Wigs Galore

Ok now for wiggy appointment.  As soon as we arrived, after Lee still asking me every 2 minutes if I was feeling ok, we were told to take a seat and given a brochure to go through.  I didn’t need telling to take a seat, I would have sat down whether they liked it or not, as this drunken dizzy feeling was now making me feel that all I wanted to do was sit down and relax my head back, just like I always did having had a skin full on a night out.  Flicking through the brochures I realised that the stigma attached to wigs was not as it used to be.  Thankfully the days had gone that you could spot a wig from a mile away, always looking too thick and styled more for the older woman.  I was amazed of how many different styles there were.  Lee and I picked out a couple that we liked and thought that I would suit; ready to try on in a few minutes time.  Thinking ahead, we picked out short styles, more for the reason of not having to wear the wig for too long before my hair grew back. 

Eventually we were shown into a small room.  Three walls in the room had shelves and shelves, from floor to ceiling full of polystyrene heads with different wig styles and colours, there were long ones; short ones, dark ones, blonde ones. Only one wall was free, this wall contained a huge mirror, a small shelf with a few combs, brushes and fixing sprays and a chair directly in front of it giving the illusion that you were in a hairdresser’s salon, what I couldn’t understand was, Why were there frickin scissors there.

I went and seat, feeling nervous and excited, not to mention the dizziness that was still taking hold of me from my chemo earlier.  The wigs look so different in reality from the brochure that was out in the waiting room.  I couldn’t even spot any that Lee and I had seen in the brochure.  I asked for the brochure and Lee and I pointed out the wigs that we had picked out.  The first one, which was my favourite, was a blonde, very short and neat style that had a feathered look to it.  In the brochure this looked quite up to date and very neat.  Not on me it didn’t though.  Did I mention that the days were gone when you could spot a wig from a mile and about them looking too thick and styled for older women; Well! This bloody wig suddenly turned me into my grandma, which was not really the look that I wanted to go for, well not at the age of 39.  One by one I tried on the wigs that Lee and I had picked out and each time the image that stared back at me from the mirror was a mix between my grandma and Deirdre Barlow from the seventies (without the glasses of course).  Lee was taking it all in and obviously from his reactions had the same thoughts that I was having, even though he was trying to put on the brave smiling face.  Some of them though when on, Lee and I would look at each other with sheer horror and finish up in fits of laughter, making jokes about them and calling me all sorts of names.  Some even made me look like the blue rinse queen of the 70’s, then there were the ones that you could see from a bloody mile the straight line stitching around the forehead area, thick and bulging.  Lee mentioned that I would look better with a sweep over than some of the wigs I had tried, I agreed whole heartedly but stated that the sweep over strand of hair that I may hold onto, at some point would too, fall out.   The excitement that I’d had previously had slowly disappeared and was replaced with total utter panic.  What If I can’t find a wig, a wig that suits me? Then what will I do for the next God knows how many months it will take for my hair to grow?  Christ, How long will I be without any hair, How long will it take to grow back after my chemo has finished.  Let’s face it, my hair isn’t the fastest growing, totally the opposite and could end up with no hair for years.  What if people laugh at me because my wig looks so friggin wiggy and they stare because I looks so damn stupid. 

I was recommended a Victoria Beckham style and was told that this one was made much finer. Feeling that this was going to be the one, my hope was regained.  So on it went, it did look better but still it felt and looked a bit too thick not to mention the fringe.  Which I thought would do my nut in as it was quite long and kept falling into my eyes, but that was ok as I was told that this could be trimmed more to suit me (ha haaa, the reason for the scissors). Sat with it on my head for a while and turning this way and that, it was growing on me, but it still wasn’t ME.  Lee told me that it did look nice and definitely better than the others that I had tried on.  “Is there anything else that you might want to try on?” I was asked. I looked over at Lee and smiled.  “Well!” I said.  “ My eyes keep going to that one over there” I had spotted this one as soon as we had entered the room, every time I tried on one of the disasters, my eyes would go back to it as if it were like a magnet. 

Placing the wig on my head I kept my eyes down. I didn’t want to look until it was on and brushed into shape.  I had a gut feeling that this was going to be the one and that the image staring back at me from the mirror would be more like ME.  I opened my eyes and let a huge sigh of relief out.  I was happy.  The reflection I was seeing was definitely ME.  I turned round to face Lee to see what he thought.  He didn’t need to say anything, his face told me, with his huge smile and the sparkle in his eyes.  This was the one! 

I was given some instructions on how to look after it and it was put in a very pretty presentation box.  I handed over my voucher that the hospital had given me and to my surprise I was told that this wig normally retailed at £290.  I didn’t have to put any money to it as the voucher covered the full cost.  

Meet The Wig

Before the Cancer

I am not worried at all about losing my hair now, now that I have found a wig, one that I like.  I love my wig.  Lee and I went home feeling very happy.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing in front of the TV, the phone has rang a few times, friends and family asking how things went today and how I was feeling,  which has made both Lee and I smile, to be able to say that I am good and that I am not feeling or being sick.   Lee and I lay cuddled on the sofa.  It was nice just laying there, I felt so comfortable, cosy and very much loved, by Lee and everyone around me.  I am also feeling very proud of myself, proud that I have actually done my first chemo and in my mind I can see these drugs now starting to zap at my bloody squatters.

First Chemo

Well here at long last!  Friday 8^th June 2007; The day has arrived for my first chemo.  I must admit these last couples of weeks have not been easy; I have had good days and I have had some low days, but overall the good have outweighed the bad considerably.  The positive thoughts have come to the front of my mind more and more, which in turn has left very little room for any doubt or negativity.  I must admit that I do sometimes fear the thought of these squatters growing and spreading inside of me so the fact still remains that the sooner that these squatters are cut out of me the better.

7.30am and I am feeling very very nervous.  Lee made me eat a small breakfast as they say that by eating a small meal before chemo can help against the nausea.  Wel!l I’m sure I will find out if it’s true or not cos in approximately another hour and half I will be having my very first one.  My stomach won't stop churning and I do feel a little on edge, which I suspect is because I don't know what to expect and I hate bloody needles.  I know that the needle thing is something that I will have to get used to and feel that it will be a small price to pay to get rid of these blooming squatters. Soon I will know what it’s all about and what I have to endure for the next five months.  I have been told that it will take approximately an hour and half so it shouldn't be too bad.   My hair and makeup are done to perfection and I am ready to go. 

Lee was being his usual self on the way to the hospital. “You idiot, what d’ ya think you’re doing” he shouted, (as if the person in the car in the front could actually hear him).  I looked on and tried to ignore the road rage moment that was now going on.  “What’s she breaking for now, stupid cow, just look at her” he carried on and before I knew it tears had formed in my eyes.  I could do without the road rage today, especially when this road rage journey was taking me straight to the world of the unknown ‘My Chemo’  Lee noticed my water filled eyes, “What’s wrong darling” he asked. “I’m scared Lee and just can’t be doing with all that shouting this morning” I snivelled.   Lee couldn’t apologise enough and so the rest of the journey went smoothly, no raised voices and no moaning about other drivers on the road.

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We arrived at the hospital 15 minutes before our appointment time "are you ready?" Lee said as we approached the double doors leading to the chemo day unit.  I smiled a nervous smile and nodded.  Walking in, I kept my eyes looking straight ahead and fixed on the reception desk at the other end of the corridor all times.  I didn't want to look into any of the side rooms or any of the bays that led off from the main corridor.  I was nervous enough without seeing anything that may put me off or make me even more nervous of what lie ahead. 

