tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28105663003796064692024-03-13T12:52:57.477-07:00Finding humour in my tumourWelcome to 'Operation Kick Cancer's Ass'. This blog might make you laugh, cry, be scared, be confronting but it is a honest account of what happened when my life was highjacked by breast cancer at 34. I hope that you laugh more than you cry, and I hope it educates people that young women get breast cancer too. For the people who are reading this and currently being treated for cancer - good luck with your own Operation Kick Cancer's Ass.KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-50708666934282317712014-04-09T03:12:00.002-07:002014-04-09T03:12:43.389-07:00Two years ago today...<br />
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Hi I am Lisa Lum and my younger and only sister Karen (37) died from breast cancer two years ago today.<br /><br />Time does not heal it just puts distance between the memories of the hospital suite, the pain she suffered, the last days, the giving up of hope for recovery in exchange for acceptance of a new reality of life without Karen.<br /><br />How are we doing? Life is not as full without her. There is joy mixed with sadness when looking at photos of her. It is hard to hear when the kids say they don't remember her as much. As a family we try and look after each other's pain and sadness. For her friends we try and understand what it is like to have a lost a best friend. And she was a great one!<br /><br />We try and imagine a life without breast cancer in it and Aunty Karen growing old with the rest of us! <br /><br />We will walk on Mother's Day - me, my husband Craig, and our 3 kids and we will fundraise to help them find a cure for this disease that has robbed our lives of the joy that was Karen and changed our lives forever.<br /><br />If you wish to join us and wear a uniform - please contact me - Lisa Lum (Karen's sister) lisa_lum@aapt.net.au. Caps are $20 posted with a tribute card to pin to your shirt. Wear a white tshirt and camel cargos.<br /><br />If you wish to donate to our team's fundraising efforts a donation does not need to be grand - the cost of a hot chocolate, an espresso martini, a rum and coke, Ralph Lauren polo shirt, Kate Spade cocktail ring, Air ticket to anywhere... Some things that she loved!<br />
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<a href="http://mdc.mothersdayclassic.com.au/fundraising.php?id=17851">http://mdc.mothersdayclassic.com.au/fundraising.php?id=17851</a><br /><br /><br />Thanks to everyone who is thinking of our family at this time. <br />As Karen would say, "It is cryworthy."<br /><br />A sister with a heavy heart but on a mission to save other people's sisters and Rock Star Aunties!<br /><br />Lisa Lum<br />Captain - Karen's Army <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-26321127090978357582013-04-08T20:08:00.000-07:002013-04-08T20:08:27.046-07:00We remember her...What can we do?<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today we remember Karen - who passed away a year ago today.</div>
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We remember her in the way we knew her best - comfortable in her designer shoes and packing a whole life into half the time!</div>
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Here are some of my favourite photos of her that remind me how full of life she was. It is really hard not to miss her.</div>
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My daughter Lucy has her hands, so does my cousin Melissa which makes me feel like she has left part of her here with us. Hands to hold!<br />
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After a year without her and feeling that she made it to Heaven I feel that Heaven is on the other side of an invisible curtain right in front of us.</div>
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She has appeared in people's dreams with her hair back - long and straightened, texted iphones, sent cuddles through friend's dreams and spoken through mediums. Many people have felt her presence or had signs from her.</div>
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All the messages and feelings we have received are that she got there safely and she is watching over all of us.</div>
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I often wonder how she feels looking through the invisible curtain and seeing how sad we are.</div>
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Would she be sad?</div>
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How would she want us to go on? </div>
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Sadly - with chocolate? </div>
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Sulking - watching Pride and Prejudice?</div>
Or living life to full as she did - whether she could afford to or not?<br />
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I think we all know the answer but it is not always that easy!<br />
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I find solace in action. I need to know that there is something I can do to prevent this happening to someone else's sister.<br />
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Last year we reaised $12,700 towards breast cancer research. Last year we did something to help the cause.<br />
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This year we are trying to help all over again - with Karen's Army Team walking the Mother's Day Classic in May. <br />
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Please sponsor us here via this link.<br />
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<a href="https://register.eventarc.com/sponsor/view/171214">https://register.eventarc.com/sponsor/view/171214</a><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R0ccSewJbnU/UWN8MhBxhEI/AAAAAAAAACA/Jwym_6ftbSQ/s1600/Karen+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R0ccSewJbnU/UWN8MhBxhEI/AAAAAAAAACA/Jwym_6ftbSQ/s1600/Karen+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a>We are fundraising again to help others. <br />
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Please join us or sponsor us - I am walking with my family and many of her friends and our friends.</div>
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A donation does not need to be grand - the cost of a hot chocolate, an expresso martini, a rum and coke, Ralph Lauren polo shirt, Kate Spade cocktail ring, Air ticket to anywhere...</div>
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So many memories but each one however small will help someone.</div>
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If you wish to join us and wear a uniform - please contact me - Lisa Lum (Karen's sister)</div>
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<a href="mailto:lisa_lum@me.com">lisa_lum@me.com</a>.</div>
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Thanks to everyone who is thinking of our family at this time. We are all ok - but as Karen would say, "It is cryworthy."</div>
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With love and longing,</div>
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Lisa Lum</div>
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<br />KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-22238355356947176292013-03-11T14:45:00.002-07:002013-03-11T14:56:01.677-07:00Karen's Army declares War on Breast Cancer!<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Hi I am Lisa Lum and my sister Karen (37) died of breast cancer last year.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My husband Craig, my daughters Lucy and
Daisy and son George are all walking the 4.5km Mother’s Day Classic, Brisbane
on Mother’s Day to raise money for the National Breast Cancer Foundation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We invite you to join <b>Karen’s
Army</b> to walk with us, and fundraise and help us <b>Declare War on Breast
cancer</b>!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This is the link to the Mother's Day Classic website to register to join us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><a href="http://www.mothersdayclassic.com.au/register-online">http://www.mothersdayclassic.com.au/register-online</a></span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><o:p>If you can't join us and would like to support us, here is the link to sponsor us.</o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><a href="https://register.eventarc.com/sponsor/view/171214" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">https://register.eventarc.com/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>sponsor/view/171214</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /> </span> </span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Karen was diagnosed just before her 35th birthday and was treated (we thought)
successfully until they found a 1 inch tumour growing in her brain at the time
of her 2 year check up. She received radiation treatment for the brain tumour
and it was not successful. The tumour returned and the cancer infiltrated her
spinal cord and brain stem. She was hospitalised for not being able to walk,
within days could not feed herself and within a month she passed away not being
able to speak or swallow or move. For anyone who knew Karen this was her worst
nightmare. Actually it was even worse than that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My sister was awesome. She was funny and dry witted and had literally hundreds
of friends who loved her like a sister! She was the best Aunty in the world.
She loved food, her dog Barney, expresso martinis, Bundy Rum, The Reds - in
particular Mr Greg Holmes who came to visit her after her brain tumour
operation and walked her down the aisle as her pall bearer - "We love Greg
Holmes"!, her Mini Cooper, her freedom, her nieces and nephews, her
family, her friends, her home, handbags, clothes and shoes, shoes, shoes!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">As her family we still cannot believe she is gone and we are struggling to come
to terms with losing her, trying to work out why she died, not scientifically
but philosophically. Why this is this her story? What will be her legacy?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This is where we will start: Trying to raise money to stop other sisters,
daughters, cousins, mothers, wives and girlfriends from being stripped of life
one sense at a time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">All we can do is raise money for research, remember her and try to save others.
