Thursday 30 August 2012

A weeks worth of news


I am writing this from one of my favourite café’s in Ducatilad land where I am enjoying a few days of pampering and restoring with Ducatilad

There has been a lot going on in  the last week.

As I wrote in my last instalment I was very much looking forward to celebrating S’s 21st birthday. It was a welcome distraction and a reminder that milestones are important to mark and the joy of sharing it with people you love.

The weekend of celebration for S’s 21st allowed me to be just P, and not P with cancer. I can honestly say as I was standing at the bar, dressed in my Belle (as in Belle from Beauty and the Beast), costume that really needed a cleavage to hold it up, sharing pancakes, cowboys and the odd vodka shot I forgot that I had no boobs and that a little over 4 weeks before I was lying in hospital. This is the amazing capacity of the human brain to compartmentalise things and the power of alcohol to help you forget. Please no tutt tutting about that statement and let me clarify it was the cancer I forgot not the party.

There was a bit of a feeling of deja vu with S’s birthday and my cancer. At S’s sixth birthday I had only very recently finished my 6 weeks of radiotherapy for my first breast cancer. At the start of the radiotherapy I was marked up with gentian violet (like purple texta) so that they could blast me in just the right spot. (Seems they didn’t do a very good job as the f**cking thing came back). 

For some reason S hated these marks. At that stage the only thing I could promise her was that they would be gone by her 6th birthday. They were, we had a great birthday party and I looked resplendent in my Snow White costume.

Fast-forward 15 years and there I was 4 weeks post surgery for a second breast cancer, looking equally resplendent in my Belle costume.  

Just wish I could have promised her this time that we were over the treatment.

At the risk of veering into the TMI (too much information) lane, but delivering on my promise to be honest about my experiences, I wish to let it be known that having no boobs has had absolutely no impact on Ducatilad’s normal responses to me after not seeing me for a while.  And the same can be said for me. I feel attractive, loved and desired. (Ok I did leave my camisole on the first time)
The biggest step was being seen in the shower and you know what? That was OK too.  And this morning I simply wandered around as I always do – naked. (Apologies if that is an image that most of you don’t need).  

He promised me it wouldn’t make any difference and he was, as always, true to his word.

OK so now that I have made you all read about 21st Birthdays and my sex life I guess what you want to know is where are we up to with the oncologist and further treatment?

First up I should say that I was really impressed with A/Prof E. She was honest, patient and most of all was interested in me as a whole person, not just my cancer. Given my work, it is so encouraging to have a medical practitioner ask me about what psychosocial support I had, how my children were doing and what financial stress this may or may not cause me.

However the shock of the news that the she delivered to me last Thursday regarding the real possibility of having to have chemo did do my head in a bit.  (OK that is actually a really really huge understatement)

And of course there was lots of information given.

But fortunately trusted Na came with me to that visit and produced a comprehensive summary of the appointment which was enormously helpful in getting my head around it.

The main points were that given my pathology results, the fact that they think this cancer is a recurrence and that there is a risk of me getting another cancer the default position of the oncologist was to recommend giving me chemo.

Now chemo doesn’t work for everyone in reducing the risk of cells going feral and causing another cancer. The issue is that it is not easy to work out who will actually benefit so they tend to blanket bomb everyone to make sure those that do benefit will.

There is a test that is now being used widely in the States that can give oncologists a better indication of whether chemo will in fact benefit women like me in reducing their risk of getting a recurrence. Essentially it is a risk predictor tool that looks at the genes of the tumour to predict how likely they are to end up somewhere else (this is a very lay persons explanation)

My oncologist (so now there is my hairdresser, my beautician, my  therapist…) has been using this test and she trusts the robustness of it.
So while her default position was to recommend chemo – if we didn’t have access to the test, the test would give her more information and know that it in fact would be of benefit.

The  test isn’t covered here and it is costs more than a louis vuitton bag , a chin augmentation or a double mastectomy.

Cost isn’t the issue but the concern was that we would do the test, pay the money and then still be having chemo.

But if I am going to submit myself to 6 rounds of the equivalent of crop dusting, loose my hair, my eyebrows, eyelashes and feel like shit for 18 weeks then I guess we want to know that it is at least going to benefit me.