Stood at the reception desk getting booked in, The ‘Research Nurse’ approached,”I owe you an apology" she said.  I turned to see her friendly face.  "Apparently the computer had also selected you to receive the Gemcitabine alongside with the Pacletaxol" she continued to tell me.  I just smiled "That's Ok" I said, "The more drugs that you put in my body the more it will kill of this cancer, right?".  I didn't care. I was pleased really.  I was now having the full four chemotherapy drugs that they were researching and in my eyes, that to me meant I had a better chance of getting rid of the cancer.  The additional side effect that I could incur with this extra drug would be aching joints, itching and fluid retention, a small price to pay to get me cancer free. 

A nurse by the name of Anne then showed us around the ward and took us into a small bay that occupied 6 reclining chairs.  No one else was present at this time and the ward seemed pretty quiet.   Anne was really nice; she was polite and very friendly, and was the one who was going to put all the poisons into me.  She explained what was going to happen, and then asked me my name and date of birth, to double check that I was indeed the person that she had written down, making sure the drugs laid out on the trolley were for me and not some other poor sod who was going to go through what I was about to start.  All the drugs were checked off against a sort of prescription form and I couldn’t believe how many there seemed to be.  “I thought I was having just chemo drugs” I whispered to Lee as everything was double checked with another nurse. 

Ok here goes, Anne has a needle (Cannula) in her hand and is about to stab me with it.  I have been dreading this bit, my heart started racing and all I want to do was turn around, run as far away as I could from this place and go home. 'What if' it hurts?  "What if" I do get sick?  If it does make me feel sick, will I feel sick straight away, will I be able to do this for 5 months?  I felt like a lost child that has no control what so ever and I didn’t like this feeling one little bit.

Lee took hold of my other hand "It's going to be ok" he says and smiles at me.  I do hope he's right.  What is he really thinking and feeling right now.  His he as scared as I am, that I will get sick or is he positive that I am going to breeze through this like he's been telling me.  I sit holding onto his hand looking at him and smiling while the nurse administers the needle.  I can't look; it will hurt more if I look.  God I'm behaving like a child scared of a little tiny needle.  Not once did I let it show how scared and nervous I was.  I just kept smiling and talking (babbling).

As the cannula went in I tried to stay relaxed, "Oucheee" I squeezed Lee's hand tighter as I felt the needle go in.  It did feel a bit uncomfortable and painful but it didn't take long and the pain soon started to wear off.  A clear bag of saline was connected which was left to drip into my veins for about 10 minutes then Anne started to give me some anti sickness drugs which she injected using the saline to flush the drugs in.   This took approximately 30 minutes and one of the drugs she told me could, if given too quickly give you a strong prickly feeling between your legs which she kindly told me they had nick named; thistles in your knickers.  Luckily she was nice to me and administered it really really slowly so that I didn't experience the thistles.  So far so good!

Next on the agenda were some syringes of what looked like, thick red liquid.  This was the epirubicin that had to be administered manual by injecting into my hand very slowly through the cannula needle port as this drug is very toxic and if leaked out the vein it can damage the tissue around it.  I must say that I did not like the sound of this one little bit and didn’t like the feeling of it as it was pushed in, burning and burning that I thought my vein was going to explode, the feeling of a volcano about to erupt, the fire curdling away and getting hotter and hotter.  Anne noticed my wincing face and slowed down with the drug.  “Is that feel better?” She asked, I didn’t need to answer, the sigh of relief said it all.  All the time Anne chatted and chatted, more or less telling us her life story.  In the middle of her life story of how long she had worked in the chemo clinic, she passed over a large prescription form to Lee and asked him to take it down to Pharmacy.  This form had all my anti-sicky tablets on that I would be taking home.  Bloody jammy bugger, he got to get away for a while, away from Anne’s life story.  He was gone for ages and I began to think that he'd taken the scenic route around the whole of the hospital and then gone off to Mac Dee’s for a burger followed by a ciggie.  I didn't blame him if he had really as it wasn't very comfortable sat in the chair I was in, never mind the chair that Lee had to sit in, which resembles one of those old plastic school chairs. 

Every now and then Anne would get a little carried away and start to inject the drug in faster and the drug would start to burn again.  It was as though the faster she talked the faster the stuff was pushed in, and had to keep reminding her to slow it down.   I started to think about the events of last year, if 'Dr X' hadn't been so nasty and abrupt with me, then maybe I wouldn't be sat here having to go through all of this.  This was all her fault, how could she do this to me, how could she do this to anyone.  How many more women has she sent down this road?  She's a woman for god sake, shouldn't she have been more understanding.  She should have listened to me and not got on her high horse about her dealing with breasts all day long and that she knew better than me.  These were my breasts and I know them better than anyone.  I have never in my life hated anyone so much as I hate her right now.

Lee arrived back and Anne started to laugh immediately as soon as she saw the paper bag containing my drugs in his hand.  "We wondered why it was taking you so long” She said “You were supposed to just drop the prescription off and I would have sent you back down later when they were ready". Lee looked at me with a confused face "I didn't know! I've never done this before have I?" Lee replied back to her smiling, but with only me knowing that this smile was one of embarrassment of not doing what she had only just told him.  I took hold of his hand as he sat down beside me and gave it a squeeze of re-assurance, that I would have probably done the same thing. 

Eventually the last syringe of the red drug was administered; the process took over an hour and Anne was now connecting a clear bag of liquid that contained the cyclophosphamide drug to the cannula.  Lee was now constantly asking me how I was feeling.  I was feeling pretty good a little on edge, as though I was waiting for the sickness to raise its ugly head, maybe this was the drug that will do that. 

This drug was a lot easier and I didn't feel it at all.  Lee and I were left on our own now and passed the time by chatting about the events of the day, so far.  Every seat in the bay was occupied now, everyone having different chemo treatments obviously the best ones for the cancer that they have.  There was a lady in her late fifties who arrived on her own.  She sat opposite us dressed in tracksuit bottoms, an overlarge T-shirt and a pair of sneakers.  Her hair was very sparse and she looked very frail but always had a smile on her face.  She asked me if it was my first one and when I nodded she smiled at me and said, "It does get easier".  That was so much encouragement, as up to now, this chemo thing wasn't that bad at all and if it does get easier then I'm definitely going to breeze through it.

It seemed that every five minutes Lee was asking how I was feeling.  I wonder if; even though he keeps telling me that I can do this, deep down he really doesn't think that I can.  I'm going to prove to him that I can, I'm going to prove to everyone that I can, and definitely going to prove to the cancer that this is my body and it can't have it. The cyclophosphamide had finished and Anne returned connected yet another bag to the drip.  “What’s this one” I asked her “Ohh it’s just a small bag of saline to make sure that all the chemo drugs are flushed through the pipe” She said.  This flush lasted for about 10 minutes and then Anne took out the cannula and while doing so told me about the anti-sickness tablets that I will be taking home and the steroids.  She told me to take the tablets as prescribed even if I didn't feel sick as the tablets we also very good at keeping the sickness at bay.  She also told me to keep an eye on my temperature, as my blood count will start to drop and I will be prone to any infections.  They will be at their lowest between day’s 10 and 14 at which point they will start to climb back up to normal again.  Lee asked her about my hair and how long it would be before it starts to fall out as we had been told that it could start to fall out at any time.  "Well!" Anne says smiling.  "I have not known anyone to keep their hair for more than two weeks in the 20 years that I have worked on chemotherapy wards."