For Karen - there is nothing we can do about the fact that she is gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She has never wanted this disease to define her and she has kept an amazing
blog diary of her journey up until she could not longer type about 1 month
before she passed away. Finding humour in my tumour expresses the inexplicable
emotions that challenged her every step of her journey with breast cancer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Karen,</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Your were so brave and strong.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>We hope you are at peace. </em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>We feel your presence every day.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>We are your Army and we will still fight for you.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>We love you Karen and miss you every day.<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lisa Lum (Karen Pandy's big sister)<br />
<b>General </b></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b>Karen's Army</b></span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Community Ambassador </span></span></b><br />
<b><span lang="EN" style="color: #666666; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">MDC2013</span></span></b></div>
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KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-47069610727717768252012-04-30T03:37:00.002-07:002012-04-30T03:37:45.767-07:00The journey ends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cOqMOeSeb-A/T55njLudDJI/AAAAAAAAABA/-IMpAFKdAeY/s1600/karen+pandy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="269" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cOqMOeSeb-A/T55njLudDJI/AAAAAAAAABA/-IMpAFKdAeY/s320/karen+pandy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
Hi faithful followers of Karen's finding humour in my tumour blog. For those who don't know - Karen lost her battle with her tumour on Easter Monday night April 9th, 2012<br />
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She had been in hospitalised a week after her last post as the cancer was aggrivating her central nervous system and she could not longer walk and had minimal strength in both her upper and lower body.<br />
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Karen's condition worsened slowly over the last few weeks and throughout her treatment she and we her family were ever hopeful. They changed her treatment plan midway as they feared the original one was not working. Her stay in hospital was filled with visitors, watching MKR, using her phone to keep in touch with as many people as possible until she could not longer text. <br />
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She was brave and strong and I don't believe she was scared. It was Good Friday when it was obvious to us her last chance treatment was not working and by Sunday morning she was sleeping without waking up.<br />
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Her last night was Monday night and all her family and dearest friends were around her. We had dinner, some wine and sat around her chatting about her and remembering the better times. It felt like the last group of "stayers" after a great party all sitting around the table. I didn't think she would go with a party going on around her. We had to leave the room for the nurses to tend to her and when we got back she had turned her final corner and with us all there around her she passed away peacefully after only a few minutes.<br />
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Her funeral was on the Friday 13th April and was a great celebration of her life. She had lived 2 lives in her 37 years and had had a great time. I don't feel she would have had many regrets.<br />
Over 500 people came to say goodbye. Greg Holmes walked her down the aisle as a pall bearer for her. Expresso Martinis were served at her wake. I helped my brother Shaun organise the funeral and wake and know she would have been happy!<br />
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I am Lisa, her sister and have been overwhelmed by how she touched so many people throughout her life - through her day to day interactions, inspiration and this blog.<br />
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Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive and kind to us over these last few weeks - they have been hard and the hard times are not over.<br />
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I am running in the Mother's Day Classic in her honour this year and from next year I will organise a team to walk for the Mother's Day Classic - with our Mother and her army of friends. I will keep her facebook account alive to communicate with her army.<br />
If you would like to donate to Chicks in Pink to help support breast cancer sufferers like Karen please go to <br />
<br />
<a href="https://register.eventarc.com/sponsor/view/85896/lisa-lum">https://register.eventarc.com/sponsor/view/85896/lisa-lum</a><br />
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I have posted her eulogy written by our older brother, Shaun and then by Sam Miller - her friend who represents her Army of friends.<br />
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If anyone needs to contact her family - please contact me Lisa Lum, on <a href="mailto:lisa_lum@aapt.net.au">lisa_lum@aapt.net.au</a>.<br />
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Thank you,<br />
Lisa<br />
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<span class="MsoBookTitle"><strong><span><span style="color: #17365d;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Eulogy<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whenever I have been called upon to
say a few words at a wedding or a birthday, I would always <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">run my speech</b> past Karen. I could always rely on her to give me her
honest opinion, so I hope she approves of this one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If there ever was an <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">emotive speech</b> to deliver or story to
be read, in our family, Karen was the only one with enough composure to bring
it home. However, I think Karen would say on <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>this occasion, ‘this is a very cry worthy
situation and it is definitely worth a tear or two million.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Karen</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> was born on the 11<sup>th</sup> of September at the Mater
Mother’s, the youngest of four children. Karen was always our baby sister and
she enjoyed a very close relationship with each of her siblings.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We had an <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">idyllic upbringing</b>. We had many days playing together in the
backyard or the pool, mum cooking big family dinners and we were treated to long
beach holidays. Karen used to ride to the Coast in the boot of Dad’s station wagon
with the luggage and the dog. Her mode of transport changed since, Karen bought
her own car and rode in the driver’s seat with the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">dog.</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen attended primary school where
she made many friends for herself and her parents. She often fondly recalled
learning about the titanic in year 3 and later on she submitted an essay called
‘No drums and no trumpets’. You would think a statement about Karen’s attitude
towards people ‘banging on’ or ‘trumpeting themselves’. But no, it was a story about
the mysterious murder of Shirley Shirley and just didn’t feature a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">drum or a trumpet.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She then went on to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">an all girls high school</b>, where she
learnt the value of true friendship, loyalty and acceptance and Sam Miller will
speak about those days in a moment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Following school, Karen commenced her
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">chef’s apprenticeship</b> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and went on to complete her training successfully.
The hours were long and included weekend nights. So totally un Karen. She had
said that her intensive training had drained her love of cooking. Ironically
later on, Karen was to become a huge fan and discerning judge of Master Chef
and My Kitchen rules. Watching MKR became such an important part of her evening
routine in her final weeks. Karen never cooked much at home; I suspect she
didn’t like the high pressure of Mum’s Kitchen’s Rules.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen then made a brave move to opt
out of cooking and went <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">back to school</b>
externally. With the support of Mum and Dad, she was able to gain a place to
study in Marketing and Public relations. She earned her degree and gained
employment there for a while.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen then got a job with an <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">international recruitment agency</b>. Her
talents were soon recognised there and she was selected to be in their world
wide top 50 recruiters which was a tremendous honour and was sponsored to a
conference in Cambodia.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen always lived her <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">life in the moment</b>, she lived fully, she
lived freely and she was comfortable in her own skin. She was not encumbered by
a mortgage, was unconcerned by her finances and she had a job that she enjoyed.
She was loved by her family, her army of friends and her colleagues.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen was devoted her <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">nephews and nieces</b> as if they were her
own children. I am sure they will greatly miss their Aunty Karen. She deeply mourned
the loss of her new baby nephew, who she’ll now be united with in heaven.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen loved her dog. Not everyone,
including me, thought that cleaning up poop was a great thing to be doing
whilst on chemo, but in the end he was a great companion and comfort to Karen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen was the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">life of the party</b>. Her confident vibrant nature and smile would
light up the room. She could put people at ease with a friendly comment or a
kind gesture. She was very funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
wit could be very dry or self deprecating and she had that big loud crazy
laugh. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Making friends</b> came easily Karen
but she treasured each friendship. Whenever you had a conversation with Karen,
you had a sense that she was with you, that she was listening and that she really
cared. She was always at the ready to offer a shoulder to cry on, comforting
words or wise counsel. She literally would drive thousands of kilometres to
offer practical assistance to any of her close friends and family in need. She also
helped feed the homeless at St Vincent de Pauls kitchen, provided counselling
at the refugee centre and took meals to Brisbane’s flooded. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen was <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">stylish</b>; she loved designer clothes and shoes. I am told that she
had a pair of Fendy shoes that despite the discomfort they caused, were her
favourites. The point of putting up with that is little lost on me. Karen was
merciless with her critique of my own fashion sense, particularly my recently
retired pair of circa 1990’s aviator sun glasses.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen was <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">fearless. </b>I recently reminisced with Karen about one trip up the
coast we did together. Unfortunately, half the way up the Bruce, I ran out of
petrol. It was in the days before any of us had mobile phones. After politely
informing me that she regretted my oversight, she promptly turned on her heal,
took a few paces up the road, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">stuck out
her thumb</b> and hitched a lift with a passing car. At that moment, I was
wondering how I would explain this to mum and was quite relieved when she reappeared
some time later with a RACQ van. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen loved to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">travel</b>. She was charged with escorting my Grandmother’s ashes to
South Africa and was going to be funded for the journey. Karen being Karen
booked an around the world ticket to Africa via the US, Canada and London.
Apparently, they had a ball. If Granny can guide her through Johannesburg
airport, the Pearly gates will be easy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sadly, soon after another trip away,
this time to South America’s Inca trail, Karen’s life imploded with the
discovery of a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">breast lump</b> which
turned out to be cancer. She wasn’t sure what was worse at the time, the
diagnosis or Lisa in an attempt to cheer her up, took her to see the movie,
Twilight. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Karen’s subsequent surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> were a
tremendous ordeal for Karen, our family and particularly my mother. When her
hair fell out Karen was devastated. However, she was able to soon see the funny
side and she planted a picture of Kojak on her facebook page. However, not so
funny was when dad would get the two of us mixed up. Karen carried her families
and friends worries with her optimism and wry sense of humour. Karen was able
continue to work in the weeks between her recovery week and more chemotherapy. She
reclaimed her social life and got her eggs harvested with hopes for starting her
own a family sometime in the future.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Her wit and determination have been
captured forever in her Blog <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">‘Finding
Humour in my tumour’</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It featured as
the cover story on the Brisbane’s City News Magazine (Karen looked very cool on
the cover), and the ABC website’s Health section. I am sure it inspired many women
fighting breast cancer, particularly single women, as well as her family and
friends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Many of us will remember how Karen
often delighted in playing the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Cancer
Card. </b>It<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>would guarantee her the
front seat of the car, get her out of washing up after Christmas dinner and she
used it to get her a picture with Alf from Home and Away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen was a mad <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Reds</b> fan before it was fashionable and
she never missed a game. Her favourite player for many years was Greg Holmes.