The upshot is that I have agreed to the test.  I don’t have to do anything. They take a small sample of the tumour and send it away to do the testing. That was done last Monday.

So now it is just a matter of waiting for the results. Not an easy space to be in as I can’t really plan for much as I don’t know what I will be dealing with. Again I am trying not to engage with it until I have to.


 However I have started on the hormone therapy, which we know, will be of benefit as my tumour was very hormone receptor positive. This means it needs female hormones to grow and reproduce. Hormone therapy works by stopping oestrogen from 'feeding' the breast cancer cells.

This involves taking a little white tablet once a day for 5 years. Not a big deal and I am hoping that I avoid any of the reported side effects like growing a small penis, facial hair and an attraction to women.*


It does all seem a bit surreal – every so often I have this urge to shake me head and go Whoa I have had cancer a second time. That is just so bizarre. Especially as I am now feeling and looking (if may say so myself) pretty good.  

In the meantime I could get very used to this life of writing in café’s and being pampered.

I intend to enjoy this time as it may all come to a bald, nauseas halt in about 3 weeks.

Well I think I have brought you up to date. Yes there has been a lot more emotional processing, which I will write about when I run out of actual news.

I can now stop beating up on myself for taking so long to write this. I know, cancer is supposed to make me stop placing all these expectations on myself, go with with flow, do what feels right, be zen and sit in the lotus position for hours on end. I am trying, honestly I am.

I remember last time waiting for the bolt to come down and hit me with all the answers to the meaning of life and a transformation to take place. It never really happened. 

This time though I think I might just wait a little longer, listen a little more closely and do things a little differently.

Because there are only two times in life - now and too late**

As always

P xx

* no surprises that these are not actually documented side effects
** this is not original but one of my favourite lines from Anh Do's book "The Happiest Refugee." Highly recommended reading.

Thursday 23 August 2012

6 line upate

I am in the usual state of exhaustion this late at night. Can't ever seem to get this written early. But I known that some of you are waiting for an update.

Yes I saw the medical oncologist this afternoon. 
No I wasn't expecting to be told what I was.
Yes there is the possibility ( in fact quite a big one) that I have to have chemo
No the final decision hasn't been made
Yes there is some more information that I may be able to access to help make that decision
No I am not going to go into more details

For the next few days I will be processing the information in order to make the decision that is best for me.

All this will be in the background as I have a big joyful weekend. It is S's 21st. And that is  the priority.

Ducatilad arrives tomorrow, S arrives on Saturday morning and by Saturday night we will all be dressed in 90's icon outfits celebrating in style. I am still trying to find a breastless icon.

So that is all there is for now.   Ok a few more than 6 lines.

Apologies if this has left people hanging - guess you will have to check back. One way to keep those page views going up. (think the fact that boob is in the title ensures some increased traffic)

So until then I am as always


P xx






Wednesday 22 August 2012

One month on

Hard to believe that 4 weeks ago I was aware that I had no breasts but couldn't bring myself to look at it, was relying on painkillers to get me through, had 2 drains, 2 IV cannulas, oxygen prongs up my nose, disposable undies up my bum and not sure how I was even going to make it to the loo.  

And here I am now almost pain free, able to look at myself in the mirror and kind of feel OK with it, driving, starting back at work, looking like nothing has happened but still with the occasional undie up my bum.

Feeling quite exhausted tonight. A combination of not sleeping all that well last night -  the lovely menopausal hot flushes have decided to visit again, a late night writing  text for N's HSC Visual Art major work and no Nana nap. 

Finding getting my head back into work  a little more difficult than I expected. Feels like I am in work la la land. ( have no idea where that came from ).  I'm pretty much an all or nothing sort of person, so this dabbling with my work is a bit of a challenge. Sort of back but not. And I get tired. Guess it will take a little while to navigate my way back. 

But as predicted the delete  button did get a good workout yesterday as I tackled my in box.

 Amazing how life just goes on whether you answer your emails  or not.

Tomorrow is the appointment with the medical oncologist to look at options regarding further treatment.  The big question will be whether poisoning my whole body is going to make a significant difference to preventing some rogue cancer cell going feral somewhere else in my body. I think that's an accurate reinterpretation of the  medical stuff I have read in preparation.  

