Health,  Parenting

I will survive…

…the home schooling…

Cancer is one thing, trying to teach the world’s most stubborn seven year old who seemingly already knows everything? Quite another.

I am knackered. It is one thing undergoing cancer treatment, it is quite another trying to do it whilst in the company of one other sole human being who you also have to look after constantly.

I miss a Chinese delivery service!

I think it is the cooking that is exhausting. When I pack the kid off to school, it is in the knowledge that well equipped with French school dinners, he is getting a very good nutritional balance. Who cares that I spend half my week surviving on Pitta bread, it is far less exhausting than constant cooking.

Now however, everyday involves chopping, stirring and standing by the cooker. At least in the UK, you can take yourself off to your local Tesco and use the pre-prepared food aisles to save yourself the bother 100% of the time. Convenience food, apart from Pizzas, the odd lasagne and beige food, does not exist in France the way it does in the UK.

The view from our temporary abpde is pas mal…

One bright light in all of this madness however, is that my very lovely friends have lent me their chalet to stay in for a couple of weeks. It is so nice to just be able to open the doors and let the dog and the child out, without having to get fully attired and traipse them to the field.  I am also enjoying the peace and tranquillity, as I am sure my neighbours in the apartment are! 

‘Active Treatment’…over and out…

I have also, finally finished ‘active treatment’, that is to say my radiotherapy finished. Yay!  It was a weird feeling, because much as there was something to celebrate, there was no-one to celebrate with.  All plans of going for a night out, or getting a recuperation holiday booked, are on hold, so instead I celebrated with a lemon tart from the supermarket. 

Nevertheless, it was a day that seemed to be a long way off last August, when, far from the original plan of having a lumpectomy and some radiotherapy, I discovered that the full gamut of breast cancer treatment was to be thrown at me. 

Hello, Moody Tuesday

I now have to start taking Tamoxifen for the next five years, an oestrogen supressing drug. Tamoxifen attaches itself to any remaining cancer cells, rather than allowing oestrogen to do so. In theory, this reduces the chances of oestogen-receptive breast cancer coming back again.  Some women breeze through Tamoxifen, others have horrendous size effects including mood swings (please God no more of those!), weight gain and bone pain amongst others. 

As with the whole of this expedition, you just have to take it one day at a time- hope for the best, but deal with the worst.  Until next time… 

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