She greatly admired his loyalty to Queensland and his ability to smash ‘em. I
remember when she attended their last game at Ballymore, it was raining and
muddy. It was just a few days post a round of chemotherapy, her immunity was
low, she had a fever and mum was unable to persuade her to stay home. As I
said, Mad. Over the years, I think she was just as passionate about the 3<sup>rd</sup>
half in the corner bar and then to the 4<sup>th</sup> on Caxton Street.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Unfortunately, just as Karen was
finishing her chemotherapy, the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Global
Financial crisis</b> saw the end of her Brisbane office, and Karen was out of a
job. Karen climbed out of her sick bed and attended about 10 job interviews
before she was employed by the Specialist recruiting firm. . Her employers and the
whole team clearly loved Karen. They regarded her as a dedicated, enthusiastic
and intelligent team member. They tell me her quick wit and charm engaged the
most discerning executive and would often lead to a successful hunt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understand she entertained the team each
morning with tales of her nocturnal adventures; such as Tuesday trivia,
Thursday Bundy’s, and Friday’s Expresso Martini’s.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Towards the end of last year,
Karen’s Portacath was removed. This was a device via which her chemotherapy
could be delivered. Her hair was growing long again and things were returning
to some normality. A bit niggling neck discomfort and a sudden severe headache and
nausea was the result of the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">cancer
spreading to her brain </b>which required urgent surgery. Brave Karen bounced
back from the surgery remarkably quickly and she was released from hospital in
a few days. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">major highlight</b> for Karen, in what turned out to be her last weeks
of reasonable health, came just a few days following her homecoming. A friend
had organised a surprise guest for morning tea. Karen writes in her blog ‘when
the doorbell rang, I almost fell over to find Greg Holmes in the doorway with
flowers. It was one of those rare moments in my life when I was stuck for
words. My feelings were a mixture of complete shock and relief that it wasn’t
Alf from Home and Away. Greg was the perfect gentleman but I felt like a bit of
a fraud because I didn’t feel sick enough to warrant such a visit.’ <span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">Greg Holmes is here today, and I thank
him for what he did for Karen.</span><span style="color: red;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tragically, the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">cancer had quickly reappeared</b> and
spread through her spinal cord.<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"> </span>She
lost her mobility to walk and use her left arm. A new type of treatment brought
pause to the advancing disease temporarily and thankfully spared her famous
texting thumb which maintained her contact with the outside world. In her final
weeks, Karen always maintained her optimism, grace and dignity despite
increasing discomfort and disability. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am absolutely devastated by the loss of my sister Karen. She has gone too
soon.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">However, there are many things that I think we can be thankful for.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I am thankful for</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Karen’s thumb<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That we got to see the Reds <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">win</b> the final and celebrate together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That Karen found the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">humour in her tumour</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">tidal waves</b> love and tangible support Karen and our family have received
over the past 2 years, from Karen’s army of friends, friends of the family and
the Church Community. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">precious time</b> we had with Karen and the great memories we have to
cherish.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That she knew how much she was
loved by her family and all of her friends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That we had time we had to say <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">goodbye</b>. That nothing was left unsaid,
no emotion left unconveyed, that Karen’s <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">suffering
has come to an end and that she is now resting in Heaven.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am also thankful for;<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Mum’s incredible resilience </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">and strength that enabled her to be
in the trenches with Karen for every step of her struggle.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And For Dad</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">’s unyielding belief that Karen would be okay. Indeed
he was right.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I was there with Karen during her last evening on earth.</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> The atmosphere
was like being with the stayers at the end of a party. Karen was surrounded by
her immediate family, Father Jerome, three of her closest friends, mellow
music, pizza and wine. The lights were dimmed and there was the hum of good
conversation (mostly Karen stories). I am sure she loved her send off. Typically
Karen didn’t leave when it was time, she waited until well after the oldies had
left and the youngies were tiring. She held out for one more break through cocktail
and then she was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Karen </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">will be forever young and forever beautiful. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">We will miss her terribly.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> Eulogy - by Sam Miller</o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Thanks
Shaun, my name is Sam Miller</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I have been friends with Karen
since grade 8 at Loreto where we bonded outside the Home economics classroom,
by outside I mean literally, we were banished outside, due our Mothers sewing
our animal print pants and us having to unpick the pants, which took an entire
term.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Today the Pandy family asked me
to represent a very important part of Karen’s life, her friends. I stand up
here, representing the “Army” of friends that have gathered today, not to
mention her 299 Facebook friends that Karen treasured and loved during her 37
years of life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I can honestly say I’ve never
meant anyone with so many friends, but my dear loyal troops, you were all so
important to Karen, in so many ways. During the past few years she thrived on
your love and support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I’d like to start off by given an
insight into what you all meant to Karen. She would always talk to me about her
friends – new and old. She would never just say “Mary and I”, she would say “My
Friend Mary and I went to lunch for 3 hours and we talked for a further 3 hours”,
hmm the talking for 3 hours never surprised me, but I often felt guilty that I
didn’t know - my friend Mary - as she would be very important to Karen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I realized over the years for Karen using
the word friend was her way of connecting with people, it put the relationship at
that special level, you had Karen’s respect and she valued you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Having so many friends was a
gift for Karen, she was so open to meeting new people and was so warm and
comfortable with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her social
network was huge, in her blog she would mention how wonderful it was to know
that so many people loved and supported her and this kept her going on many of
her dark days. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She took great joy in the
diverse range of friends she had acquired and loved organizing events each
weekend, many of which became adventures. This was exciting to her and made her
life so full.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would go out at least
3-4 times a week, which would exhaust a normal person, but not Karen, I think
this is why she was the faster texter in Australia, when you have over 300
contacts to keep up with you need to be able to text quickly! We are not the
only ones to notice her phone lovathon, My 6 year old daughter made a comment
yesterday that she hopes Aunty Karen can take her phone to Heaven, so she can
text her to see what it’s like!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I always felt she loved having
so many people whom she connected with and who could share many moments with
her. This was Karen’s life and that’s why friends were such an integral part of
who she was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I remember her 35<sup>4h</sup>
birthday party, it was more than just a birthday it was a celebration of her
strength and courage with her battle against breast cancer. The preparations
began and the arduous task of who to invite was an initial issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From memory, it was a decided a smaller party
would be best, for most people that would be 20-30 people for Karen it was 90
of her closest friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">With the arrival of Barney social
events were now scheduled around the outings to <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>dog parks. The inseparable pair held ‘rock
star status’ on Brisbane roads, driving around in Cookie with this Hairy horse.
It was a sight to be seen, with Karen trying to restrain Barney, which was a
difficult task while driving, in many cases people would take photos because it
looked like Barney was driving! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">In my mind, being Karen Pandy’s
friend is a special privilege that we all enjoyed. Which brings me to the
second part of my speech today, what it meant to have Karen as a friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">The wonderful Ann-Maree, summed
it up beautifully, she is the benchmark of a Best friend. You often hear people
talking about having a good friend and what they have done that makes them
special, then someone might trump them with another friends good deeds but as
Ann-Maree pointed out, no one can trump Karen as a friend – she was the
benchmark friend, the friend of the highest standard. There are so many stories
of Karen being there for people in times of need that it would take me 2 hours
to get through! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">But I would like to bring up a few;
the first one that comes to mind is a story Karen’s faithful friend Karyn told.
