A bit of a shite year

As it's New Year's Eve eve, I thought i would reflect a bit on the past year. I've just got out of bed. I've spent the majority of the Christmas break in bed, suffering from tax aches and pains but mostly from awful fatigue. I don't seem to have to do much at all to need to have two hour naps to recover. I'm quite useless and not good at much at the moment, but my ability to sleep is unparallelled. I've put on a stone in weight since my treatment began, partly due to steroids and other drugs, but mostly because I've not been able to exercise anywhere near as much as I was before my treatment started. I tried to run as much as I could during FEC, but once Docetaxel started it walloped me. Now I can only manage one to two mile runs, which then leave me needed to sleep for two hours and aching like I've been inside a washing machine.

Anyway, as the title of this post suggests, this year has been a bit of an arse. I split up with my long term boyfriend, my grandmother died and then I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Triple arse. It's hard to believe that my diagnosis was over five months ago. It seems such a long time ago, but at the same time only yesterday. I've almost forgotten what life was like BC (Before Cancer). I've been picked up and swept along on the cancer tsunami and have now been deposited on the beach picking over the remnants of my life. But although a large part of my treatment is over, there is still a long way to go. I've just been allowed a little respite before the second wave comes to give me a bashing. 

So much has happened in the last five months, it's difficult to quantify it all. But I will try. Here it is:

3 biopsies
3 mammograms
4 ultrasounds 
15 blood tests
1 clip fitting
2 radioactive injections
1 general anaesthetic
1 surgery
2 head shaves
Multiple wig fittings
1 bone scan
6 toxic infusions
7 oncologist appointments
3 surgeon appointments
1 genetic testing appointment
3 late night visits to A and E
1 overnight stay in hospital
8 cannulas
7 lots of test / scan results
1 chest x-ray
3 MRSA swabs
1 arm ultrasound
6 lots of steroids and anti sickness treatments
21 lots of injecting myself
A truck load of other meds
1 flu jab
Several sore and collapsed veins
1 large seroma
1 lot of painful under arm cording 

Plus lots of sleepless nights, bad dreams and tears. There's no wonder I'm knackered all the time! But I don't want to finish this post leaving you thinking its been all bad, because it hasn't. Amongst the tears and bad dreams, there has surprisingly been a lot of laughter too. I've reconnected with old friends and made some brilliant new ones through the Younger Breast Cancer Network. In fact, I'm spending tomorrow night with some of them and I can't think of a more fitting end to this year. I know we'll all be putting a massive two fingers up to the back of 2014!

Younger women with breast cancer - Sarah M's story

The last featured story on my blog as part of this year's Breast Cancer Awareness month is from Sarah M, aged 38:

'On 20th May, aged 38 I found a lump in my left breast , felt by my inner arm, through a padded bra as I was getting into the car.  I straight away touched it with my hand and knew this was something serious that required immediate attention. I panicked realising that since the beginning of 2014, possibly longer I had unintentionally ignored all the signs that this could indeed be breast cancer.

The first sign I had was tenderness in the breast. I had been cupping my breast as I ran up and down the stairs because the movement was making it hurt ( they are only small too, a humble 34B at a push ). I was also aware that for a long time I was repeatedly saying "mind my boobs " to my little boy as we cuddled up. With him on my left side, when he leant into it there was more tenderness than usual. I subconsciously put this down to hormonal changes in my menstrual cycle. I suffered intense itching  around my nipple on and off for ages , possibly as early as mid 2013. Having suffered with itchy skin all over my body since I was a teenager I thought no more of it other than itchy skin.

I had a dull ache for a few months in my left armpit. I put this down to the physical side of my job moving and positioning vulnerable (some very heavy) adults and assumed it was muscle strain.

In Nov. 2013 I completed a course with South Central Ambulance, part of which was using heart monitors. We measured our own heart rates and mine was particularly high. The paramedic training me advised I get this checked which I did. I was tested for diabetes , thyroid problems , blood pressure and a couple of other illnesses that I fail to remember. All tests came back clear, although I just felt something wasn't right with my body . I ached more than usual and tired a lot more easily than I ever had.

Mentally I found I was becoming increasingly short tempered, emotional and anxious ( this could explain the rapid heart rate). I felt something wasn't right, that a change was needed and the fact that my periods were becoming irregular I began to think, and even said to my husband Paul, that I was having an early menopause .