The time was one o'clock in the afternoon and I was free to go home.  I felt a bit wary of standing up and walking out of the hospital, as I didn't know if this would start to make me feel sick.  I felt fine; a bit light headed, and flushed but apart from that I didn't feel any different.  The nurse told me that my next one would be in 3 weeks and should be easier as I now know what to expect and it would hopefully be done in the hour and half as it should have taken. 

I had numerous missed calls on my mobile and all of them from my mum.  I rang her straight away.  She had begun to get a little worried, as we had told her how long the chemo was going to take.  I again was on a high, I was giddy with excitement, I had completed my first chemo and right now the drugs will be starting to attack these unwanted squatters that are squatting in my boob.

With 2 hours to kill, before my appointment to go and pick out my wig, we decided to call at Lee's mums for a coffee on the way.   She was surprised to see me being so bubbly.  I told Lee and his mum that the light-headedness had now developed into a strange feeling as though I'd had a couple of vodkas.  Every time I turned my head it took a couple of seconds for my vision to catch up and focus.  The only way that I can describe this feeling is the feeling that you get when you have had too much to drink, you’re not at the sick stage but you know that if you have any more to drink you’ll know that it will all come back up, along with anything that you had eaten that day.  "Oh my God, she's going to be drunk for the next 5 months," Lee laughed and turned to his mum saying  ”I don't get much sense out of her when she's sober, so I'm going to need all the help I can get if she's going to be drunk all the time".  We all started to laugh. 

All in all my first chemo went very well and was not as bad as I had expected.  I know now for definite that I can do this.  Yes it has taken half a day for my treatment, but I don't care.  I know that it is still early days and that I may become sick, I am prepared for that, but I feel that as long as I keep a strong positive mind then I will, as Lee puts it; Breeze through it.

Preparing for Chemo

I have surprised myself of how confident and positive I am feeling. Where am I getting my strength? Lee, family and everyone around me, the phone has been ringing constantly, and I have received numerous cards telling me that I can beat this and get my so called squatters evicted. The feeling of support is overwhelming and I seem to be amazing everyone by my frame of mind and the way that I am dealing with it all.

First Hair Cut

On Saturday 3rd June 2007; In preparation for the chemo I have decided to take charge of my hair. Lee and I called round to see his mums and asked her if she would do the honors of cutting it for me. After a very long drawn out discussion of how to cut it and how short to go she agreed, it was decided that I would have a short (jaw line) inverted bob. This hair cutting business is a first for me as I would never have volunteered for a haircut. Usually I hated anyone cutting my hair as I always liked it long and over the years I have had a lot of disappointments and disasters with hairdressers, who always put it upon themselves to cut inches and inches off instead of the very ends as I would usually ask them to do. I can remember one occasion where I came out of the hairdressers with my hair being; the only way to describe it was that it had been hacked at. T hey had cut approximately 4 to 6 inches off and I had chunks missing everywhere. The right side was a good inch longer than the left and in the end the only way to put it right was either to have it all cut short or to have some extensions. I sat for 3 hours in a hairdressers chair (a different hairdresser of course) while she patiently rebuilt my hair that the previous hairdresser had destroyed. Today was a totally different story though. I wanted to get in there before the chemo did and by doing this I felt like I was in control. If I didn't like it, so what, I wouldn't have it for long anyway would I.

So with the Towel wrapped around my shoulders I got sat in the chair and let Maureen get started on giving me my new hairstyle. As I sat there I could see my beautiful long blonde hair falling to the floor, handfuls and handfuls of it all around me. My heart was pounding as I saw each handful of hair fall wondering what I would look like and knowing that there was no going back. I felt it rest against my jaw line and could no longer see my blonde hair around my shoulders. I looked up at Lee to see his expression and as he looked at me his eyes grew big with a facial expression of shear horror. I laughed at him and told him to stop messing about. He laughed back, smiled an approving smile, and said, "It looks good, you should have had it cut a long time ago". That's all I needed to hear, those words made me feel better. I didn’t care if Lee’s first reaction was true or if his words were. What counted the most for me was his support and right now I was getting it. Even if I didn’t suit my hair short, the man I love was giving me re-assurance that my hair didn’t matter, which is a good job because very soon it will all be falling out in handfuls and become a distant memory for months and months until the chemo is done and it’s time for it to make a comeback.

I wonder what I will look like bald. Will I be lucky enough to have a decent shaped head to pull off the bald look or will I have a weird shaped head that everyone will make fun of Thinking back to my baby photo’s I will have to admit that I will most probably be the latter. Do I mind? Not one bit. I’m going bald for a reason and right now even if they told me that my hair would never come back, I would still do the same. I would still want it to be my choice when my hair goes and not the chemo’s. And I would still embrace the chemo as this is going to save my life and I would rather be bald and alive rather than have hair and die.

Maureen wouldn’t let me have the mirror to see what she was doing. She was nervous enough cutting it without having me watching her every move. Part of me wanted to look, but the other part didn’t. Sitting there in the chair and watching my hair falling all around me, I will admit, I was very nervous, but had a feeling of excitement. I was beating the chemo to my hair. I was in control.

Maureen finished cutting my hair but still wouldn't let me see it. By now I was dying to grab the mirror that was on the top and have a good look at the new me, but nope; I had to sit there while she titivated with it more and more making sure that it fell just right, even getting the hair dryer out to style it into the cut that she had done for me. I sat there being good and actual being patient for the first time in my life, while Lee watched on and Maureen busied around me, pulling the sides of my hair to make sure that both sides were even.My head felt light and on a hot day like today the air breezing around my neck felt really cool and nice. After another 15 minutes or so, at last I was allowed to look. I nervously grabbed the mirror and slowly lifted it up in front of me, turning my head this way and that, taking in the new reflection starting back at me and do you know what? I really, really like my new hairstyle. It feels in such good condition and actually feels a lot thicker. "It makes you look younger," Lee piped up. My whole face shape seems to have changed. I don’t look like me anymore, but I like it. Oh I forgot to mention; Maureen isn't even a hairdresser, she has cut family and friends hair on a few occasions and I have to admit that she has done better job than any qualified hairdresser has ever done to my hair.

The only regret that I have today as I type out my journal is that I didn't get a picture taken so unfortunately I cannot show you what my hairstyle looked like. All I can say is that I did like it and instead of trying to grow it long again when it eventually does come back I am seriously considering having my hair in a short inverted bob. Just like Maureen lovingly gave me.

Family Visit

The following day I was so excited, Lee and I took a drive up to see my family in Doncaster. Yup! I'm a Yorkshire lass, a girl whose accent is spotted no matter where she goes. The reason for the trip is that Lee and I feel that if my family could see me in the flesh, Face to Face they would see that I truly am coping with this cancer thing and not hiding behind a phone. I know my mum especially thinks I’m hiding behind the phone because every time she rings she asks me how I am and when I reply ‘I’m fine’ she repeats herself and asks again. Its either this or she’s suffering from Alzheimer's. My mum was so looking forward to me going through and after telling my younger brother, Neil and his other half, Kerry. They decided to do a little BBQ. Lee and I pulled up in front of my mum’s house and hadn’t even gotten out of the car before she was coming through her front door and down the path. We stood on the driveway hugging and as usual she asked me how I was. I laughed at her when she asked me and told her ‘I’m fine' Seeing my face as I said it, she could see that I was telling the truth and believed me for the first time since being diagnosed that I was indeed fine. After having a quick cuppa the three of us piled into the car and drove round to Neil’s. My Nana was there too which was a surprise, as usually the only place that she leaves the house for is to go to her hairdresser’s appointment every Friday. I felt very honored and as soon as I arrived she came up and gave me a great big hug. Kerry asked how I was as she busily prepared the salad dishes and Neil; well Neil is Neil and has never been good with words when he’s hurting about something that is out of his control. He deals with these feelings by going quiet. As I walked over to him, he smiled and said “How ya doin”? as he put his arms around me to give me a hug. I think the hug was for him too, to let him know, that I am ok and that he has nothing to worry about. His big sis aint going nowhere. My older brother wasn't there today due to other commitments but I know that I will see him soon.