It will be good to get a decision made. Whatever that may be.

I promised Ducatilad that I would have an earlier night so am afraid this is all I have to offer one month on from the day that so much, yet so little,* changed because

I am as always

P xx
* not sure about the use of those commas

Monday 20 August 2012

Easing back in

Well this morning I got up and prepared myself to go into work for the first time.

A little hesitantly I chose a regular work outfit as opposed to long sleeved T's, cardigans and jeans, not sure how it would sit on my new shape. 
Whilst I didn't fill out the top of my dress like I used to I am pleased to say, after a bit of makeup and some lippy I think I looked pretty good and certainly not like someone who has recently had a double mastectomy. 

Those who know me will attest to the fact that I have never been a wearer of outfits that show a lot of cleavage ( mainly because my 688g of breasts didn't give me one) or big boob flasher ( except that time when I was in my early 20's which we wont talk about) and  so I think that most of my clothes are going to be OK  and the difference not that noticeable.

It felt a little strange walking in through the entrance. I know that all of my team and my Division know where I have been, but I am not certain who else knows. I have no issue with people knowing but as often happens you have to deal with their uncomfortableness. 

I didn't actually do any work while I was there, except get my laptop set up so that I can start to work from home. I did talk to quite a few people, let's call that consulting to make it look legit. I also attended a thank you morning tea for staff and volunteers who are part of the organisations new marketing campaign. 

 In another serendipitous connection I actually appear in the commercial. At the time of filming I think I knew that I had the lump, but certainly didn't think it was of real concern. Funny how my first day back at work  had me sitting watching myself being part of publicly promoting the work that we do. 
Now I have to confess here that despite the almost hour and a half of filming that they did, I actually only appear for about 3 seconds - but what what a fantastic  3 seconds they are.

In one of those  "I  feel like sharing my story" moments I did chat to the producer and tell him that it all had a much closer connection for me now, given that in the time since filming I had been diagnosed and operated on. Yes he was shocked and also amazed at how well I look.

What I am starting to notice is that once people know that  I have had a double mastectomy, they do do this funny sort of furtive glance down towards my chest.  Kind of the reverse of having people perve at your tits ( not that I had had a lot of that happening in the past 10 or so years) 
In an ambush moment I may just be tempted to flash. Don't say you weren't warned!

By about 12 o'cock I was ready to go home. I am still surprised at how tired I get when I am out. I am not liking it, but I am trying to listen to my body. 
I felt very cared for by everyone and not at all guilty about the fact that I am taking it slowly.
Got home and crashed it on the couch for 2 hours. 

Tomorrow I will log on to my laptop and begin the process of catching up with what's in my in box -no doubt the delete button will get a good workout.

Have now tried to write a closing sentence about 10 times. Just not happening so I am giving up.

But I still am as always

P xx









Sunday 19 August 2012

Visitors

Sunday afternoon and I have just finished watching Forrest Gump. Why that movie?

Well my sisters-in-law from Perth have been visiting me and we were talking about favourite movies. Forrest Gump made the list. I haven't watched it for ages so just decided it was a good way to spend an afternoon resting up from a big few days.

OK I forgot that Jenny dies at the end (but not from cancer) - so another little cry was had.

I have been quiet (well no postings but not really quiet) for the past few days as I have spent time with the said sisters - Aunty Anne as she is affectionately known and Becca.

Funny how life has a way of presenting you with what you need when you need it. We had been talking about having a girls weekend in Sydney for  a while and finally got schedules lined up and on the 2nd July they booked to come to me on the  16th August.

4 days later I was diagnosed. So the planned trip couldn't have come at a better time. 

Something to look forward to, I would be on the road to recovery and I would get spoilt and have some family around.

They arrived on Thursday night bringing much needed family connections and spoil me they did.

We had a fantastic few days - I did of course do a bit too much but am getting much better at being  honest enough to say I have had enough and slip home for a little lie down.

We ate far too much and drank about the same amount.

