Welcome to the c word

I rarely show the world what is going on inside it is just not my style. I hide pain and constantly worry about worrying other people and how they will feel about how I am feeling. I keep my problems to myself and sometimes even from my closest friends. Well not this time.

I have been on the c word roller-coaster (I'm calling it the c word to go easy on the faint hearted) for over three weeks now and have decided it is a good idea to write down what's happened, happening and going to happen then whoever wants to keep up to date can without being forced to hear about it through emails from me. Because you will all have days where you just can't or don't want to hear about this. I get that it’s ok.

I hope not but you also might meet people or know people who go through something similar and it might just help them in some way to know they are not alone and when they fall apart it is ok because who wouldn’t. When you read this please forgive grammar and spelling etc I have not slept for three days and sorry too if it is up and down that is pretty much how I am doing most days.

- Tuesday 23rd February 2010

Thursday, 4 March 2010


So there I stood in Kensington in a haze of busy pedestrians cars and buses sickness filled my stomach and tears flooded my cheeks. It had been a rough day.

It had been a rough day not because I found out anything worse than I already knew but more because I had sat in so many different waiting rooms holding it together since we arrived 5 hours before while different people told me different news some containing words like 'life threatening' and 'incurable' and others said nothing at all which was sort of worse. So, details before you explode with apprehension. I am booked in officially for 23rd March (unless an earlier date comes free) to have an operation in London. I have to arrive the day before and have an injection that is called nuclear something something. I got lost after they said the word nuclear. So it's essentially radiation injected into me. It works to help the surgeon trace the nodes (armpit gland things) so he can get a sample of them to test for cancerous cells. But it not always works, so if not he has to use a blue dye to trace them instead that hmm turns out is 'in rare cases life threatening'. What? So let me get this straight I already have one life threatening thing inside me and you want to put another one in. Go on, sure, why not! Fuck. But yeah yeah it might not happen. You see being a rare case already makes you question if you have luck on your side, so when they say in rare cases this dye reaction happens you freeze, you feel sick.
They couldn't tell me an answer to the big question; Do I need actually need chemo? They cant tell you that until they go in and see what is there and test the area.

If I am super lucky, fingers crossed I am, it could work like this: First the operation, they remove lump and gland sample from my armpit (they are called lymph nodes like some cool mythical creature). Then while I am under general anaesthetic they test the nodes and if they are clear at that point they won't take anything more. I come round and will be let out of hospital relatively fast and recover for four weeks, of no housework or lifting, before treatment which will still be chemo probably but maybe maybe, fingers crossed so hard, just radiotherapy if it is feasible and the cancer is small enough.

IF I AM UNLUCKY they test the glands and find cancerous cells they go back in and take more tissue and glands away and I won't know till I wake up and then I am in hospital for 3-5 days and longer recovery expected and definitely chemo. Followed by radiotherapy too.

Radiotherapy turns out to be pretty damn shit too not quite so bad as chemo but still horrible and all the while I was believing I need chemo I had not even given any thought to radiotherapy. Especially after Phil said oh they just force you to listen to Heart fm 102.4 for hours which is bad but you'll get through it.
Radiotherapy is far from fun I will have a red sore burnt patch where treated area is (treated is not the word I would use) which ages the skin and leaves the area solid, so over time my breasts will appear lopsided. I don't know what to say other than to me there is nothing funny about it at all. It makes you sick very sick and I will have a prolonged time in hospital rather than 3 weekly visits. and although they have to tell you the raw truth there is a chance with radiotherapy that it effects the organs underneath and I will leave you to figure out the rest. So essentially they will tell me after a 10 day wait post operation that my not too distant future is either really shit or just plain shit. But you know me, I will be ok whatever happens. and I have convinced myself that having bigger boobs has got to help as there is more tissue to protect the organs surely so yay for big boobs today.

Oh and the other news is that you can get an incurable infection that swells up your arm after the op. yay. piss.

First night on my own tonight, no Phil. So wine. friends. film. cake.

ooh and I had my first ECG yesterday, which was all fine in the end when I calmed down, in a pre operation assessment and I totally bonded in my head with ET because the only time I had seen that many wires attached to anyone was during that film.

ET and me, we relate.

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