I made my way over to the garden swing seat at the bottom of the garden and straight away Jack my nephew aged 10 was coming up the garden with some bottles of larger for us. The weather was beautiful; the sun was shining with clear blue skies and we sat, ate our food, drank lagers and generally talked about everything and anything. I was dressed in a pair of white linen trousers and a little white top that had thin straps, the top was quite low and while sitting swinging on the swing drinking my larger I discreetly kept looking down at my cleavage, obviously because of the subject that was being discussed. Every time I looked down I realised more and more that come next summer, I wouldn’t look like this, and wondered if I would be able to wear this top again. I had Joe my youngest nephew jumping around all over me, talking and talking and talking a load of gibberish just like you would expect a 3 year old to do, Driving my nana mad constantly rocking the chair swing backwards and forwards she threatened to wallop me saying she was starting to get motion sickness. I think I intentionally swung it more from that point on. Well we are put on this planet to wind our parents and grandparents up aren't we? It was nice to see them and I really enjoyed spending some time with them all.

One of the conversations we got onto was that people were coming out of the woodwork so to speak. People who have had or who have known someone that has gone through breast cancer. Many people had come forward to my family, telling their stories, and offering them support and encouragement. I appreciate this and thank them all as my family, are so dear to me and I love them all. At one point I told my brother very matter of factly that he would have more hair than me soon for a change. He laughed at this, everyone did, bless his little cotton socks he has been receding for some time. Don't get me wrong he's not gone bald, far from it, but he does keep it nice and short now. I think it's a number 1 cut that he has. Lee got everyone laughing, telling them about his ideas for my baldhead when it arrives. Well we'll just have to wait and see what he has planned for me; so far it’s; playing naughts and crosses on my bald head and drawing hair on with a permanent black marker.

At the end of the day we said our farewells, lots of hugs and kisses then Lee and I set off back for home. I think (hope) now that they have seen me that they realize that I am not putting on a brave face for everyone, and that I have accepted things as they are. I am still the same person and yes I have a fight ahead of me but I know I can do this, especially with all their loving support.

Before The Chemo

Wednesday 6th June 2007; Back again at the hospital in the Oncology waiting room, waiting to have my biopsies done. Maureen had come along with me as a bit of moral support. This was to be a regular thing that I would have to get used to, sitting around in waiting rooms. I was told to come a little earlier so that I could have my blood tests taken before having my biopsies, my first blood test of many. It's a good job I had gotten used to needles as years ago as used to pass out at the sight of one. The nurse was nice and very talkative which seemed to take away the tension that she was sticking a needle in my arm. Maureen can be good company; she always sets me off laughing for some reason or another. I am giggling inside right now as I am reading my journal about Maureen while I was having my biopsies taken. There I was, laid on the coach and obviously because I am naturally nosey, and have done this before, I am looking down as they prepare me for my biopsies. My oncologist tells me to turn my face to the opposite side. "You don't want to see this, it's not nice to see," he said. I looked away towards Maureen. I learnt that Maureen is as nosey as me, her face was an absolute picture; she watched everything they did. She was wincing and pulling all sorts of faces, but every time she looked away her eyes went straight back, taking everything in. When they take the biopsy the gadget they use makes a very loud clicking sound and each time they did this Maureen jumped a mile, shouldn't it have been me doing the flinching? After all it was me they were taking the biopsies from. I was pretty good, I didn't flinch once throughout the 4 biopsies were taken today.

Right; that's the Biopsies done. What about my chemo?

I signed my forms for the research study and was told that my details would be entered into the computer for it to select the treatment plan that I would be having. I was also given a voucher to exchange for a wig and the research nurse told me she would ring me later that afternoon to tell me what my treatment plan would be and what my start date would be. She told me that this could be as soon as Friday, depending on what drug I would be issued first.

Maureen and I went off and was in the middle of B&Q doing a bit of garden shopping for Maureen's garden when the research nurse rang. The computer had selected me for 4 rounds of the EC from the FEC every 3 weeks apart and then another 4 rounds of Pacletaxol that would be given every 2 weeks; (Oh crap, no Gemcitabine) my first one would be given to me in 2 day's time. Oh My God, my heart did a triple summersault. I was grinning like a Cheshire cat while Maureen looked on, waiting for me to repeat the conversation, after I hung up.  I felt a mixture of emotions, I started to feel a little nervous, I was giddy and I was also very excited. How could I feel excited about starting my chemotherapy? Well! The reason is that this chemo is going to start killing off my squatters. I didn't care that I would lose my hair; I didn't care about any of the side effects. All I cared about was getting things started so that I could have the surgery and get it all cut out.

So there you have it. I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer on the 17th May 2007; here I am 3 weeks later, 2 days away from starting my treatment.. In that time despite being told initially that I would have to wait approximately 3 weeks for my CT scan appointment to come through; I have had that, had the results, seen the oncologist, had my biopsies AND cut my hair. I wonder what I will look like bald. Does it come out all at once or does it just gradually fall out? I had always, as far back as I can remember had a thing about not liking the fact that I had a high forehead and always had a fringe. Well; I would soon be getting the highest forehead that I have ever had. I wonder what it will feel like, will I get cold, and will my head shine? Lee started to have a joke about it saying that he would give my head a spit and polish every day. I will have to keep him to that.

I wonder what Lee is thinking deep down, the thought and visualization that for a period of time I will have no hair. I will be bald and he is the one that will be looking and seeing it every day. He has told me not to be embarrassed and not to feel like I have to wear a wig or scarf all the time. "If you want to go bald, then go bald. Who gives a shit to what other people think?" He said and reminded me that one very good point to this part is that I will be able to spend longer in bed in a morning, as I won’t have to mess about doing my hair for work. I could just wig-it and go. No more hours spent doing it for a while, no more hairdryers and straightners. Oh yes I hadn't thought about that, just think of the money I will save on shampoos, conditioners and hairsprays.

I am now ready and raring to go. Friday is set to be the start of the eviction process of my unwanted squatters.

Meeting My Oncologist

I was both excited and nervous to meet the oncologist. I was excited because I felt like I was now starting my path to surviving cancer. I was nervous because this was to be the first part of my treatment. The oncologist was going to tell me what will happen to me, what treatments I will have, how often treatments will be, which poisons will be put into my body and what side effects I might get.

Lee and I were shown into a small side room just off the Oncology waiting room as soon as we arrived, there was no time to sit and wait, it was as though they were already waiting for us, we were told to take a seat and that the oncologist would be with us very shortly. Lee and I sat there, looking at each other, both feeling a little nervous but still smiling. A Chinese man with a big white coat walked in followed by a nurse. "Karen! Now then, we've been having a really good talk about you behind your back" he said smiling as soon as he walked into the room "I've heard you have some experience regarding this lump a year ago, do you want to tell me in your words what happened?" he said, motioning me onto the coach. I smiled and nodded, took a deep breath and started to explain about 'Dr X'. When I got to the part where she was calling me paranoid I burst into tears. The nurse quickly left the room. Afterwards Lee told me that as she left, she had tears in her eyes. My Oncologist examined me and then very calmly started to tell me about my treatment plan.