It was during the Brisbane floods and it was mayhem, traffic was a nightmare,
Karyn and Mark had just renovated their lovely home at Graceville and the
floods had hit them badly. The first thing that Karen did was jump into Cookie
to try and help, it was an ordeal, a 3 hour journey, but this didn’t deter
Karen, she never once thought about turning around, she wanted to be there to
help her friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Ann-Maree talked about the time
Karen flew to Sydney to be by Ann-Maree’s side, Karen had just finished a round
of chemo and was very ill but nothing was going to stop her support her friend
at this time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Karen was the best person to
pick you up again, her magic smile would light up your heart instantly and her
razor sharp wit was the best cure for any situation. Sometimes that wit was so
fast I would be laughing at the first one liner and miss the others, one day
she said to me, “Mate, keep up, your missing some of my best work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">This benchmark of friendship
became the norm for my family. As you all know Karen was an awesome chef, she
had that acute ability to taste and smell everything item that was in a dish. She
shared this love of food with my husband who is also a chef. One day Karen
received the emergency call from Steve, in Steve’s true Gordan Ramsay style he
yelled down the phone “ Pandy get here now I’ve burnt the cake” Karen raced
down to our house, she entered the kitchen and with a sigh of relief my mother
in law said to everyone,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“the bridesmaid
to the rescue” And Karen replied, “ I didn’t know it was a job for life!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">But that’s what Karen did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Her charm and vivaciousness was
one of the best things, I loved about Karen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<strong><u><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Karen’s greatest Love</span></u><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">On
behalf of the army of friends I’d like to finish today by talking about Karen’s
greatest love, her family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone hear
today would know something special about a member of the Pandy family. One of her
favorites </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">was her mock disappointment when George, her nephew,
became old enough to realize that his aunt couldn't be his girlfriend!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">To Craig, Shaun and Lisa, she
absolutely loved having you three as her siblings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">She had a special bond and love
for each of you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Craig, she idolized you, were
always the big brother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Shaun or Shaz bootie she had a
special connection with you on so many levels, you were the voice of reason.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Lisa she adored you, she would
have been so proud of you over the past month, I remembered she used the words
“remarkable” to describe your love and support. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">She treasured all the little
bits of the kid lives that are important to parents but they were also an
essential part of Karen’s life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">And finally to Helene and
Geoff, your relationship with Karen is best summed up with her extended time
living at home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I would often ask, “don’t you
want to move out”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and she would reply, “Why? My parents don’t annoy
me!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>She loved and admired their
marriage, she would say after 40 years my parents still go on date nights. She
said that her parent’s relationship with each other was what she felt <strong>love should be</strong> and she would never
settle for anything less. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Karen became
more ill she said that the best thing in the world is a hug from your mum or
dad.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">She was a great mate with Geoff,
she was his protector, although not a fan of his jokes! Helene she loved your
outlook on life, she loved your food, she loved your laughter, she loved your
kindness, she was fully aware of your loss earlier in your life and how you
nourished and loved your children. Over the past few months, Karen would often
mention how awesome, amazing and brilliant you were during this time that she
loved you and Geoff so much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"> I would like to make a pledge
on behalf of the army that we will continue to support the Pandy family just as
Karen supported all of us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">And finally I would like to
finish with one of Karen’s wishes for today. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many years ago, prior to Karen having breast
cancer, Ann-Maree and Karen had a random conversation and it went like this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Karen asked, “ Ann-Maree what
would say at my funeral?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Ann-Maree responded with
surprise and dismay,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“why would I be at
your funeral?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Then Ann-Maree paused and t<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a>hought for a minute, and then asked,” Well, what would you
say at my funeral?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Karen replied quickly <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Nothing why would I be at your funeral?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">10 minutes passed and out of
the blue, in the middle of a different topic, Karen said ”But if you had to be
at my funeral, make sure you remind everybody how long and thin my legs were.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #000090; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My friend Karen, with the long
thin legs, you will be missed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-61650241845617021922012-03-02T13:23:00.004-08:002012-03-03T00:12:35.567-08:00Not the news I wanted.I am not sure where to start with this entry. It has been a devastating week. I had the lumbar puncture on Tuesday. The benefit of having a very active imagination is that the reality of the situation is rarely as traumatic as you had made up in your head. My mum and I headed off to the Mater for the day procedure. The weakness and numbness had gotten so bad that I now need help dressing - so a lucky nurse helped me into my backless gown and the world's biggest paper undies. I am not exaggerating about the undies. They literally came up to my armpits. I could imagine Lady Gaga wearing them with a belt and a pair of thigh high boots. The lumbar puncture was quite an uncomfortable procedure, but not for the reason I would have thought. I have been having some pretty awful toilet issues, so Mama Bear has had me on the stewed prunes. In hindsight, not the best breakfast choice when you are having a procedure done on your lower back. Lying on my belly on the table, I could feel the rumble coming, so I had to clench my bottom as much as I could to save the poor doctor who was about to stick a needle into my back. He kept telling me to relax and I kept thinking to myself 'you really don't want me to'! It is very difficult to keep your back relaxed while clenching your bottom tightly, I would encourage you to try it. <div><br /></div><div>After the procedure, I had to remain flat on my back for 4 hours in hospital and then until lunchtime the next day at home. The time in hospital passed quite quickly as I was kept company by Mama Bear, my sister and a good friend. Now we just had to wait on the results. I did ask what they were testing for and they were looking for any neurological disease and malignant cells. I didn't really give much thought to the malignant cells, I was more worried about the degenerative diseases with no cure. The next day, I was able to sit up and have lunch with mum and my sister, which was a treat, until I threw up at the table. Luckily my sister has 3 kids, so she didn't really bat an eyelid at the table vomit. Mum rang my dad and he came home straight away. Surprisingly after all that lying down, all I wanted to do was sleep. After about 40 minutes, Dad came into my room and told me that it was time to go to the Wesley Hospital. I was a bit confused about this and started to worry when Mama Bear, my sister and one of my brother's also walked in the room. The results of the MRI showed malignant cells in my spinal fluid, which was affecting my central nervous system and causing all these issues. They all hugged me and cried. Instead of my afternoon sleep, I was off to the oncologist and neurosurgeon again. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was told that I would need chemo directly to my brain, which would require a shunt to be inserted on Thursday and chemo would commence on Friday. I was told the treatment is unlikely to result in a cure, but was about limiting further damage and maintenance. I hope the damage that has already been done can be reversed because I am down to typing with one hand and am making lots of mistakes. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will continue this blog tomorrow about the operation and the first chemo. The rugby is on tonight and I only have 20 minutes to get prime position on the couch. Go the Reds!!</div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-49640093267847033552012-02-26T01:50:00.003-08:002012-02-26T03:55:21.190-08:00Bad news and worse news.It has been an interesting week. I had been feeling better, apart from the annoying limp which I had developed on Saturday. By Tuesday the limp had developed into pins and needles in my left pinkie and ring fingers and the weakness in my left calf was increasing. I saw my neurosurgeon on Thursday and he suggested getting an MRI done of my spine and neck to rule out anything sinister. I wasn't worried - I thought life couldn't suck that much. I booked the MRI for Tuesday of next week, which would give me enough time to psych myself up for going into that tight white torture tube. When I woke on Friday morning the pins and needles had spread to my entire left arm and my pinkie and ring fingers on my right hand. The weakness in my left leg was also worse; I had to sit down to put my pants on and couldn't push my foot into my shoe. I rang the neurosurgeon on Friday afternoon and left a message for him about the developments. I still wasn't too concerned about it all and headed out with my lovely housemate.