Then a couple of months before finding the lump , Paul came home and gave me a copy of The Sun Newspapers Check 'Em Tuesday guide. He asked me if I checked my boobs to which I flippantly replied " No, I am too scared too in case I find a lump", what a ridiculous comment to have made.  It did however prompt me to check and when I checked properly I did feel the lump there. Yet again I ignored it , comparing to my other breast I just put it down to hormones, how stupid am I.

The final sign, I will always believe was a sign from a higher state of consciousness telling me to sort myself out.  In the space of ten seconds I had three short sharp stabbing pains which I can only describe as somebody ramming a knitting needle down into my breast , behind the nipple and pointing straight to where the lump was.  ( Ladies reading, this is a sign of some types of breast cancer but not the cancer I had or so I am told ). It only happened in those 10 seconds, on that day and never happened again neither had it happened before. Two days later I found the lump.

I didn't phone the doctor straight away as I knew I would be seen the next day and I had an event at the children's school to attend. I wanted to be there for them both and certainly didn't want to have to explain my absence to them or anyone else for that matter.

Two days later I was seen by a female GP who confirmed there was a definite lump , that had been there sometime, which she thought was a cyst. She said she had known of hard cysts before and if it was cancer I would of been seriously ill by now. Rubbish!!!!   I don't know who she was trying to convince, me or herself but I knew this was not presenting as a cyst.  I was referred there and then to Wycombe Breast Clinic.

I went home and Googled every single benign breast condition and their symptoms, resulting in yet more self diagnosis that what I had was serious. I just knew it was cancer.

Two weeks later ( the governments policy for being seen after visiting the GP ) myself and Paul attended the clinic where I was given an ultra sound scan to both breasts , followed immediately by a core needle biopsy, (possibly the second worst experience of my life, chemotherapy coming first by miles!!). I was then seen by one of the doctors in the consultants team. She confirmed that the lump was indeed suspicious and regardless of the outcome from the biopsy I would require an operation to have it removed.

One week later, Thursday 12th June ,another trip to the clinic for the results. After a two and a half hour wait ( these places are pushed to the limit ) a breast care nurse  called us through to see the main man, the consultant heading the clinic, Mr Cunnick. I knew straight away that the top breast surgeon in South Bucks NHS trust ( yep I Googled him too ) was not about to tell me I had a cyst  or anything else benign.  I wasn't even sat down as I was more concerned for Paul, when Mr Cunnick bluntly informed me what I already knew. I had Breast Cancer, no sorry or unfortunately, just, it's cancer,  invasive ductal carcinoma, 8/8 oestrogen positive and receptive to Herceptin. He briefly examined me then explained he would be carrying out my operation. I asked  him to remove both breasts, in fact what I said was " just take the whole boob off and whilst you are at it take the other one as well" but he said it was totally unnecessary and that a lumpectomy would be ample and he would hopefully save my nipple as well. He told me it was not genetic although this is a test I will be fighting for as it must start somewhere.  I then had a mammogram to both breasts and underarm and Mr Cunnick gave the results straight away.  The right breast was clear and as far as he could see there was no lymph node involvement. He explained this was the best type of breast cancer I could have if there ever was a best type and that it was all fully treatable. He told me I would more than likely have chemotherapy, radiotherapy , Herceptin and ten years of Tamoxifen pills . Despite his bluntness and the fact he was telling me I had cancer I really liked him, I trusted him and loved how he knew his job so well.

Five weeks later I had my lumpectomy and a sentinel lymph node biopsy where radioactive dye is injected into the breast and travels to the lymph nodes showing any cancer cells present.  Unfortunately there was metastatic cancer cells in the first  lymph node which was removed along with the second.

After a further two week wait it was back to the clinic for my results. This time the wait was four hours. So at 7:30pm we were informed  all the tumour had been removed with clear margins and the next step would be to see an oncologist who would explain the further treatment required. I thought he could have saved a lot of time by telephoning me with the results.