As I was sipping on my (not going to admit to the number) glass of mulled wine I had a rather liberating thought. You know that link between red wine and breast cancer?  Doesn't really apply to me anymore. No breasts, no breast cancer.  So I can now fill that glass of red guilt free. Gotta be some benefits to having no boobs.

It was a good distraction having them here and certainly lifted my mood from last week. But it is a  funny thing this cancer stuff - it consumes my thoughts nearly every waking moment. But I am not sure if that would be the case if I was  recovering from  major surgery for any disease and my surgical wounds reminded me all the time of what I had had done.

I guess the difference is that while my wounds will heal, I will never look the same.

I wonder how long it will take for me to look in the mirror and just see me?

But I am starting to get used to it. It surprises me a little that I am  not more self-conscious when I go out - but I know that most people would have no idea that rather than looking a little flat chested I am in fact  completely without anything there. Except for this weird bit of rib on my right side that sticks out and makes me look a bit like a prepubescent girl with those little buds we all got before we got real boobs - remember that happening?

The pain is getting better and Dr Dave was right about the sandpaper feeling being caused by the skin being very dry - moisturising helps a lot. I can also lift both my hands above my head and almost sleep on my side. Big achievements.

Tomorrow I begin the process of re-entering the real world - work.

 As I have mentioned before I work for a large cancer organisation so I am very fortunate that I have a  supportive work environment so it will be a gradual return to work. Tomorrow I am having my laptop set up so that I can work from home for the first week.  

It is amazing. I haven't even checked my emails (work that is) since I have been off and it is a very good lesson.
We are not indispensable, and the world will continue if some projects need to get pushed back a little, or someone does things a little different to the way you may do it or if we have to give up control over things or even that emails don't get answered immediately. I have been able to let it go and that has certainly helped me focus on just recovering. 
I am very grateful to my manager and the rest of my team.

So here it is again late on a Sunday night and I am still trying to get this finished. 
Have skped with my mum in Perth  and daughter S in Brisbane, been to the supermarket, cooked dinner, talked to Ducatilad and helped N write some rhyming lines for his HSC Visual Arts work. Been busy.

Hard to believe that this time last week I was waiting to see Dr Dave to get the pathology results. This week I have an appt with the medical oncologist because of those results.

Who knows what I will get at that appt  but as Forrest Gump says "life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get" (but I am really hoping that chemo isn't one of the flavours in my box).

Sleep has been calling for the past 30 minutes - time to listen.

So I am as always


P xx









Wednesday 15 August 2012

Fall out


Well as predicted there has been some emotional fall out from my appointment with Dr Dave on Monday.

There has been a lot of processing both of the information he gave me and my reactions to it. 

And probably no surprise to anyone (except perhaps me) it culminated in a very big cry last night and  the admission that I don’t like the fact that I have no breasts, that I feel disfigured (there I have said it) and that I have had breast cancer.

I was very tired, sore and frustrated that doing normal things required a much bigger effort.

I had driven for the first time, been to have a facial which was heaven but required an explanation about my sensitive upper chest and shopped and cooked dinner.

Feeling OK within the confines of home is one thing – re-joining the outside world another.

Added to that, on Monday Dr Dave took off all the steri-strips to expose the surgical wounds. They looked raw and fresh and I found it more confronting than I expected.

Yes he has achieved a good cosmetic result but you know what – the cosmetic look I had before was just fine thank you.

So all of that just tipped me over and it is a been a strange conflict of emotions since.

Remember I wrote that it all seemed like a bit of an overreaction to one small lump in my breast?

Well as we all now know the pathology results showed that in fact I didn’t just have one small lump, but that the cancer cells were much more widespread in my breast.

So on the one hand I now feel justified in making the decision to have a double mastectomy because in fact I had “real” breast cancer (The reason for the inverted commas is because I was actually asked once by someone if I my first breast cancer was “real” and no I didn’t slap her) but on the other hand I am struggling coming to terms with the knowledge that it wasn’t just a little lump.

Not sure that that makes any sense. I think much of it is connected to my experience the first time I was diagnosed and the fact that I “only” had a lumpectomy and radiotherapy.  (That needs a whole post to itself)


On a lighter note, and there is an  intended pun here, Dr Dave gave me a copy of the pathology report to take home. 
Apart from the fact that the report contained detailed information about the cancer, the size and the grade, what was most disturbing was the rather pathetic weight of my boobs.