<div><br /></div><div>Much to my extreme disappointment, the neurosurgeon rang back to say that I should head into the Mater Private Emergency and have the MRI done immediately. It wasn't quite the Friday night I had planned. Armed with my parents, we headed into the hospital. It felt strange going to the emergency department again, but at least this time I wasn't in my pajamas, I had a bra on and didn't feel like my head was going to explode. Another bonus was that since I was already bald, they didn't have to shave chunks of hair from my head. I had an MRI of my head, neck and spine which took about an hour. Lying in the tight white torture tube, many thoughts ran through my head; such as why do they give you headphones to listen to music when you can't hear it over the bang, bang, bang of the machine? What happens if you have to scratch something? My thoughts also ran into what could be causing these issues. I thought of every degenerative neurological disorder with no cure and thought about how I could deal with that diagnosis. After spending quite a bit of time contemplating this question - I still don't know the answer. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the MRI was done at 10pm, I was admitted to the hospital and spent the night in a shared room on Friday. I do not find hospitals to be the most peaceful of places, especially when you are in a room with a complete stranger who snores, expectorates loudly and likes to sleep with the light on. I didn't realise I would be over-nighting on the luxurious Ward 9 of the Mater Private, so I wasn't prepared with my ear plugs and sleep mask. I managed to get settled at about midnight and about 10 minutes later, an alarm started going off in the room. This happened about half a dozen times between midnight and 6am, so needless to say, it was not a restful night at all. After the first few times, I managed to work out that the alarm went off every time the lady rolled over, bent her arm and disrupted the flow of her drip. You would think that if I could work it out from behind the grey curtain (which is unfortunately not made of concrete), she could work it out also. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was wide awake when my neurosurgeon came to visit me early Saturday morning with the results of my MRI from the night before. The good news was that my spine and neck were all clear and they couldn't see anything that would be causing these sensations. The bad news was that the sensations were not caused by swelling or scar tissue, so further tests would be required as would a visit by a neurologist. He then held my hand and put his other hand on my arm and told me that there was other news. I knew this was a bad sign - I could see the cancer face forming. The worse news is that the MRI of my brain showed that the tumour has returned. Apparently I have super human powers that can grow tumours through radiation. To say that I was upset about this news is the understatement of the century. I felt like I had been punched in the guts. I am still struggling to wrap my head around this news, but as always I will keep forging ahead with positivity - I just have to remember where I put it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was examined by the neurologist and he recommended that I have a lumbar puncture to determine the cause of these sensations. The thought of having a needle thrust into my spine gives me goose bumps, but it is unavoidable. I just hope the trauma and pain results in a good outcome. Surely life couldn't be that cruel. Once they have the results of the lumbar puncture, they will be able to determine the course of treatment for the new tumour. I will have another visit to the tight white torture tube in a few weeks and see if the tumour has grown, shrunk or disappeared. Depending on those results, I may need another surgery to remove it. I am hoping that it magically disappears as do the pins, needles and numbness. </div><div><br /></div><div>Once again the news has spread and my family and friends have rallied around me. My eldest brother flew up from Canberra to surprise me - which was awesome. Both brothers came over last night and watched the Reds defeat the Waratahs. Surrounded by friends, family, snacks, beers and rugby - I felt almost normal. That was until I jumped up to celebrate the last minute winning try to the Reds and promptly fell over. Must remember not to do that at the game on Saturday night. I have spoken to quite a few friends and lots of family and there have been lots of tears. Some people have apologised for crying in front of me. I totally endorse crying, this is a very cry-worthy situation. This has come as a devastating blow to me, my family and my friends - I think it is definitely appropriate to shed a tear or two million. I certainly know I have in the last two days. I am just going to focus on getting through each day this week. First is to get through the lumbar puncture on Tuesday and rejoice in the clear results on Wednesday. Also, the first home game of the rugby season is on Saturday and my aim is to get there and get home without falling over. </div><div><br /></div><div>I would ask the people who are kind enough to read my ramblings to pray to what ever God or religious leader you believe in to pray that the lumbar puncture is clear and this tumour magically disappears and I do not have to have my head sliced open again. If you have a spare minute to squeeze in a fast growing hair request, that would be most appreciated also. </div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-33860937733143322132012-02-21T22:21:00.003-08:002012-02-21T23:16:53.720-08:00First week of recovery mode.It's been one week since radiation finished and so far my scalp seems to be holding together pretty well. Pre-radiation I was advised to expect my scalp to blister, peel and weep - but none of those things have happened so far (touch wood). I am putting down to the fact that I rub about 43829834kg of Moo Goo scalp cream into my head twice a day. I don't know what is in that stuff, but I am sure it has some magical quality. Overall, I am feeling not as bad as I had imagined. I haven't had the vomit monster come and visit me again. I have been feeling nauseous, but luckily I have managed to ward off the vomit monster with a range of drugs. I still feel dizzy at times and feel like I am going to lose my balance, but luckily Barney is never too far away so if I do fall, I will have a soft landing. I am on a reducing dose of steroids and seem to be coping with it well. I still feel angry and short tempered, but instead of my poor mother bearing the brunt of this, I am aiming it at Thomas and Carla from My Kitchen Rules. <div><br /></div><div>The overwhelming feeling I have at the moment is exhaustion. I just feel like I have zero energy and the same amount of motivation - which is so unlike me. I feel like staying in bed, going to sleep and waking up some time in June when I am back to normal. Although, that would mean missing a few of the Reds home games, which of course I would never, ever do! I have been out a few times for short periods and then find that I have to come home and lie down for a few hours to recover. I look forward to the day when I can go to brunch for an hour and then still have energy to do something else. A friend of mine invited me to head up the coast for the day and my first feeling was that I felt nervous about going out for so long, so far from home. I have got to snap out of that! Hopefully, I will be up for a beach trip in the next few weeks. I have been feeling a bit down this week and not wanting to do anything. I have noticed that I have been struggling to remember words, people's names and have been writing down wrong numbers. Also my balance has gotten worse since the radiation finished. Add to that I have hurt my back and now walk like I should be wearing a cloak and living in a remote bell tower in some dark Eastern European county. I am really bummed about not being able to drive for another three months. So, I am taking things in hand and going to try and do something about it. I am going to see an Occupational Therapist who specialises in post-brain surgery and have an assessment. A friend of mine pointed out to me that essentially I have had a brain injury and that there are things I can do to work on it. I would hate to get assessed in May and be told that I can't drive for another three months! </div><div><br /></div><div>I hate this feeling of running on empty. In true Mama Bear style, I am on every vitamin and nutrient that boosts brain function and recovery known to man. I think there is a correlation between how good something is for you and how gross it looks and tastes. I am on this "super food powder shot" which apparently is amazing, but looks and tastes like dirt. It isn't that bad, once I block my nose to drink it, wash it down with a glass of water and follow it up with a double Kool Mint chaser. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow I have my follow up with the neurosurgeon, so will be interesting to hear what he has to say about my progress. I have been doing my balance tests and they have been pretty bad. Although, mum also tried the balance test and let's just say I don't think she is going to qualify as a deep sea diver anytime soon. It is the first Reds home game next Saturday and my aim to to get there and not fall over in the process! Here's hoping the boys will follow up their victory over the Tahs with a squashing of the Force. </div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-43084249991986071212012-02-14T19:56:00.000-08:002012-02-14T20:30:23.838-08:00Radiation over red rover.Yesterday was my last radiation treatment and instead of feeling happy it was all over, I have been cranky and short tempered. I am happy that the brain frying has come to an end and I am very, very happy that I never have to put that bloody mask on again, but I still feel cranky. This could be due to the steroids I am on, so I could blame roid rage (this roid rage could also explain my Tourette's when I watch My Kitchen Rules). I found out at treatment yesterday that I won't be able to drive for another three months. To say this was slightly upsetting is a massive understatement. I love my car, I miss my car and I love my independence. Today would have been 21 days until I could get in my car and go somewhere alone. As my mother frequently tells me the Queen doesn't drive herself. I know this may come as a shock to some people - but I am not the bloody Queen and I love driving! <div><br /></div><div>When I got home from the hospital yesterday I was so upset. I felt like this was a big blow. I know it is not as bad as being told that the tumour was back or that I would have to have more treatment, but this has implications beyond getting from A to B. When I got home I flopped on my bed and cried. Within about a minute the divine Barney jumped on my bed, put his head on the pillow next to me and wrapped his front leg over my neck. There is just something about a Barney cuddle that makes things better. Even as I lie on my bed typing this, he is curled up next to me and I find comfort in him always being so close. Anyway, back on the topic of not being able to drive - words can not express my frustration! I hate having to rely on people to go anywhere and I really miss being able to go to places alone. It also raises the question of when I will be able to move back home to my lovely housemate. My parents place is closer to public transport, which will make it easier for me when I eventually head back to work, but staying here for another three months is........... Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and they are amazing, but I miss being able to do my own thing and having my own space. So the next time you just jump in the car and pop out somewhere - appreciate your ability to do that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I also found out yesterday that my hair could take up to six months to start coming back. I am hoping that I have super human hair growth power and it won't take that long. However, it it does take six months to start coming back, at least I will be able to feel the wind in my hair when I drive with the top down in August! I am still lathering myself with the Moo Goo Scalp Cream and so far it seems to be holding up pretty well. I hope it doesn't turn nasty in the next week or so. </div><div><br /></div><div>A few months ago I read an article in marie claire that annoyed me so much that I wrote a letter to the editor. Looking back on it now, I may have been a tad sensitive about this topic and given that it was 8 days after my surgery I may blame drugs for my rant. The article was about a successful, single 34 year old American woman who told the story about getting her eggs harvested. She made a comment that egg harvesting was usually for 'last resort cancer patients' which really bugged me. She also complained about the bloating, acne, mood swings and getting her period for the first time in 17 years and how this was hard to juggle with dating her new boyfriend. Something snapped in me and I typed off an angry email. In the March edition of Australian marie claire - you can read my rant!</div><div><br /></div><div>This may seem strange, but I bought my mask home from the hospital. I am not sure why and what I am going to do with it. Maybe I will smash it, maybe I will let Barney destroy it or maybe I will keep it as a reminder. But, then again, do I want to be reminded of the nastiness of being put in a mask and clipped to a table while your brain is being fried? In complete contrast to this burst of sentimentality, I have started clearing out reminders of my breast cancer. I still have cards in my room and I haven't bought re-fills for my filofax since 2010. I am not sure why, but until now I couldn't look at that diary again, but I feel that it is time to move on. I will go and buy new re-fills as soon as mum can drive me to the shops!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-7113077249615760312012-02-12T03:06:00.000-08:002012-02-12T03:54:45.209-08:00Woo hoo for Moo Goo!<div>The last week of full head radiation is behind me - thankfully! I have to say, it was bloody tough. Whoever said that radiation was going to be easy peasey - is an idiot. That is right, that idiot was me! I had gotten through the last of my whole head treatment and could see the flickering light at the end of the tunnel. I had been feeling well enough to have a few outings during the week, all of which were followed up by long afternoon naps. Thursday night I was getting ready for bed and started to feel a bit off colour. It was at approximately 10pm that the Vomit Monster came to visit and didn't leave until 4am. Needless to say it was a very uncomfortable and sleepless night. The issue with brain swelling is that it not only causes headaches, but vomiting and nausea as well - it is all very chemo-like and not very fun at all. Although, I would like to comment that 6 hours of vomiting does wonders for your stomach muscles! </div><div><br /></div><div>After a night of no sleep and the removal of most of the fluid from my body, I was feeling pretty horrid on Friday. I went to the hospital early so that I could be seen by a radiation oncologist. I literally dragged myself out of bed, put what ever clothes I could find on and went to the hospital. Of course, this would be the one and only time in the last 2 years and 3 months that I get to see a cute, lovely and young doctor!!!!!! Where is the justice???????? Given that my blood pressure was very low, I was feeling horrid, the power was lost to the radiation building which caused a 2.5 hour delay for treatment - I was allowed home without having my brain fried. This means that my treatment will finish on Tuesday, but I was happy to have a day off. </div><div><br /></div>As mentioned in my last post, I had my hair clipped short and it was still falling out. My clothes looked like I had been attacked by some black short haired animal. When I say falling out, it was falling out pretty much everywhere - except a very stubborn tuft on the crown of my head. That is also the hair that grew straight up and took much product to flatten. Those are some tough hairs! After a few days of hair depletion, I realised that I started to resemble Sloth from the Goonies - so I attacked my head with a razor to try to regain some dignity. I am not sure if Sloth is an improvement on my Uncle Fester look of 2010, but I still felt it needed to go.<div><br /></div><div>I have been continuing to smother my head in Moo Goo Scalp Cream and so far it seems to be holding itself together pretty well. I do not want to get too excited, because that is what I thought about my hair this time last week. I have been told that the week after radiation finishes your scalp gets much worse before it gets better. I have also noticed that my forehead is starting to look very tanned, so I feel that it fits in with my happy island cocktail image during radiation - at least I have the tan for it! </div><div><br /></div><div>I have been thinking about going to away for a week with some friends when this thing is over. I have been reluctant to book anything, as I don't want to make plans and then have to cancel. If I am totally honest, I am also worried about going away and not having hair. I know the hair thing seems superficial, but to me it is a very big deal. This week I watched 18 months of hair growth go down the drain - literally. Part of me wants to be brave like the lady I met at radiation and the other part of me is too afraid to be so exposed in public. I know it seems stupid as people stare anyway and know I have no hair because of the scarf. No matter how many times people tell me I am brave and strong for going through treatment - it's not bravery when you have no choice, it is brave when you make the hard choice. I just don't think I am that brave. </div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-14370765587223366232012-02-08T15:08:00.000-08:002012-02-08T15:55:55.687-08:00A whole new bald game.My hair started to come out in clumps on Monday and I was hoping that it might stick with me long enough to last through the whole head radiation, which would give my scalp some protection from the powerful rays. However, once it started coming out there was no stopping it. I made the decision that I would have my head shaved as I couldn't stand watching the long hair come out in such large amounts. Mum drove me over to my sister's place and she put her clipping skills to work. To ease the pain of losing my hair, she first cut my hair in a very unstylish bowl cut, so then I wasn't so upset about farewelling that hairstyle. I was sporting a very short number two, but since the hair is still coming out - it has gone from number two all over to mangy looking with large bald patches exposing the bright pink scalp. When I rub my hand gently over my scalp, I end up my hand covered in short dark hair. Not too dissimilar to patting a doberman, rottweiler or any dog with short hair that is Garnier Cappuccino colour. All in all it is hideous to look at and painful to touch.<div><br /></div><div>The doctors and nurses advise you that radiation is like bad sunburn. However, it is like bad sunburn in the same spot every day for three weeks. Add to this that my scalp has always been protected from the sun and it is now revolting about the amount of radiation exposure it is getting. It is bloody sore. I have been smothering my scalp in Moo Goo Scalp Cream and this has definitely given me some relief from the pain. I still have three treatments to go and I just hope that my scalp holds together a bit longer and doesn't blister, peel or weep. To add to my frustration, my nails have gone gang-busters and would be perfect to scratch my irritated scalp, but I have thus far resisted the temptation. My scalp will get worse before it gets better, so I am prepared for a few more painful weeks. </div><div><br /></div><div>My family and friends have been a constant source of strength for me during this time and I love all the messages that I have been receiving. I have found that times like these really do sort out your true friends, the ones who will stick with you through thick and thin. Pretty much all of my friends have been amazing, but there have been some whose absenteeism has surprised me. I know I can't expect people to react to these situations in the same way that I would, but it has reiterated to me that when you don't know what to say to someone - just call and say 'I don't know what to say'. Once again, Barney has been my constant companion and a great source of entertainment for me. My mother cries at least once a day and it breaks my heart to see her in so much pain. I think this is harder on her than it is on me, as she is helpless to protect her child from this. </div><div><br /></div><div>I finish treatment on Monday and that is when the repairing can begin. I am on quite a few drugs at the moment, most of these are to combat the side effects of the drugs I am taking, and this has really stuffed by up immune system. I am feeling very depleted, exhausted and very run down. I have to be careful about what I can eat, drink and ingest at the moment, but as soon as radiation is finished Mamma Bear's Health Retreat/Jail will be in full swing!</div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-35449935208703853162012-02-06T03:00:00.000-08:002012-02-06T03:31:25.816-08:00Two weeks down, one to go.So another week of radiation is behind me and all in all I am feeling much better than I was after the first week. I am on a long list of drugs, all of which include other drugs to combat the side effects of the drugs - but at least the headaches, nausea and vomiting are under control. I am on a steroid, which has artificially increased my energy levels, but I still feel exhausted. I still get dizzy at times and my head is pretty cloudy all of the time. I notice that I struggle to think of the right words to say and sometimes forget what I am saying in the middle of a sentence. For those of you who know me well - it will come a a shock that finally I am a loss for words!<div><br /></div><div>Today marked two weeks into the treatment and was also the day my hair has started to come out in clumps. I knew it was coming and I have gone through this before, but I still balled my eyes out in the shower when it started to happen. I hated being bald. I remember the first time it happened, it shocked me that this meant I was really sick. I don't want to be sick like that again and I certainly do not want to be seen as the sick person again. When you are bald, you can't hide that something is wrong and people look at you differently. I am still me, I just happen to have no hair and recently had a brain tumour.