Oncologist Mr, examined me and took out a measuring device, to measure for himself the size of my tumour. I liked him, as the way he talked made me feel comfortable. He went through my pathology report in detail, so I understood exactly what was going to happen to me.  I listened to him intently.

I was considered to have Grade II Advanced breast cancer and this was purely down to the size of the tumour. It was measuring approximately 80mm in diameter. Had it been smaller, had I pushed a year ago with 'Dr X' then this story may have been a totally different one, as the size back then felt to be no larger than a small pea.

I am also Oestrogen receptive positive. This means that as the hormones float by the cancer cells they attach themselves and once they are bound together, they send a signal that tells them to grow and divide. Hormone therapy can interrupt the flow of oestrogen to starve and kill the tumour .

Chemotherapy was going to be the first; this would hopefully reduce the size of the cancer before having surgery to remove my boob. I was given the choice between having the standard treatment or to go on a research study called the Neo-tAnGo. The standard treatment would involve six rounds of chemo every 3 weeks apart, with what is known as FEC (fluorouracil, epirubicin and cyclophosphamide.). The research study would involve having 4 cycles of the EC from the FEC followed by 4 cycles of Pacletaxol and hopefully a drug called Gemcitabine. A computer would choose at random the study that I would be in and whether I would receive the Gemcitabine or not. It all sounded very confusing to start off with, as I expected to be just told what chemo I would have, rather than having to make choices. What if I chose wrong, let’s face it, he's the expert, not me. In the end I opted for the Research. I chose this path for a couple of reasons. In my mind I thought that zapping these squatters with 2 extra rounds of chemo would get rid of more, also my oncologist told me that so far the response to the research was very promising and in some cases the tumour had shrunk that much that they had virtually disappeared, another reason in my mind was that I would get better treatment, watched more closely than being on a standard treatment. And I must say that the treatment and care that I have received to date has been tremendous.

My oncologist then started to tell me about the chemotherapy side effects, and as he did so he watched me continuously, taking in my expression and responses to each one.

"You will definitely lose your hair and pretty quickly." he said. I very calmly replied, "It’ll grow back won't it?" He explained to me about the cold cap and told me I could try it if I wished. The cold cap is a type of hat that has come straight from the freezer. To try this would mean sitting with it on for fifteen minutes before the chemotherapy to start restricting blood flow, and then kept on during and up to 1-2 hours after.  The cap would be changed every fifteen minutes throughout so that the temperature of my head would be kept at the correct freezing temperature. The downside to this is that my time at the hospital would be made much longer. He also explained that some people find it very uncomfortable and it can give quite bad headaches. "Does it work?" I asked. "Sometimes" he smiled. "Do you think it will work for me" I asked. Mr Oncologist looked at me, looked at my hair and in a very sincere and apologetic voice said "No".  I have very fine hair and even if I lost an eight of it I would look bald, and so I opted to lose it all. After all it WILL grow back.

The next on the agenda was the sickness. You hear the stories of how sick people get with chemotherapy, the nausea, the loss of appetite and the tremendous weight loss. My oncologist told me that I would feel fine on the day of the treatment but to expect to start feeling achy and tired after the first couple of days. I would be given anti sickness tablets, which I was told were very good, but on the chance that these did not work; I should speak up about it as there are other anti sickness tablets that I can try. I smiled at him and told him very calmly and very positively that I was not going to get sick. I truly believed that, plus I hate being sick. I don't do sick.

He then went on to talk about another side effect of the chemo. "The chemotherapy will put you into the menopause, and because of your age there is a chance that your menstrual cycle may never return." "That's ok" I said, "That is definitely one thing that I won't miss. I also came to terms with the fact that I can't have children years ago". I babbled on. "Also depending what they find when they investigate your right ovary, we may decide to remove your ovaries". He added. "Take them", I answered still smiling and at the same time shocking him with my attitude to the whole thing. "Like I said, I can't have children so I don't really have any use for them. And to me if I'm hormone receptive and you take them won't that mean that there are fewer hormones in my body". (I continued to babble) I didn't care; to me they could take my womb if they wanted to, do anything to get rid of these blooming squatters.

Everything was explained; every small detail and nothing he said could burst my bubble. I was confident and even though it was my first meeting with him. I had confidence in him too.  This I was surprised about, having gone through the ‘Dr X’ ordeal. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I never trusted another medical expert in my life.  Maybe it was because this Oncologist took time out to talk to me about what had happened and sympathized with me, that I took a liking to him  Or maybe it was just to do with him being him and downright  honest.  He explained to me that the chemo would take approximately 5 months so I would be looking at November for my surgery, (the day that I am so waiting for) which would then be followed by radiotherapy and 5 yrs of hormone treatment.

It was arranged that I would come back the following week to have my first biopsy done, and they would hopefully have a start date for my first chemo.

I was asked if I had any questions. My question and only question was "Can you get rid of it". His reply was a very good answer; "If you are asking me if we can get rid of it, then the answer is Yes, if you’re asking me if we can eliminate this cancer and it ever come back, 6 months, a year or even 10 years down the line, then my answer would be that there are no guarantees.  But we will do everything we can to try and prevent reoccurrence from happening". I thought that this answer was a very good one. He wasn't making any false promises; he was telling it how it was, which made me like this man even more.

As Lee and I left the hospital we were both on a high. Things were starting to get moving. Next week I would have some biopsies taken and I would get to know when I would start my chemotherapy. This for me couldn’t be soon enough. As far as I am concerned the sooner they start getting these drugs into my body the sooner it can start killing the cancer.

After our meeting with my oncologist I decided to take charge of things. I had, had the time to come to terms with the fact that I have cancer and believe it or not I was actually fine with it. It didn't bother me that I was going to have chemotherapy, all I knew is that I wanted rid of these blooming squatters and if that meant losing my hair, so what. So it was at this point that I had decided that I didn't want any negative people around me. I was being positive, and if I could be positive then surely the people around me could be positive too. Lee's positive attitude was definitely rubbing off on me.

On our way back from the hospital I rang my mum to tell her the good news of it being contained in the breast. I told her about the Chemo, the Mastectomy and about me asking them to do a bilateral mastectomy. My mum took that bit very hard. I explained my reasons and then said to her "Mum from now on I don't want anyone being negative. I need you to be strong. If I'm positive about it all, then surely you can be. But I am putting my foot down now and from this point on there are to be no more tears". My mum had gone quiet. "Pass the message on" I went on to say, "I don't want anyone being negative. I want people to be positive, think positive and from now on I don't have Breast Cancer, what I have is Squatters and that very shortly I WILL have them evicted". My mum started to laugh. I think with changing Cancer to Squatters, lightened the whole ordeal, took a bit of the worry load off my mum, cos hearing me say this, and the way I said it, proved to her that I am ok with all this cancer wooops squatter crap and what is going to happen to me treatment wise.

So there we have it, I now know the extent of things to come and I'm feeling very positive. I know I can beat this. It doesn't scare me anymore. I just can't wait to start the treatment and to be rid of these things inside me. I feel that if I have positive people around me, then I can feed off this and be even more positive myself. In my mind I think that this can kill some of the squatters off. This madness was my first part of getting rid of it and I truly believed and still believe that a lot has to be said for 'Mind over Matter'.

