Thrown in the deep end....

... without a snorkel or so it felt!

After such a quick diagnosis there was no time to worry or do any scary internet research. Looking back this was probably a good thing. Mr Bad Fairy and I shed a few tears and had no choice but to move on and deal with this new life that had been forced on us. Life goes on doesn't it? Being optimists we were determined to seek out, no matter how deeply they were buried, any tiny little positive moments along with any hint of something which might raise a giggle at a later date. (See? Positive thoughts .... there will be a later date!)

So there we were meeting the oncologist for the first time on a Monday. On Wednesday I was hooked up to an IV pump having the first of ten weekly doses of Taxol. What a strange new world!

Daft as it sounds I was quite pleased to be starting this journey with my vivid yellowness. Logic says that if the chemo started to work then the tumours would shrink and the yellowness would fade. It worked! Family and friends could slowly see a difference on the outside which reflected the changes on the inside.

Nine weeks later and I was flat on my back in the CT scanner to check on progress. Yeah hey! On average an 80% reduction in tumour sizes. It was working!
The plan was to have three more doses on a three weekly cycle. The last one was cancelled and I'm now on Arimidex tablets and Zoladex implant/jabs whilst waiting for an appointment to discuss having my ovaries removed.

Another CT scan (last week) showed that things had remained unchanged except for on my bones .... bones? No one had mentioned bones before. It seems that on the previous scan there were a couple of spots on my spin but as it was a CT scan and not a bone scan it wasn't obvious what these "spots" were so they didn't tell me. Seems that on the latest scan there has been a noticeable change which could be new bone growth resulting from the effects of the chemo. This new revelation now means a three weekly trip to the chemo unit for IV Zometa to strengthen my bones.
So there you go, that's where I am (medically) today only five months into this journey! Mr Bad Fairy keeps reminding me that I never did like being predictable and that I've always been impulsive rather than taking things at a leisurely pace!!

The story begins ......

... towards the end of June 2009.

As happens frequently at primary schools the dreaded lergy was doing the rounds. My two children seemed to have avoided it along with myself and my husband. That was until I got up on the Monday and felt a bit queasy. Needless to say I was a bit miffed to still be feeling a bit "off" by the end of the week, usually bouncing back from these things quite quickly ... and was quite unnerved to discover a tinge of yellow in my eyes the next Monday morning. By the following Monday I looked like I was doing a very bad impression of a canary and had grown a hard lump at the top of my breast. I know the lump wasn't there the week before because I'd checked just before I noticed the yellow tinge in my eyes.

Off to the GPs I went .... after checking exactly where the surgery was being such an infrequent visitor! Little did I realise what lay ahead. I'd convinced myself that my canary yellow appearance was due to nothing more alarming than a wedged gallstone (not that I'd ever had them!) and the breast lump would be just one of those things that would go away as quickly as it appeared. Luckily for me my GP wasn't happy to leave me yellow for any length of time and arranged for an ultrasound within days and a two week referral to the breast clinic.

The ultrasound caused concern and I was admitted to the local hospital the next Monday (why is it always a Monday?) for a CT scan and an endoscopy booked for the Tuesday. The endoscopy didn't happen but that's another story for another day. The CT scan was enough and on the Thursday the liver chap mumbled, very apologetically, that it wasn't a stray gallstone it was cancer. Secondary breast cancer to be exact ... "Oh and there are a couple of bits on your lungs". Friday, a rushed appointment with the breast specialist, quick biopsy taken just to confirm they were (officially) right and then a bizarre conversation with a Breast Care Nurse (yet another story for another day!) and an appointment with an oncologist arranged for the Monday.

Where did that come from?? I'm 40, never been ill ... still don't feel ill, maybe a bit less energetic than normal but nothing to worry about and now here I am an official cancer patient who is "manageable" but not curable......