 

I am now two weeks past my second lot of  FEC chemotherapy. I have a further four to endure. I will then have a month off and start radiotherapy every weekday for 4four and a half weeks at a hospital a fifty mile round trek from where I live. I will have Herceptin by infusion every three weeks at the chemo unit and Tamoxifen pills for 10 years.  It is the worst time of my life right now, but I have to stay positive and strong for my husband, children, family and friends, I am very aware that it is not just me this has affected . I feel lucky a lot of the time that it is not a whole lot worse. I feel sad that so many women a lot younger than me are suffering this .

My tumour had been there for six months.

Had I not ignored all the early signs or been more informed as to what they indicated maybe life would be different now and I would not be dealing with chemotherapy. Consequently had the lump not physically presented itself or indeed grown inward ..................well, I dread to think. That is why it is so important to check yourself regularly and act quickly if you notice any changes. Remember that no one is too young to get breast cancer.'

Younger women with breast cancer - Andrea's story

Today's featured story about diagnosis, treatment and being breast aware is from Andrea, aged 39. Andrea is a make up artist undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer and has created a you Tube channel called Baldy Beautiful, full of make tutorials to help us chemo baldy birds feel better about ourselves! Oh, and they are also good for non baldy ones too ;-) You can find Angela's channel here .


Andrea also has a Facebook page which you can find here . You can also follow her on Twitter  - @Baldlybeautiful.


'Straight after Christmas 2013 I decided that after being a lazy bitch for a year and letting myself go a bit - after a car accident which kinda left me a bit scared to exercise in case I hurt my back more - enough was enough and that in one years time (Jan 2015) I would be 40 and there was only one way I intended to be for my fabulous party - fit and frickin fabulous. I got straight back into an exercise and healthy eating routine and the weight dropped off and I was back to my slinky self by May/June, as well wanting to super slinky I decided i wanted hair as long as possible for my party and had successfully got it to half way down my back. I was very pleased with myself!

One morning after one of my 'Hannah Waterman DVD' workouts - which are quite tough I might add, lots of jumping jacks/burpees/pushups and planks, I jumped in the shower and was planning on taking my daughter up to oxford street to forever 21 as she was desperate to see what it was all about (all the teen bloggers she follows on youtube shop in forever 21 don't' you know!) So I'm in the shower just soaping up to wash under my arms and boobs and I felt a bone sticking out, literally it was so big it felt like a bone, I was confused, had I injured myself whilst doing all those burpees? had I broken something, I felt it again, no it wasn't a bone, what was it? a lump? but it cant be, I would have felt it before, it certainly wasn't there yesterday or the day before. Panic started to rise and I felt the tears streaming down my face under the water of the hot shower. It just couldn't be, I would check again once I was out of the shower and dry. So I dried myself off and felt again, there it was, still there. I phoned the doctors surgery straight away and burst out crying on the phone to the receptionist! She told me to calm down and that it was probably fine but I got booked in for the next morning with a female doctor. Unfortunately I couldn't go in straight away because the only female doctors in that day were locums and they didn't want me to see a locum, fair enough but the stress of having to wait a day was awful. I debated on whether to tell my husband or not and for a while I really thought I would just go on my own so as not to worry him but in the end I burst out crying and told him I had found a lump. He thought I had probably just pulled something whilst exercising considering I hadn't felt it before and I started to think he was probably right.

Next day the GP examined me and said she could feel the lump and that it was 'fully mobile' which is a good sign but said she would hate to miss anything (funny enough two nurses and a receptionist at the surgery have all recently had breast cancer) so booked me an appointment for the breast clinic at the hospital the following week. Another agonising week of waiting until the appointment.

At the hospital  I was examined by one of the breast doctors, an old American guy who looked like 'face' from the A-team! He sent me down to have an ultrasound. The ultrasound ladies told me that it was a fatty lump of tissue but to be on the safe side wanted to do a biopsy, they called a doctor in to do it who from her actions was quite reluctant and even question the ultrasound lady, this doctor assured me it was a fatty lump, told me the name of it and told me to Google it and what it meant! Meanwhile the ultrasound lady was insistent they do the biopsy just to rule anything out and so they did and off i went in pain from the biopsy but extremely hopeful that it was just a fatty lump, after all the doctor was quite sure that it was so it must be mustn't it?