Results Are In

Back again in the old familiar waiting room of the Breast Clinic and holding on to Lee's hand, I tried to stay calm, my stomach churning and talk about butterflies, I think I had a full conservation in there. In my mind I was telling myself over and over again that it hadn't spread. I wanted to convince myself and I so much wanted it to be true. I was scared of what I might hear today but I didn’t let this fear take over me. I concentrated only on positive things. ‘It’s not spread, it’s not spread, I still kept telling myself, and willing myself for it to be true. It’s weird as even though I have sat in this waiting room several times before, I was now looking at other women and men, and wondering if they too had breast cancer, have they just been diagnosed like I have, are they just having a lump check out or having a routine mammogram. And if they have cancer, how long have they had it. Having a cancer diagnosis opens your eyes so much as not once have I ever been sat here and wondered why everyone else was sat there, never mind if they had breast cancer or not. Eventually after not being kept too long for once which today I am so grateful for 'Breast Nurse' came and called us into the consultation room. A different doctor walked in, he wasn't the same one who had given me the news that I had cancer and I wondered if it was because he didn't want to see us again after Lee frightened him half to death the last time. Today’s doctor I had seen before and no it wasn't 'Dr X', I don't think she dare face me and I wonder if she had been told of how angry I had become towards her on our last visit. It was nice to see a familiar face with this doctor. He has a kind face that always seems to be smiling, and back then I thought that this was just his 'put you at ease' face. But as I got to know him more I realized that he was just a very happy smiley person. When he laughed his whole face disappeared behind a huge, huge grin.

Anyway back to the important bit. My results! And Yeyyy, my Mr Smiley doctor got straight to it, he didn’t beat about the bush like the Doc I saw the last time, which both Lee and I liked and were very pleased about. "Well" he started; "your scan results showed that it hasn't spread to your liver". he smiled at us with his big smile. I smiled and nodded. He looked down to my file again from where my pathology report was. "It hasn't spread to your lungs either" he said looking up at both Lee and I, still smiling his great big smile and showing off his perfectly white teeth. I smiled even more but not once did I let go of Lee's hand. And still smiling Mr Smiley doctor carried on with the next bit on my pathology report. “The tests show that there is no evidence of any lymph node involvement at this point either”. Part of me was waiting for the catch, waiting for the bad bit. What about my bones, my brain or anywhere else that it can spread too. Holding tightly onto Lee's hand which i'm sure was going blue by now, I was still waiting for the catch, the moment when just one little word was gong to make my life turn upside down and make this whole breast cancer ordeal, a total different ball game. My Smiley doctor still kept smiling, he looked up at me and his smile turned even bigger. “and it hasn't spread to your bones" he said. Phew!! I thought. "So is it contained in the breast then?" I asked, he nodded and his whole face disappeared behind his huge grin once again. My smile was so big now and I was feeling so bloody giddy, feeling like I wanted to jump up and down for joy, That was it; That was the news that both Lee and I had been waiting to hear. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Lee did too, and we squeezed each other’s hand as acknowledgment that we both knew that everything was indeed going to be alright.

I said I felt like I was waiting for there to be a catch, and I was right. Mr Smiley doctor then went on to explain that the scan had shown up something on my right ovary, and at this point they could not tell what it was exactly. What does he mean? I just asked if it the cancer was contained in my breast but now he's talking about something on my ovary. Have I got cancer on my ovary too? He explained to us that it could be a normal cyst, or what they call a dermoid.“A dermoid” I asked?“ not knowing what the heck he was talking about. "The images are showing a mass that looks a little bit like it has teeth and bone in it, which leads us to believe that this could be the case” he told us. He explained to us that a dermoid is a bizarre tumour found in the ovary that contain a diversity of tissues, including hair, teeth, bone, thyroid etc and that they are usually benign. (Usually being the hanging on word here). And as if reading my mind my smiley doctor answered my question.“An appointment will be made for you to have an ultra sound at the gynaecology department; so that they can determine what it is” he said, and then added “We don’t think it’s anything to worry about” .Even though he said this, I was still a little concerned. Having cancer in my breast was enough cancer for anyone and now he had planted a seed in my head that I could also have it in my ovary.

It was then explained to me in brief about what treatment I am going to have. Because of my age and because I am fit and well they were going to throw everything they can at me. This is to include; chemotherapy, radiotherapy, mastectomy and anything else they can think of. Since the day that I was diagnosed Lee and I had discussed worse case scenarios and put positives to every negative. When the mastectomy was mentioned I looked at Lee, smiled then said, "When you do the mastectomy, can you take both off?” My doctor looked at me with a puzzled face! “Why?” he asked. The reason I gave is the reason I stuck to this all the way through. I did not want to have the worry of finding another lump that could also be cancerous; I wanted to do everything in my power to get rid of these bloody squatters, and everything I could to prevent anything like this happening to me again. My smiley doctor did his big smile routine at me and told me he understood my logic and so, after a good hour of talking, my file was inserted into an envelope and handed over to me. Lee and I were given instructions and some directions to go over to the Oncology department to meet my oncologist, who would be able to explain in more detail of what my treatment would involve.

We didn't have a clue where we were going, but I do remember that my smile did not leave my face. Anyone would have thought that we’d been told that I didn't have cancer and that they had made a huge mistake. It was such a relief that it hadn't spread and the findings on my ovary didn’t matter anymore either, as I was going to start chemotherapy so even if it was cancer then the chemo would kill that too. From this point on I would know what the next course of action would be. I was about to find out about the chemotherapy, the radiotherapy and still to me the most important bit; I would find out when I could get these squatters cut out of me. Lee and I didn't stop talking all the way to the department; we were giddy with excitement. We were so chatty and giddy that we got side tracked and ended up in the wrong department, of all the places we finished up in the Chemo Day Care unit. Was I that desperate to start the chemo? A nice nurse on the reception kindly pointed us in the right direction.

Having my file in my hand, I wanted to look at it. Well whatever was in the envelope that I held was all about me anyway so what would be the harm. I resisted as the envelope was sealed and couldn’t think how I would explain it being accidentally opened when I got to my Oncologist. I felt good and very positive about what lay ahead of me. I felt strong and I told myself and I told Lee that I was going to hold on to this feeling because I was going to beat this and I was again going to be cancer free.

CT Scan

At last the day has arrived for my CT scan.

This test should tell me if cancer has spread and to determine the size of the tumour as the ultra sound and mammogram only showed calcifications. I will be glad to get this bit over with so that I know the extent of things; it's frightening to think that there might be more cancer than I know of already. I was so nervous, what did a CT scan entail? Was it one of those scans that you’re completely covered, what if I get closterphobic? Here I go again, mind going into overdrive and creating questions. Get a grip girl it's only a scan and let's face it, after this I can start getting on with evacuating these bloody squatters that I have inside of me.

I had booked the day off work and because Lee is self employed we had asked Maureen if she would come along to the hospital with me so that Lee didn't have to lose out on a day’s work. We arrived at the hospital and were greeted at the reception desk by a big woman wearing a big white vest and a pair of black leggings, "Good Afternoon" she said, "now I'm going to give you a drink that you will have 50 minutes to drink. Would you like orange, grape or aniseed?" I opted for aniseed thinking it would taste like ouzo, not that I’m an alcoholic mind. A few minutes later the receptionist arrived with an enormous jug and a smile on her face just as big. "Make sure you drink it all" she laughed. Maureen set off giggling and reached for a magazine.

I thought wrong about it tasting like ouzo, in fact the only way I can describe it is being absolutely awful. It was one of them tastes that isn't so bad at first but leaves a very nasty aftertaste. As I started drinking it and pulling a face after every mouth full, Maureen laughing at me piped up as she pointed to an article in the magazine that she was holding!