Between them they weighed 663gm; the right was 388g and the left 275g

The packs of chicken breasts I buy for schnitzel weigh more than that.

Guess I won’t be noticing that weight difference when I next step onto the scales.

As promised I also asked him about the difference in the charge for the right and left breast. Seems it has nothing to do with a home shopping discount offer but rather the more mundane way that Medicare apportions costs for multiple procedures in the same operation. Boring.

So yes it has been a rough few days since I saw him. Relieved that the decision was a good call yet still trying to come to terms with what had been  growing in my breast and the fact that I may need more treatment.

As Van Morrison wrote " Mamma said there would be days like this" and I guess he was right.


P xx


Monday 13 August 2012

What the Dr said

As predicted I didn't stop at one.

So this will be a very short post. I need to process what has happened today and also write with a much clearer head.

I saw  Dr Dave today. The news was good but not what not I expected. I sense it wasn't what he expected either.

In a nutshell the decision to have a double mastectomy was the right one and as it turns out not just for  reasons of symmetry.

As he told me, given the pathology results of the left breast, he would have recommended that I have the right one done as well. It seems that my breast likes to produce cancer cells.

Shit am I glad that I didn't have to go in for a repeat performance

Basically I had a 1.3 cm invasive ductal carcinoma as well as 80mm of ductal carcinoma insitu. In  lay terms this means there was  lot more cancer cells in the left breast than originally thought.

So the next steps are  an appointment with the Medical Oncologist to discuss what the benefits may or may not be of having chemotherapy, some hormonal therapy and more red wine (OK my prescription not the Dr's).

Yes the news is good, but it wasn't what I expected. Don't think it was what Dr Dave expected either.

Well I have just logged on and realised that the last bit of this post that I wrote last night after a few reds didn't save. Bugger

I do remember that I was pleased with what I had managed to compose, but of course cannot reproduce it now.  

There was something about maybe now having to accept that I do fit into that category of 'women with breast cancer' and writing again when I could be more erudite and my acerbic wit was on game.

So in the meantime the above is what I have to offer as I promised to let you know what happened at the Dr's.

There will be more but until then

I am as always

P xx  (without the expected sore head)












Sunday 12 August 2012

I stopped at one....

glass of red on a Sunday night that is. Have to say the temptation to have a second was there but then who knows where this post would have ended up as a result.

Here I am at the end of another fairly self indulgent weekend.  I am trying not to feel guilty about nurturing myself as I recuperate.

It has been a bit of a mixed weekend with regards to how I am travelling.

Could be that I am seeing Dr Dave tomorrow to get the pathology results back and learn about whether I need any further treatment. As I have written previously, I have tried not to engage with that before I have to as I have absolutely no control over what the results will be.

Whatever the answer is, there will no doubt be some emotional fall out.

I have been a bit teary today. My chest is sore and I found it a bit hard to get dressed - needed to think about what I was putting on. Then, because my chest was sore I thought I would put some moisturiser on it to see if that made it feel any better, so then I had to take the 3 layers off and that hurt and that just reminded me that I have had a big operation and I still have a long way until I am all healed. And that feels unfair.

Added to that it is so cold here. Which doesn't help anything. May chest feels cold - it has lost it's layer of fat to keep it warm and I think that makes it feel worse. OK I have no scientific evidence at all for that statement, but I am sure if I had boobs my upper body wouldn't feel any where near as cold.

After a very social day yesterday, coffee in the morning, red wine and cheese platter in the afternoon, I planned a quiet evening at home with a downloaded iTunes movie.

What did I download? "A Little Bit of Heaven" starring Kate Hudson. Now there may be a some of you who know what this movie is about and are  shaking your heads and asking "Why would you do that to yourself". And for those of you who don't, bet you can have a stab at what the subject matter may have been.

In my defence, the trailer on iTunes didn't work except for a scene in the hospital with a good looking Dr, it was in the romantic comedy section and once I cottoned on to what the story was I was already involved in it.