Finally the 2 week 4 day wait for the results of the biopsy was over and sitting in the waiting room waiting for my turn I felt very sick. Ladies going in coming out smiling, ladies going in coming out looking shell shocked. Ladies who obviously had cancer, with wigs and scarfs on....I wanted to be anywhere but there. I turned to my husband after an hour of waiting (they were running late....all that bad news I expect) and told him I felt sick. Why? he says, whilst playing on his phone, totally oblivious to what was going on around him and that fact that the results could ever be anything other than negative.

So i get called in, sit down, doctor shuffles about with her papers......'so' she says....'your here for the results of the biopsy you had two and a bit weeks ago, and the results of the biopsy show that the lump is cancerous........and she just carried on talking and talking.............I felt my mouth open, you know in cartoons when the dogs jaw opens and hits the ground and its tongue falls out? well that's how I felt, like my tongue was hanging out of my mouth and my head was saying 'say what?' For a few seconds I couldn't look at my hubby and then I looked at him and he was looking at me with the same expression on his face and I knew this was real. All I could hear was Robodoc (that's what we later named her) going on about how great it was that I was her2 positive - what the hell? positive what? because I was going to get herceptin!!! She told me this like i had won the lottery...the next bit II heard was chemo....hair going to fall out....but you will get a wig...... my head was spinning, what the hell was this doctor telling me? I have breast cancer, I am her2 positive, I am having chemo, a drug called herceptin and the hair I have grown all year for my party is going to fall out??!!!! WTF?!!!!!

Next thing I know I am off to get mammograms done to recheck the lumpy breast and check the 'good' breast, 9 mammograms on the bad breast and 2 on the good breast later I am out of there and back in Robodocs office with Anna the breast care nurse. I then get told I am going for MRIs as something else has shown up in the 'bad' breast, this turned out to be 4mm DCIS and booking my appointment with the oncologist. I left there with my head spinning and piece of paper with my diagnosis which I didn't fully understand at the time and just knowing that in a week and a half I would be seeing my oncologist - I didn't even know what that was but I was guessing it was the doctor in charge of looking after me.

So off we went home, crying our eyes out at the news in disbelief that I a 39 year old mother of two aged 9 and 13 (now 14) who was super fit and healthy and just about to book a summer holiday without a care in the world looking forward to being super sexy at her 40th birthday party in January had cancer.

My poor hubby had to make the calls to my mum and dad, brother and auntie to let them know as I hadn't told them - didn't see the point -  I was told it was a fatty lump! what's the point in worrying everyone???? I had to call my two best friends as they knew something was wrong when I took time off work (boob really hurt after biopsy) as I never have time off and I didn't look ill to them so they managed to get it out of me. I had about ten missed calls and messages from each of them so had to make those calls and well, they ended up hysterical and crying and I had to tell them to calm down!

The week that followed was a blur, the family and my two besties Anna and Emma round almost every day, a lot of crying and a lot of laughing once we'd got our heads round it - still it didn't seem real and to be honest it still doesn't. I still don't believe that I have cancer, and when I catch my reflection in the mirror and see that bald head sometimes i forget and get a shock...

The few weeks that followed until chemo started were full of hospitals and tests, mri's, ct scans, oncologist appointments - who I might add is amazing and one of the leading breast cancer specialists in the country so I am very lucky to be under his care. more ultrasounds, biopsies, blood tests, picc line fitted, tour of the chemo unit.....and it just goes on...for someone that has never been in hospital other than tonsils out and giving birth twice all this hospitals and being sick malarkey was all new to me and i hated it and still do.

I am now half way through chemo and not doing too bad, I have high energy days and very low energy days, days of feeling happy and okay and days of feeling like the most miserable bitch in the whole world and days when I look at myself and think who is this alien, this bland looking person, this head, this thing that has taken over Andrea. And other days I slap my warpaint on and become Baldly Beautiful the image I have created to keep me going. When I was first diagnosed my husband said I should put my makeup skills (I am a fully qualified makeup artist) to good use and help other ladies like me going through chemo feel better about themselves, I poo pooed the idea but once treatment started I realised that he was right, I could help so many ladies and if I could help just one or two people feel good it would be worth it, so I decided to set up my own youtube channel and  do makeup tutorials for ladies going through chemo or finished chemo that were having to deal with the same beauty problems I would be and they could follow me on my journey. So far the response has been more than I could hope for especially from all the girls on the YBCN! I have received so many messages from people and not just from the UK from across the world saying how my tutorials have really helped and inspired them, which makes it so worth while, so at least while I am off work and going through the worst time of my life I know I am helping others feel good about themselves which makes me feel a tiny bit better.