"Now that's got to be inspiration for you”. There inside the magazine was a picture that filled the full page of Kylie Minogue promoting her new perfume. "Wow! She did look good; her hair was short, she really did suit it, she looked a picture of health and if people weren't aware that she had undergone treatment for breast cancer you wouldn't have given it a second thought. She looked absolutely amazing. This picture made me smile and at ease about what may lie ahead for me. "If she can do it and come out looking that good, then so can I. After all I might get away with just a bit of surgery and radiotherapy. Fingers crossed hey?

After being sat there for nearly the full 50 minutes and feeling very bloated from all of the liquid that I had been drinking, my name was called. My stomach doing the usual summersaults again I turned round to see the radiographer stood there. I quickly grabbed my jug to pour the last of my ouzo into my glass to try and gulp it down as quickly as possible as I stood up to follow him. Instantly liking him I followed him through to the room where they were to do the scan. He had let me off with the last of my wonderfully tasteful drink.

As I followed him down the corridor it got colder and colder, I was dressed in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a vest. My tracksuit top I had left in the waiting area as I was told that no metal objects were allowed in the scan room and it contained a metal zip. The radiographer told me that they had to keep it nice and cool, as the CT scan got very hot.

We arrived at some double doors and we slowly entered. In the middle of the floor was a machine that resembled a giant donut with a long trolley bed going through the middle of it. I was told to lie on the bed and while holding on to the little guardian angel that Lauren had sent me as tight as I could, I climbed up onto it and laid myself down as comfortably as the trolley bed would allow.

The radiographer pulled a trolley up close to where I lay, that had all sorts of gadgets on it, and was piled up the sides with little draws and compartments. I was shivering through a combination of the cold and nerves. Pressing and prodding my hand the radiographer told me he was going to find my bestest vein to put a cannula needle into. What! I wasn’t told anything about any needle going to be stuck into me.“Sharp scratch” he said. Ouch it felt more like an arm amputation. I could feel the needle wriggling deep into my vein and felt like my whole hand was going to explode. A spirally tube that hung on a big arm above me was attached to the cannula in the back of my hand, and I had to raise both my arms above my head. Carefully and slowly I raised my arms as told, making sure that I didn't snag or bend the needle that was now protruding profusely out of my arm. The radiographer explained to me that the bed would pass through the donut several times and that they would talk to me through a speaker from the adjoining room. With that, he gone, leaving me there alone in a very cold room strapped to a great big scary donut.

The trolley bed moved all the way through the donut and on returning a voice from the speaker told me to take a deep breath in and hold it. This was repeated another 2 times and then the radiographer came back into the room. He had come back into the room to inject a dye from the spirally tube into my arm through the cannula needle, and explained that I would get a warm sensation run through my body and down below. I was a bit nervous because I thought this warm sensation was going to burn and I had no idea what he meant when he said down below. You know what doctors are like; they tell you that something is painless and when it comes to it, it hurts like hell. I started to feel a nice warm feeling run through my body and then; 'No! No I can't have done' I thought, and then started to blush. The feeling of warmth reached down to between my legs. Is this the feeling what he was talking about or was I actually doing it? I felt like I was actually peeing myself. 'Oh come on! You know what I'm talking about all of you out there who have had one of these scans. It's a really weird sensation isn't it? The man must have seen me blushing, and starting to laugh "that's a normal feeling" he said, as he walked out of the room again telling me to keep lying still.

I was passed through the big donut several more times. Holding breath, Breath normal... How the heck they expect you to breath normal is beyond me when your that much out of puff from not getting the air into your lungs from holding your breath too long is way beyond me. The machine made a very weird buzzing and clicking noise. Why is it that when you're told to lay very still your nose always starts to itch. Well! This itch developed into a proper muscle spasm face twitch. Holding breath, Breath Normal, Nose irritating itch getting way out of control and having to concentrate now on keeping my arm from moving, raising up and giving my damn nose a right good old scratching... Ooh yeah, got to concentrate on the Holding Breath and Breath normal palarva.

After a few more minutes the man came back into the room, disconnected me from the tube, took the needle out of my hand and told me I was free to go. I was so relieved and immediately gave my nose a really good scratching. As I sat up to get off the couch I obviously and very discretely looked down between my legs just to make sure that there was no wet patch and I hadn't peed myself. And if you're wondering! No I hadn't.

There was nothing to it, having this scan, but I was hoping that there would have been some kind of monitor in there somewhere , so that I could have seen what they were seeing. As if I would have known what I was looking at anyway. Leave it to the experts hey?

I walked back into the waiting area with a big pleased smile on my face. Maureen was still sat with her nose stuck deep into her magazine. "Are you ready?" I asked her. She looked up, smiled and amazed said "Is that it? Are you done?" "Yup" I said as we both leisurely walked out of the hospital, both smiling from ear to ear.

Today wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. And I now realise that there is no point on dwelling on something that you know absolutely nothing about. They say to take each day at a time well I am going to , and I'm also going to take each hurdle as it comes. From this day forward I am not going to dwell and I'm not going to worry. What is the point in worrying when you don't even know if there is anything to worry about? I felt happier today. Earlier I said that I felt like I was in a bad dream. Well I'm not. This is reality, I have breast cancer and I am not going to lie down and let it take over me. I am in charge here not the cancer. This is my body and I will do everything I can to protect it.

Only 5 more days now until I know what is what, and what the course of action will be, to get rid of these bloody squatters....

Coming to Terms

Later that evening Lee and I were laid on the sofa watching the TV. Well Lee was watching and I was trying to watch. My mind was going into overdrive about everything that had happened that day and the day that the awful 'Dr X' had been so rude and awful to me, when all of a sudden it dawned on me that I had Cancer and that ’Cancer Can Kill'. I started to cry once again but this time it hurt. I felt that I couldn't breathe and honestly didn't think that I would stop. Lee held me tight trying to console me, telling me to let it all out, and that we could get through this, telling me to be strong. "I don't want it" I cried "Why me? What have I done so wrong to deserve this? It's the not knowing, why can't they just cut it out and be done with it. 'What if' its spread and why can’t they just cut it out"? I was gabbling again. too much stuff going around inside my head way too quickly. Lee always knows how to put things into perspective. "I know it's hard, but for the time being, let's try not to dwell on things and then before you know it we'll know what's what". He was right, but how do you not dwell on things when you know that you have something growing inside you that is a potential killer. With the waiting for the tests how do we know that in that short space of time that this killer isn’t growing and spreading, spreading out of control. Right now I am not in control; the doctors and nurses have the control now and I have to accept and believe in them that they are doing the right thing for me to be able to be rid of this disease. I have to put faith in them and be positive that everything will be alright. Lee and I cuddled and hugged for what seemed like ages and after I'd stopped crying we both immediately started to laugh. What a sight I looked; my eyes were so red and puffed up it looked like I'd been in a boxing ring with Mike Tyson. I did feel better though.

The week went by in a blur, I remember there being lots of talking and lots and lots of positives coming from Lee and the people around me. I felt positive, I also felt scared and angry. Angry at ‘Dr X’ for treating me like a paranoid old woman. I am 39 yrs old for goodness sake and obviously I wasn’t paranoid as it’s turned out that this lump is cancer. I sometimes feel scared as now and then it pops into my head that cancer is a killer but as soon as I start to think these thoughts I tell myself not to be silly and that I will beat this thing which is where my positive side comes back in. The main thing that I hang on to at this point is that breast cancer is one of the most curable cancers that there is. I am trying to carry on as normal as possible, after all there isn’t much I can do but to wait it out and see what the doctors have in store for me after seeing what my CT scan reveals. I have to be positive and something deep inside is telling me that being positive will not allow this thing to beat me.

