stuffy, non air-conditioned room for over an hour and a half. The note on the board said they were running 25 minutes late, no-one bothered to come and explain or even acknowledge the people waiting. Really poor show as people's emotions just become more heightened and fraught. 

I was eventually called through and was seen by my oncologist's registrar. She asked how I'd been feeling and told me that in a few years once I've done 5 years on tamoxifen we can try for kids (yippee - 3 years down already)! She then gave my boobs, armpits, collar bone and back a feel and told me everything felt okay and that she'd see me in a years' time. 

Hooray, some good news after the stress of the past month 😊

Unlucky for some

Friday 13th. Joy. I'm not generally supersistious, but when I get THE letter on the door mat advising me of my upcoming mammogram, of course it would bloody be on Friday 13th.

Rob couldn't come to the scan so Mish kindly came with me instead. I go to work in the morning, trying to distract myself with inane tasks, they don't help. Drive on autopilot to Mish's house, she drives me to the hospital. I walk the familiar walk to the X-ray department, check in, get the usual quizzical look from the receptionist (head tilt + curiosity + you're so young) and get directed (I don't listen, I already know the way) to the mammogram waiting area.

Another young woman is waiting there, she has the evident chemo curls, I smile at her and wonder if she is on YBCN. I get the usual impatient leg jiggle, mind wandering all over the place. Then I'm called in. I know the procedure, top off, details checked, the mammographer's cold hands, standing awkwardly at the machine, being too short so having to stand on tiptoes but stand as still as possible. The scans are done, they hurt. I look at the mammographer's face and she gives nothing away. Of course she doesn't. Then it's over. Mish gives me a hug and we leave the hospital. 

Now I wait.