• Health

    Week 9- keep that dripfeed coming…

    Week 9- keep that dripfeed coming… Week 9 started off with a follow-up consultation with my surgeon. It was all a little bit ad-hoc, with my notes still written on paper, given that the latest biopsy results had only just come through.  Surgery all went well, he examined my non-boob and looked very pleased with his surgery.  The was however, a teeny, tiny problem.  There was a bit more cancer than they had anticipated.  When they took off my boob, what they had thought to be three cancerous lumps had turned out to be four.  In addition, the dreaded lymph nodes had decided to rear their little lymphy heads and…

  • Health

    Week 12- Things Can Only Get Better…

    I wonder whatever happened to D’ream?  That was a song and a half- the theme song of a new Labour government in 1997…if only we knew then what we know now… but I digress… After having all my lymph nodes removed, I then had a week of recovery before returning to see my consultant to get yet another updated diagnosis based on the results of this latest surgery. Oh when the cancer marches on… The results were that yet more cancer had been found in two more lymph nodes.  Ho hum. It may sound bizarre, but I was quite pleased about this in a very bizarre way.  It meant that…

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    Week 13- ‘The Shining’

    Week 13 involved my first trip to the Chemotherapy hospital.  For anyone who has ever seen the movie The Shining, think of that hospital and you will have a good idea of what the local Chemotherapy hospital here looks like.  I have never seen the entire movie, but I do believe this building probably gives it a good run for its’ money. It is up a long winding road in the mountains and was originally a Sanatorium.  It still is to a degree, with many patients who are having chemotherapy every day choosing to stay there whilst they have it. I had another lovely friend drive me there, and she,…

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    Week 14- 12 Rounds with Mike Tyson

    ‘Chemotherapy week’ (it sounds as if it will be as exciting as ‘Big Cat Week’ on the BBC, but believe me, it is not), started with a huuuge trip to the pharmacy on Friday.  I had four different prescriptions in total. An anaesthetic patch to numb the port that I had put in at my last surgery- (a way to administer tons and tons of drugs without wrecking every vein in your body- I am surprised that addicts haven’t caught on to the idea),  big anti-nausea drugs, more anti-nausea drugs and an injection for the day after chemotherapy to get my white blood count back up because this takes a…

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    Week 15- vaguely human, but skint!…

    The second week ‘post-chemo’ was better. It was still difficult to gauge when you would feel alright and when you would feel as if you could just crawl into bed and not come out, but it was hugely better than the nausea and puking of the previous week.  I got to the point where if I had been a shrub I would have been called perennially tired. The feeling of not knowing as and when your always reliable body would let you down was something that I knew it would be difficult to come to terms with and was no doubt going to be one of the true tests of…

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    Week 16…I have turned into a 15 year old boy….

    My third week post first chemo treatment (again- treatment…really? A treatment is when you go to Champneys for the day and have a wonderful massage from 18 year-old Honey Bee whose eyebrows would give Limax maximus a run for their money), was a slight return to normality. I say slight, because, although I looked relatively normal on the outside (hair was still clinging on for dear life), on the inside, it seemed to be a slightly different matter. Humdinger… Firstly, I began to stink.  Yes, there, I have said it, I had turned into that 15 year old boy who hides away in his black-walled room, only emerging on Saturdays…