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did spend most of the day feeling sad and sorry for myself. I really didn't want to be here again in my life and I was hoping against hope that my hair wouldn't abandon me this time. I know it was overly optimistic and went against every medical opinion, but I was hoping there was some slim chance I might be the medical miracle who got to keep her hair. Alas, this was not meant to be. Anyway, I think the universe was sending me a sign today to not get too caught up in the hair loss issue. I went to radiation and they were running about an hour behind, so had to sit in the waiting room for longer than usual. A lady and her daughter sat next to me and the mother started chatting with me. She was bald and had a large scar across the top of her head - so we bonded over our brain tumours. She was telling me that she found her brain tumour after falling over in the shower, which was a week to the day that her husband had died. Suddenly, I didn't feel quite so grim about losing my hair - this lady had lost her husband and was now fighting for her own life. It certainly puts things in perspective. So, hair today, gone tomorrow at least I haven't lost my husband and battling for my own life. Thanks universe for the slap in the face - I will be better tomorrow. </div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-61240332314216090302012-01-28T22:44:00.000-08:002012-01-28T23:06:46.168-08:00One week down.My first week of radiation is over and all I can say about it was that it was completely crap (I would have used a much stronger word, but my mother could be reading this at some point). The side effects knocked me around a lot and it felt similar to chemo. I was exhausted, had a headache, nausea, vomiting and dizziness. Add to this that my blood pressure, which has always been normal, has totally bottomed out. I can't stand up without feeling dizzy. It is a very strange feeling to know that your headache is caused by your brain swelling - it creeps me out. <div><br /></div><div>I had treatment on Friday and a nurse came and spoke to me as another nurse was talking to her about me during their gym session that morning. She tried to take my blood pressure, but couldn't get a reading and my pulse was weak. I admitted to her that I had been feeling rubbish all week, but didn't want to admit how bad I had been feeling. I think that when you have gone through chemo - everything else seems tolerable, but this week has been a struggle. She suggested that I go to the emergency department and that they may admit me for a few days. I hate hospitals and I definitely hate sleeping in hospitals, so I wanted to avoid this as much as possible. Luckily there was still a radiation oncologist there and he gave me a long list of drugs to take over the weekend. I have felt better since being on the drugs and have even managed to go out with some friends.</div><div><br /></div><div>For those of you who know me well, this will come as a surprise, but this week I haven't felt like going out or seeing anybody! I just want to crawl into my bed, go to sleep and wake up in March. I haven't felt like talking to anyone or seeing anyone, which I feel bad about because so many people keep sending me messages of support, but I have been struggling to reply to those. I do love the messages - so keep them coming, but don't hate me for the lack of response. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think next week will be even harder as it is the week that I am likely to start losing my hair. I haven't put a brush through my hair at all this week, for fear that it will be full of hair when I finish. My scalp has started to feel itchy and irritated, but I am secretly hoping that this is a battle between my hair and the horrid radiation rays trying to evict it from my scalp. I am backing my hair all the way! I absolutely hated being bald. HATED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I particularly hated it when strangers looked at you, cocked their head to the side and gave you the 'cancer face'. I hate that face. When I see that face I just want to put my fist in the middle of it. No matter how many times people tell me about the fashionable hats this season, or remind me about the gorgeous scarves I have, I would still prefer to have my hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, one week down and I survived. Here's hoping my hair survives next week.</div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-23791908981444980542012-01-23T21:30:00.000-08:002012-01-23T21:56:51.990-08:00Let the radiation begin.It is a bleak and miserable day here today, which matches my mood perfectly. I had my first radiation treatment yesterday and whilst it wasn't as bad as the breast, it is going to be much more difficult than I thought. Before the treatment started, I met with a radiation nurse who explained the treatment in detail and once again went through the side effects I could expect. Last time I stopped listening when I was told my hair would grow back 'patchy at best', so this time I listened until the end - but I wish I hadn't. Apart from the baldness, I can expect the following to happen:<div><ul><li>headache (due to brain swelling)</li><li>nausea and vomiting</li><li>exhaustion</li><li>balance issues and dizziness</li><li>personality and mood changes (so if I am cranky when you call - it's not my fault!)</li><li>scalp to become red and sensitive</li><li>scalp to peel, blister and weep</li><li>loss of memory and concentration (similar to chemo-brain - which last time caused me to forget which country I was in at the time).</li></ul><div>Some of these side effects will be with me for 3-6 months after treatment is finished. The affects of radiation are accumulative, so the more you have, the worse you feel. This is not good considering I got home from treatment yesterday and felt exhausted, sick and had a headache. I think the next three weeks are going to go very, very, very slowly.</div><div><br /></div><div>The radiation treatment itself isn't too bad, but I am not a fan of the mask. The mask, which they moulded a few weeks ago, is put over my face and affixed to the table. The mask is quite firm and you can't really open your eyes as it is squeezing down on your face. It actually reminds me of the scene in 'Girl with the Dragon Tattoo', where Mikael is in Martin's cellar, hanging off a hook with the plastic bag over his face - obviously minus the hook and the creepy, freaky, sexually depraved serial killer. For the twenty minutes I am lying there I try to keep my eyes closed and think of a happy place, but this is quite difficult when you have two people who are sticking things on your face and talking over your head; which interrupt my visions of sitting on a beach with a cocktail in hand. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>I am not sure why, but I am finding this treatment more difficult to come to terms with than the last radiation. Maybe it was because I was initially relieved to hear that it was 'just' radiation and thought I could sail through it. I am scared about what could happen to my brain. When I had scans in December, they could tell that I had had radiation treatment to my breast as there was a difference between the right and left side. My radiation treatment finished 14 months ago and the skin and muscle still haven't recovered - how long will it take for my brain to recover? The brain is the engine room of the body - which means it can affect everything. I know that I am pretty tough, but nobody can tell you the extent to which I will be affected and recover. It is the unknown factor that scares me. I suppose if my personality changes, I lose half my IQ points, my memory is shot - I can always run for Prime Minister!</div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-63878031715276181962012-01-08T22:14:00.000-08:002012-01-23T21:30:10.255-08:00Radiation planning....again.Its been a month since I have had my surgery and I am feeling pretty good. I do have times where I get really tired and I still feel a bit dizzy when I get up too quickly, bend over or look up. I am not starting my radiation treatment for another few weeks, so am going to go back to work for a few hours a day. I know at this time of year, most people are not looking forward to their holidays ending and starting a new work year - however, I am itching to go back to work!<div><br /></div><div>In other news, I had my two year breast check which involved a mammogram and ultrasound. Usually I would feel a bit anxious about this coming up, which coincided on the second anniversary of my chemo starting. However, the good thing about having a brain tumour is that it puts things in perspective - so I wasn't worried about the results at all. I was not looking forward to the mammogram at all. The pain of having your boob squished between two cold machine plates until it is almost flat is not a pleasant experience. I kept looking at the screen to see if I could see anymore of those sinister looking black blobs - which I couldn't. I wasn't worried about the results as I have been poked, prodded and scanned so much in the past few weeks, I figure if there was anything scary hiding in my boobs someone would have noticed. It was the next day that I received a phone call from my surgeon to say that the scans were all clear and things were looking good on the boob front. Normally I would be overjoyed at this news, but with the impending radiation treatment, I am feeling a bit blah. </div><div><br /></div><div>I went to the hospital the other day for my radiation planning, which I wasn't too concerned about. After my last planning experience, which was horrific, I thought things would be much better. Before I went into the room for my scans and planning, the radiation oncologist came and spoke with me about the possible side effects. She did talk a lot, but I didn't really take in much of what she said after she told me that I could expect my hair to grow back 'patchy at best'. It took all my strength not to burst out crying right there and then. I know it seems quite superficial, but the thought of losing my hair again is just painful - especially for only three weeks worth of treatment. Not that I would ever wish to experience the awfulness of chemo again - but I can understand why my hair evacuated my scalp for the six months worth of treatment. However, I am hoping that my strong, afro-like hair will be tough and stick through the tough times and stay with me for the next three weeks. </div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as my name was called and I was taken to the scanning room with a radiation therapist, who remembered me from my last radiation. While she was making small talk, I just kept thinking that I can't believe that this is my life once again. As soon as she closed the door on the scanning room, I burst out crying - I just couldn't hold it in anymore. The therapist was very kind and tried to make me feel better by saying that this planning won't be as traumatic as the last one, but