First day back at work was hard, I was so nervous, I was dreading it, dreading it mostly because I didn't want to cry in front of everyone. Do I tell work or do I just say nothing? If I tell them will I break down and cry? Will they ask me questions; I am asking myself questions all the time and don’t know the answers too. What treatment will I need? Will they be able to just cut it out and have a bit of radiotherapy like Lauren had or will I have to have chemotherapy too? Oh my god!! Will I lose my hair? There were dozens of questions going around in my head. Why can't I just wave a magic wand to magically give me the answers? Better still! Why can't I wave that magic wand and magic the cancer away. I feel like I'm in a bad bad dream that I can't wake up from.

In the end I made the decision to tell my work colleagues, and to do this myself. I didn't want anyone else doing it for me. I wanted to do this as I felt that by talking about it I was accepting it and I wanted them to see that I was ok to talk about it. Hopefully by doing it this way they wouldn't tip toe around me. The last thing I wanted was to walk into a room and everyone to go quiet very quickly, obviously because they were talking about me. I didn't want to be treated any different. I wanted to carry on with my life. I wanted to be normal and not the ‘She’s the one with Cancer’.

As I walked into the office on that Monday morning Elsa looked up at me from where she was sat at her desk! I walked straight into the kitchen area to make a cup of tea and to pull myself together, ready to start the task ahead. Elsa followed me! "How are you"? She asked. It's laughable isn't it? What do they want to hear when people ask that? "Oh I'm on top of the world, I've just been diagnosed with cancer and it’s not bothering me one little bit? Or for you to go into full detail of how you truly are, about how scared you are, that the not knowing is killing you and that you could burst into tears at any time? Nope! The thing is I don't think half the people who ask that question could cope with a truthful answer! So! You answer in a way that you know that they can cope with. "I'm fine". But with Elsa, I felt like she was asking that question because she was genuinely concerned and wanted to be there for me, so I talked to her, I told her how the weekend had been, I told her how scared I was, about the CT scan that was booked for the 24th and that I just wanted to get this thing cut out and be done with it. Elsa asked me what I wanted to do about telling the others, did I want them to know and if so; did I want her to tell them or did I want to tell them myself. The only person that she had told was the Managing Director who will be known as Terry throughout my story, Elsa told him as she had a duty to do. I thanked her for that. Telling the others wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I told each person one by one as I took their morning cup of tea round. At no point did I cry when doing so and surprised myself at how strong and positive I was. Everyone was so supportive.

Why is it though; when you tell people in general that you have breast cancer that their gaze goes into automatic pilot to your chest? It’s as though they are looking to figure out which one it is as though they think they can actually see it. On one occasion, which I must point out is not a work colleague actually looked at my chest and then asked me "which one?" That is so laughable don't you think? As if it really matters which one. Anyway everyone at work carried on with the day-to-day activities and spoke to me as if nothing had happened, a few asked me questions and I was fine with this. I remember there being only one member of staff who couldn't talk to me and it wasn't that he couldn't talk to me about the cancer but he couldn't talk to me full stop. We were supposed to be going through some work stuff and went into the meeting room to go through the details of the document that we were working on. I remember him looking a bit uneasy and then!! "I'm sorry" he said "I just can't talk to you right now; I don't know what to say, can we do this later?" I nodded and he then left the meeting room. I stood there in utter shock. I had breast cancer for god sake not leprosy. I felt put out, I felt uneasy and hurt and it was at this moment that I realised that things were going to be very different for me. It’s amazing of how people look upon you when they know that you have breast cancer, it’s the word cancer that gets to them and I have noticed that even though I myself can say the word now, other people just can’t bring themselves around to saying ‘Cancer’ if they do their voice lowers to a gentle whisper as they say this one word, it’s as though by saying it they will get it. The day went really slow and I had to work very hard to keep my thoughts of the cancer out of my mind, I did on one occasion have to leave the office for a bit of a cry. A bit! More like the Niagara Falls pouring down my cheeks. Elsa followed me, "Come on" she said, "You're stronger than this". She was so good and so positive and eventually I started to feel much better. Our talking turned to a more light hearted conversation where we both finished up laughing.

The next day after Lee had left for work and I was left on my own for the first time after being told that I had cancer it fully hit me and I found myself fighting back the tears. I know I had a moment on my own yesterday morning while getting ready, but my mind was so set on being in 'full strong mode' as I had a task to get through and that task being telling them at work. But today I didn't have that I was sat there drinking my morning coffee and getting ready for work and the tears came flooding in. After a good hour of trying to put my makeup on and failing miserably; I rang work. I couldn't face going into work today.

The day was spent with lots of tears and I found myself wanting to find out what actually happens to someone who has been diagnosed with breast cancer. I had to know, I had to prepare myself for what may be ahead for me. I switched on my computer and started researching. What treatment will I need? Will I need Chemotherapy? Will I lose my hair? Will I need a mastectomy, if I do what will I look like? Again my mind was filling up with questions. I came across a website called 'Breast Cancer Care' in which I read through the some of the forums (discussion site) and at the end of it I felt like a huge mountain had been lifted from my shoulders. You see! There were women on there at the same stage as me and there were women on there who were diagnosed years and years ago. The main thing was! They are still here, still alive and living life to the full. Being there for one another and helping each other through this difficult time. That's when I took a hold on things. I decided to take control! So what! I thought! I have breast cancer, I'm not the first and I won't be the last. Research and treatments have come a long way and I am NOT going to let this thing beat me. I WILL get rid of it.

Over this first week I received numerous phone calls and cards all wanting to wish me luck. Sending their love and support and telling me that I can beat it. Lee came home one day with an envelope in his hand and inside was a card and a little wooden box. The card read;

To Karen,

Just to let you know I'm thinking of you and know you are going to be strong. I am sending you my guardian angel for the next few weeks, take her with you. She will look after you; she has never let me down and I think you need a bit of luck.

I'm here for a chat, a cry, a moan, a question, anything. Just Call.

Sending you tons of positive vibes.

Lauren

I opened the tiny wooden box and through tearful eyes there inside was the most beautiful little guardian angel I have ever seen. Lain in the box on a silky bed she had been hand carved from a single piece of rose quartz and stood about four and a half centimetres high. It was so touching and even though Lauren had not intended to make me cry her kind gesture had done just that. I put the tiny angel gently back in her box and put it straight into my bag so that she would be with me everywhere and every time I went to the hospital. Some people think it weird and some people think it's nice of the way Lauren and I get on because she is Lee’s ex. I think this has brought us even closer and I class her as one of my dearest friends.

It seems that I was in desperate need for a guardian angel. My mum, my grandmother and Maureen added to the collection. So all in all I have received 4 beautiful guardian angels all of different size, shape and colour to watch and guide me through this journey in life. .

A little poem that I came across I think of it always and find comfort and strength in its words:

When Angels sense you need them,
And Angels always do ...
They come, unseen, from everywhere
To help and comfort you.

hey hover close beside you
Till all your cares are gone,
Till they can see you're ready
Once again to carry on.

Then some of them may fly away
And take their gentle touch,
To other hearts that need
The love of Angels very much.

But one, at least, stays with you
As your constant friend and guide,
For GUARDIAN ANGELS never leave,
They're always at your side.