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.

QT Check and update

Last Friday we went back to Guildford for my QT prolongation check-up. I had an ECG and had a sneak peak at the numbers, one was 310 and the other was 440. The last time the magic number was 481 so both of the numbers were under that. We waited for quite a while as TC's clinic was running an hour late. We were called in and then told that my QT rhythm was back to normal. Good stuff. TC then said that I had another week off the trial drug due to how the cycle works....

4-weekly cycle:

- 1 Letrozole tablet every day

- 1 Calceos (calcium carbonate and vitamin D3) tablet every day

- 3 Ribociclib tablets for 3 weeks, then 1 week off

At the moment I'm on week 4 of the cycle which means no Ribociclib. This Friday (1st September), I'll have my end of cycle check. This includes another ECG, bloods and vitals. As long as my ECG shows my QT rhythm is fine I'll be going back on 3 ribociclib pills. To be honest this does frighten me a bit as what if it negatively affects the QT rhythm again? I also had lots of side effects when I was on the ribociclib (in addition to the QT rhythm): nausea, constipation, diarrhoea, severe anxiety, insomnia and fatigue. I'm shit scared of getting them all back again.

Since coming off the ribociclib for the fortnight, the only symptoms I've had from the above list are anxiety (but much less so), insomnia and fatigue. Obviously I've still had other side effects (hot flushes, night sweats, bone pain in various areas, thinning hair, weight loss and emotional swings), but I'm not sure if they are attributable to the cancer, menopause or letrozole. I've also had a metallic taste in my mouth but I know that is because of the zopiclone. The zopiclone is helping me sleep by the way! I'm still waking a few times a night, but nowhere near what I was. I'm nervous about becoming dependent on it though. I'll be discussing with TC on Friday as it's important I'm able to sleep without relying on pills.

At the appointment last Friday, I mentioned to TC that I'd had some bone pain, he said it was more than likely the cancer dying. Let's go with that! Last time I blogged I said I was having zometa and was worried about the potential pain. Am pleased to report that although there was some pain the day after, it was very minimal compared to last time! Having said that, it actually has increased in the past few days, especially in my sternum and lower spine. This does make me nervous that it's the cancer spreading but I have to just hope that the systemic treatment is doing its job.

I went to the dentist today as I've had some pain in the upper left side of my mouth for about two weeks. It's not constant, but it is noticeable. The dentist thoroughly examined the area and gave me an x-ray but said he could not see anything obvious causing the pain. Rather than reassuring me, this makes me catastrophise that I have bone mets in my jaw and skull. Another thing to mention to TC on Friday....

In other news, and a bloody big achievement, yesterday and today I drove myself to the office. It may sound like nothing, but until a fortnight ago I hadn't driven for a few months as I was simply unable to due to pain. It's also a massive step because I hadn't physically been in the office since before my diagnosis. It felt weirdly normal to be there. Almost like I hadn't been away. I guess because I've been working from home when I've been able to, it's not like I'm out of the loop when it comes to the actual work. I'm really proud of myself for making the step and going in. It's a step forward towards some normality and gaining some form of control over this bastard disease.

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!

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!