If you haven't already worked it out, the movie is about a young woman who is diagnosed with advanced cancer and dies. In between she works out what really matters in life, falls in love, makes a lot of jokes and makes peace with lots of things. OK so maybe not the best choice. But you know what - I don't have advanced cancer, I am not going to die (well I am, but not until I am at least 90) and it was a very sweet movie about life, love, family and friends.

And I have all of that in abundance and it made me very grateful.

Oh and I  had a good cry - something that I have maybe needed to do for a while. And after, I called Ducatilad and told him that we had a lot of living to do. He agrees. Love him. Miss him, but know we are connected wherever we are.

I  have a bit of a retraction to make about something  I wrote in my post "The Price of Things". There I stated that while the BCNA resources were excellent, they weren't really for me. Think denial was visiting again. You see, only women with breast cancer need that information and I pretend I don't fit into that category. It all seems a bit of an overreaction to a small lump in my breast.

But today I picked them up and started reading them.

Given my work, I am  familiar with the resources on a professional level and have skimmed through them on numerous occassions but reading them when it actually relates to you is a very different story. They weren't available 15 years ago, so it is like I am reading them for the first time.

 And there was lots of very useful, relevant information.

When I was diagnosed the first time, I did no reading, Google had only just started so there was no internet searches and I wasn't all that interested in the details. I just had my surgery, fronted up 5 days a weeks for 6 weeks to have radiotherapy and trusted that everyone treating me knew what they were doing. And once it was finished, got on with  things.

This time it is a little different, and I kind of need to know about things like hormone receptors, HER2 status, hormone therapy and not only that, I actually need to know what they mean, not just how to say them.

Thanks to the My Journey Kit, I now have a better understanding of these, have a list of informed questions and feel better prepared for my appointment tomorrow.
And who knows I may even stop pretending that I don't fit into the breast cancer category. 
(but I still wont be wearing the bra).

Hopefully by tomorrow afternoon I will have  answers to those informed questions. 
And tommorrow night, whatever those answers may be, I have a feeling I might not stop at one.

Until then I am as always.....

P xx




Thursday 9 August 2012

To tell or not to tell?

Yesterday was 2 weeks since I had my surgery. 

 Yes I will agree I am looking pretty bloody fantastic  considering what I have had done. And no I am  not pretending when I say I also feel pretty good.

This morning I stood in front of the bathroom mirror doing my morning face routine, no towel covering my chest and it is starting to feel normal.

I even had  one of those moments, today, when I wasn't P who has had cancer and a double mastectomy but I was simply me. For a brief moment I forgot about the fact that underneath my jumper things were not as they used to be.  Another very good sign. 

The crossing over into this is, my new reality, is starting.


The Whip Cracker picked me up today for an outing. Have to say she was very gentle with me.
We hit the shopping centre to do a few errands and a little bit of retail therapy. 
As I wandered through the shops I did look at outfits and wonder which would still suit me with my flat chest and which would be off the list. 
That got me thinking about what I already have in my wardrobe and what will or wont work anymore.
I am prepared to have a few "f*ck nothing looks good on me" moments as I move out of jeans, long sleeve tshirts and baggy jumpers. But hey - women all over the world have those moments all the time - even those with boobs. 

But today I wasn't looking at new clothes I was only buying some new camisoles.
 And they do look good on me. 



Next stop after the shopping was lunch. ( I am getting quite used to this kind of living).

I have been quite cocooned for the past 2 weeks and the only people I have seen, know what has happened - of course that doesn't include the randoms I pass in the street or the people in the shops, but people who actually know me.

As we entered the cafe we saw that there was a large table of lunching ladies and that we both knew a few of them. Quick wave and hi hi ( you know that kind of greeting) and we sat down. 
As we got up to leave one of the women called me over. 

What pursued was one of those moments when you have to make a decision about self disclosure.

Hi how are you?

Now as the first question was coming out, the conversation in my head was going - tell or not tell, has she heard or hasn't she, is it obvious that I have no breasts and do I answer with

"Yes I'm really well except  I was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago, had a double mastectomy 2 weeks ago but I'm doing OK.  And what's happening with you?"

But instead I opted for 


Good thanks
Everything OK, you well?
Yes every thing's great, I'm really well.
Good to hear. Bye
Bye.