At the end of the day this shit can happen to anyone, nobody is immune, nobody is too young or too old and it can happen when you least expect it. The moral of story is check your boobs, know what feels right and what doesn't, My lump seemed to appear out of nowhere, I did ask the doctors how did this happen? it wasn't there the day before or the day before that, did I strain something whilst exercising is that what made it pop out? is it because I lost weight and my boobs got smaller? They said the lump had been there a while as it was grade 2 but still caught quite early and was probably pushed to the surface when I came on and my boobs became lumpier and more tender than normal (I did come on a week after finding the lump) who knows how or why I just know that I was lucky that it did pop out from where it was hiding and I felt it and it was obviously there, had it not I probably would never have found it as I was guilty of not checking my boobs regularly at all and when I did it was just a quick what I would call 'rummage around'. At the end of the day no matter how young or old you are, check those boobies and check them regularly, it could save your life!

Oh and in case you are wondering, the 40th birthday party has been postponed to the summer when I will have a joint one with my hubby, I wont have hair half way down my back but at least I will have a bit of hair by then hopefully, be cancer free and looking and feeling fabulous. Not looking how I expected or would have wanted to look with short hair and maybe minus a boob but at least I will be here and be alive and that's all I can hope for and at this moment in time its something I can look forward to, reaching a goal in my life that I just assumed would happen, now its something I am fighting to achieve, for me, my kids, my husband and my family.'

Node Nonsense

N.B: This post was written in August

So as I’m having chemotherapy before my surgery, they need to take out a few of the nodes closest to the breast to check for cancer spread (eeek). This is called a sentinel lymph node biopsy. If was having surgery first they would remove these nodes at the same time. The word biopsy gave me a false sense of security that made me think it would be a half hour job like the biopsy on my breast lump and off I trot. Wrong.

I was planning to try and have a small holiday before it all kicked off, however when the softly spoken consultant told me I’d need to have an op three days after the appointment I had with her, that put paid to that. It’s a day case op with a general anaesthetic where they cut through muscle and nerves under your arm to get to the nodes, remove them and examine them under a microscope. Not quite the biopsy I had in mind.

So the day of the op I had to be there at 7.30am even though I wasn’t being operated on until the afternoon. The highlight of my morning was having to go and have a radioactive substance injected in to my boob which really bloody hurt! And it didn’t turn me in to Spiderman either. Bah!

At least I had a bed allocated which means somehow I managed to drop off for half an hour but then spent the rest of the morning getting progressively more anxious. I have a real fear of general anaesthetic. The time spent waiting to be operated on compounded this fear so by the time they came to get me I was in such a state I almost made a run for it. Wouldn’t have been the best in my sexy hospital gown and paper knickers.

When you’re under the anaesthetic, they inject a blue dye in to the breast (yes, yet another injection in to my boob) which along with the radioactive substance injected earlier, helps them to trace the nodes they need to take out. One of the side effects of this blue dye is that it leaves you with a fetching grey tinge for a few hours after the op, but also with smurf-like wee that looks like blue WKD for a few days. Not that I’m a fan a WKD anyway, but don’t think I will look at the stuff in quite the same way again. For the few days after the op I had an overwhelming urge to take a photo of my wee and send it to people, so impressed was I, however I thought it might be bridge too far. The dye also leaves you with an area of blue stain on the breast – a blue tit! Boom, boom.

Anyway, they took four nodes out so now is just the wait for the results.  A regular feature at present!

Update - September

So apparently when you remove even a few nodes, the fluid that would have been passing through them has a bit of a panic and doesn’t know where to go so kind of hangs around. So I have what is called a ‘seroma’ the size of a tennis ball under my arm. Yey! With a gnarly scar across it. Pretty. Nurses wouldn’t go anywhere near it with a needle in case it got infected and delayed the start of my chemotherapy so I have to wait for it to ‘re-absorb’. It’s bloody painful! Especially when I had to go for yet another biopsy and boob squash. Not the most pleasant experience I can tell you!