As you have probably already gathered, I am not a particularly private person and as my good friend H says, I tell it like it is. 

But sometimes there are times to filter that self disclosure. It is mostly about not wanting to get into a whole discussion about it ( hence the reason for blogs) and the questions that inevitably arise.

And unlike other topics, cancer seems to attract far more offerings of philosophical musings, words of encouragement and proclamations about how your personality traits will somehow influence your prognosis ( stay tuned for a when I really step up onto my soap box on this topic).*

It is also about not ambushing people. In my younger years I used to take much pleasure in doing that  with all sorts of private pieces of information but have lost the enthusiasm for it as I have gotten older.

I didn't have the energy or the desire to watch someone else struggle with processing a fairly confronting piece of information in a short space of time.

It also brought back memories of the first time I was diagnosed with breast cancer. S, my daughter, had gone home with a friend after school while I went to see the breast surgeon for the first time. I told  his mother that I had an urgent appointment with the accountant. That appointment took until 7pm. When we arrived to pick her up and  I apologised for being late, she asked if everything was alright ( I guess I didn't look all that good), I can clearly remember replying "Yes all good. I've got breast cancer but I am going to be OK" and I kept on walking through to get S.
It was only later that I realised how shocking that was for her ( and not a deliberate ambush). I did ring to apologise and we have laughed about that many times since. 

 For all these reasons I chose the equivalent of the verbal two cheek air kiss. 

No doubt there will be more of these moments as I slowly re-enter the world outside of my private sphere. It is different this time round. The first time I had kept most of my breast so it was no where near as obvious, a second cancer diagnosis is always more shocking and  a double mastectomy is  seen as a far more radical procedure. 

Perhaps I need to re-read the section in the Now What...? books where I have written about telling people and how to prepare for it and also accept that there will be times when I choose complete  self disclosure and times when I don't. 

Either way it is and always will be my choice.


Before I finish up and head off to bed ( and eat the last of my very special chocolates)  A quick update on the pain situation. I woke up yesterday with a big improvement in the range of movement especially in my right arm but the annoying sensation in my upper chest is still there. I am trying to re-frame it ( as M suggested) and think of it as the nerve endings repairing themselves and sensation returning. Which is a good thing. Not sure I will be happy to re-frame it for an extended period of time though. Patience, patience. I know.

So I will continue to be aware of those crossing over moments, acknowledge how well I am doing, get my girlfriends to take me out  and continue my search for  soft camisoles.

And  I may just need to have one ambush moment to keep me amused. 


Until then I am as always


P xx

* this is not the same as people who acknowledge my capacity  to deal with what I am dealing with and recognise my strengths and resilience. 

Tuesday 7 August 2012

Is this what it's supposed to feel like?

Have had quite a productive day today: - 
  • Managed to offload an IKEA TV cabinet that has been sitting in my hallway since we moved homes in April ( thank you Gumtree)
  • Requested a review of the parking ticket  received on the day I went to see Dr Dave for the first time. The unexpected blood test meant I didn't make it back to the car in time
  • Paid some bills and sent off a claim to  Medicare.
  • Watched a movie 
  • Finished my book

Now before you all get preachy about doing too much - there was very little physical exertion in any of it. But I felt like I needed to get into action.

And if I am being honest - and I did promise you that I would be - I am still quite sore.

On Sunday night I went onto Breast Cancer Australia's online forum to see what other women's experiences with pain were. It was good to read that the 'sandpaper" sensation I have across my chest is not unusual and that things can be quite painful for a while after and that sometimes you can get fluid pooling in the wound site that can cause discomfort and may need to be drained. 
Ah the power of a peer support on-line forum where people have a lived experience and share that with others. (of much more use to me than the bra they sent me)

At least I felt a bit more at ease even if still sore.

But since then I have had two phone calls to Dr Dave.

Yesterday still sore and now concerned about a little lump that had formed on the right wound site ( have a bit of a fear around lumps on my chest),  so called him.
 Conversation went something along the lines of "does it feel like you have grown an A cup on the wound site"
Are you serious? If this was a post surgical possibility  to spontaneously grow an A cup I may not have been so stressed about deciding to have the breast off. 

I  reported  that, no, the lump was much smaller than that..  He assured me that as long as I didn't have a fever or feel unwell and there was no pus on the wound site it all sounded normal and he would see me next week and of course call again if I was worried. So I  hung up, took 2 panadol and carried on - with a painful chest.

Woke up this morning, lump still there but now there is also another small one on the side and I have to admit it, my whole chest was feeling bloody sore.

Now I have to put in another disclaimer. I have a fairly high pain threshold and am pretty good at ignoring parts of my body when they are sore, but this whole post double mastectomy thing is a little out of my usual pain experience.
I have no idea how it is supposed to feel, what is normal and what may be outside of that. And that is the unsettling thing. And there is that element of fear that if I don't check something out and it in fact needed checking then I have been less than vigilant. 
Cancer can kind of have that effect, I think. 

So another call to Dr Dave.  I quickly explain that I am not really neurotic and anxious about things ( now no comments from those who know me well) but that there was another lump and it looked a little bruised and it still felt like sandpaper.

He then said to me, and I quote " Take away the fact that you have had an operation. Imagine that you have been hit multiple times by a baseball bat that flattens the breast like a piece of schnitzel. It is going to be bruised and sore and even after the beating has stopped it will still feel like you have been battered. Well that is how your chest is going to feel like for 2-4 weeks after surgery"
Got to love a guy who can come up with that sort of analogy.

He then asked if the pain was a "2 panadeine every 4 hours" kind of pain. 

So now I have some  sort of benchmark; and no it isn't that bad.

 If I was taking that amount of painkillers I would not only not be in any pain, I would be completely off my nut  (and extremely constipated) 
Again he  reassured me that he felt I was OK and that we would see each other on Monday.

I hung up feeling a little less worried about my post surgical discomfort  and resigned to the fact that I would feel bruised and battered for a while. And took another 2 panadol.

So it seems that the answer to the question is yes.  I just don't have to like it.


As always


P xx





















Sunday 5 August 2012

The view in my bathroom mirror

Sitting here on the couch with my gorgeous throw rug on my legs I have to confess that I am quite sore. Not sure why. I have taken it very easy today - well except for folding a small load of washing, unstacking the dishwasher and emptying out the "past their use by date" things in the fridge.


 No seriously I have actually spent most of the day on the couch, reading, watching a movie and checking how many page views I have had on my blog.*


I am hoping that the increased sensation in my chest is the nerve endings starting to repair themselves after they were brutally assaulted during surgery. Or it could be the simple fact that it is still less than 2 weeks since I had a major operation and it it is gonna hurt for a while longer. A good excuse to take more drugs.


This morning I took another step in coming to terms with my new look. 


I actually looked at my top half in the bathroom mirror - not just a quick glimpse but a real look.
And Dr Dave was right. He has managed to achieve symmetry between the two scars. That is they both start and finish in the same spots and they are in line with each other. And shit I have no breasts.

Up until now I have carefully positioned everything in my bathroom to avoid catching site of myself naked as I have taken a shower. (OK maybe that is an image that not everyone needs to have) but it is amazing how many surfaces in a bathroom reflect your image apart from the mirror. 


I have been getting bolder at looking down at my scars, touching them and exploring the new view but that is different than a front on view in the mirror.


Each day I have gotten a little braver, let the towel fall a bit as I have been drying myself and changing the dressings on the drain site wounds.


But today I did a top half full Monty. Of course there was no audience or musical accompaniment. 


Guess you all want to know how it felt?  Not as bad as I thought. 
(Alright that fact that it has taken me 10 days to do it may mean that it has been just a bit of an issue for me)


 But then I am not sure how I am supposed to feel. There is no doubt it looks weird and feels weird, but I haven't felt a great sense of loss - yet. Again I may be in denial and at some stage down the track it is going to hit me and I may struggle big time. And then again it might not.


Or maybe I can marvel at the power of the human mind to normalise things and my own ability to just get on with it.


But what I do know with absolute clarity is that  despite the fact that what I see in the mirror is different I am still me, tits or no tits. 


I can still feel those nerve endings repairing themselves so it is time for some painkillers and the healing powers of sleep.


As always


P xx


* 1574 but who is counting