that many other women have benefitted from the trial and error of my breast radiation. I was relieved to know that I wouldn't be spending 2 hours lying in a room full of strangers, half-naked being pushed, prodded and moved around on a cold table. What I didn't realise is that the planning involved a warm mask being put on my face and clipped to a table until it hardens. I was told that it was like having a facial, except a facial doesn't feel like your face is being wrapped in glad-wrap until it hardens. It wasn't the most pleasant experience, but I am thinking that what I am going to go through in the next few weeks is going to be much worse. </div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-23389525122528915692011-12-29T01:52:00.000-08:002011-12-29T03:06:02.019-08:00Rest, recovery and my favourite Red!I can hardly believe it is only three weeks to the day since I had my brain tumour removed. It still seems surreal to me. I think the recovery from this surgery has been easier than my first surgery. In the three weeks since my brain surgery, I have had nothing else to do but focus on my recovery. I have celebrated my birthday and travelled to Canberra for Christmas. In the few weeks after my last surgery I had my eggs harvested, my portacath implanted and started chemo - with my birthday and Christmas celebrations thrown in the mix also. Also, after the first surgery I came home with a wound drain and had to see the surgeon every few days to have my wound syringed. I am not sure if it is a psychological thing, not being able to see my wound, but I feel I have recovered faster from this surgery. Thankfully, I have been able to shower and dress myself since my surgery, so haven't had to get my mother to assist me with that!<div><br /></div><div>I have seen a number of doctors since my brain surgery and they have all commented about my remarkable recovery. I still get tired, but my headaches have disappeared and my balance is improving every day. It has only been in the last few weeks that I have really thought about how different the outcome of my surgery could have been. I feel very grateful that I am able to walk, talk and function just as I did before my surgery. Once again I listen to my body and when I am tired, I lie down and I don't push myself. Hence, I am in bed at 8pm writing this blog. </div><div><br /></div><div>There have been a number of good things that have happened in the past few weeks. Once again, I have been blown away by the tsunami of support that I have received. When we returned from holidays yesterday, there were fresh flowers waiting (which luckily hadn't died while we were away!). However, one of the best things happened last week, thanks to some organisation from a friend of mine. A friend of mine contacted my mother to see when a good day would be to have a morning tea before Christmas. All week friends had been saying that a mystery guest was coming along and I was asked numerous times by a variety of people if I liked the show 'Home and Away'. I had visions of me trying to make polite conversation with Alf! I was slightly worried about this, so invited a few friends around as well, who could act as a buffer, so it wasn't just me and Alf talking about flamin' galahs!</div><div><br /></div><div>Thursday morning came and mum and I were busy getting things ready. I was getting nervous about who the visitor could be and trying to think up topics of conversation if it was in fact Alf who rang the doorbell. When the doorbell rang I almost fell over when I opened the door to find Greg Holmes standing there with flowers! It was one of those very rare moments in life where I was totally lost for words. My feelings were a mix of complete shock and relief that it wasn't Alf from Home and Away (no offence to Alf fans). For those of you who do not know me very well - I am a huge Queensland Reds fan and Greg Holmes has been my favourite player for a few years now. He was so lovely and stayed for almost two hours and even bought me a Reds jersey that was signed by the entire team. My sister happened to 'pop in' looking glamorous with a Reds cap for him to sign. She also needed some coolant put in her car, which Greg also helped her with. He was so lovely - posing for photographs and signing any Reds stuff I could find! </div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't know the story of how he came to be at my house, as my friends had been quite secretive about it, so I asked him. It was arranged through one of the performance managers who spoke to my friend and asked Greg if he would mind visiting a woman who was quite sick. He didn't know what to expect - but it wasn't the vast array of morning tea delights, 8 of my friends and putting coolant in my sister's car! He said he was a bit nervous as he didn't know how sick I would be, if I was going to be propped up in bed and he wasn't sure what we were going to talk about. It was a week to the day since my surgery and I wasn't propped up in bed - I had been running around making sandwiches and getting things ready for the morning tea! I felt very lucky to have had a visit from my favourite Reds player and I said to him that I didn't feel sick enough to warrant a visit. I keep forgetting that I had malignant brain tumour removed and that is pretty bloody serious! </div><div><br /></div><div>I have felt grateful that I have had the opportunity to rest, recover and enjoy Christmas without having to worry about treatment at this stage. I have seen the radiation oncologist and will go for my planning day next week, with treatment to start the second week of January. It will be three weeks of intensive radiation therapy - 2 weeks of whole head and 1 week which will focus on the site of the tumour. Whilst I am very happy not to have to go through the horror of chemo again, I am sooooooooooooo upset about going bald - again! Just when my ponytail was getting long and my hair had started to grow down! It just isn't fair that you have to go bald for only 3 weeks worth of treatment. I keep hoping that my super strong post-chemo hair will take pity on me and not evacuate my scalp - but I think that is overly optimistic. So many people have said to me that I have a great shaped head, that there are so many cool hats out this season and that I have an array of great scarves. To those people who do not understand what it is like to lose you hair - it doesn't matter about the shape of your head, the hat fashion or how cool my scarves are - I want to keep my bloody hair!</div><div><br /></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-38996862712673869572011-12-15T21:20:00.000-08:002011-12-15T23:05:30.409-08:00What a week!Since leaving the hospital a few days ago, things have calmed down and I have started to process the magnitude of what has happened in the past week. Sitting on my bed, I can't believe that a week ago I had a malignant brain tumour removed. I heard my mother talking to someone about it on the phone and for a split second I thought 'geez, poor girl' then realised, that 'poor girl' was me! <div><br /></div><div>I went back to my house the other day to collect a few things, which was the first time since leaving the house in such agony last Thursday. It was good to be there, but initially it felt a little weird. The last time I was in my room I honestly thought I was going to die. I have never been in such pain or so scared in all my life. I am so grateful to have my parents so close to me and a hospital 10 minutes down the road. Last time I was diagnosed, I had a week to process the diagnosis and wrap my head around the surgery. This time it all happened in a few hours, so it will take me a while to process. I was quite out of it on Thursday morning and didn't fully appreciate the extensive list of possible side effects from the surgery. People keep saying to me that I look remarkable for someone who had major brain surgery a week ago. Apparently it is remarkable that I can walk, talk, type and function. I would have to say that it was going to take a lot more than a 3cm brain tumour to stop me from talking!!!!!!! The reality is that I could have come out of the surgery a different person, but a week down the track I am pretty much the same - just with some cool new scars. I do notice that when I get tired I tend to drift to my left and it takes me a while to think of some words.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a bit of a traumatic day the other day when I went to have my bone and body scans done. I had to have a needle put in for the tests, but because my veins on my right arm had been hammered over the last week, they found it difficult to get a good vein. After a few attempts and a lot of tears they were able to access a vein. Lying there waiting to be scanned, I can't believe that this was once again my life. The technician was chatting to me and asking if this was a follow up from previous cancer, I had to reply, no, that once again I am starting all over and again and my two year follow up was the next day. Luckily the scans were all clear and I just have to deal with the brain tumour, which is a big enough deal. </div><div><br /></div><div>My speedy recovery will be accelerated by my sentence at Mamma Bear's Health Retreat/Jail. Once again I have given my parents a few more grey hairs, but it is good for them to be kept on their toes! Once again we have been overwhelmed by phone calls, messages, cards, visits and gifts. It is amazing how quickly word spreads and how the community comes together. Today I had my staples removed, which wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it was going to be. I am sure this will make sleeping a lot more comfortable and even now I notice the ache in my head has subsided. </div><div><br /></div><div>Next week is Christmas and in between making plans for the festive season, I will be going to see my radiation oncologist about the next step. I have heard that the radiation makes you dopey, bald and looks like you have a bad spray on tan. So basically, I will be like Brittany Spears having a break down; which I guess is better than Uncle Fester from last year!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-25612355891328086592011-12-12T23:42:00.000-08:002011-12-13T02:54:00.201-08:00Spoke too soon......So for those of you who keep up to date with this blog, you may remember that I mentioned the shooting pains in my head that I was having last week. I had two days off work because of my headaches and was feeling a bit soft. I woke up on Tuesday and Wednesday with the pain in my head and nausea, which was very unlike me. Luckily, our cleaner was home on Tuesday and was able to help me. The pains continued for a short time and then ceased. My cautious father booked me an appointment with a neurosurgeon on Wednesday afternoon to have a check-up, as he was concerned about the shooting pains in my head. The neurosurgeon ordered a MRI and CT, which I thought I would get on Thursday, as I was tired and cranky and just wanted to head home. Thursday morning I woke up in a torrent of pain with nausea and the shooting pains in my head. Unlike the last two mornings, the shooting pains didn't subside and after 45 minutes of agony, I rang my parents at 4.30am.<div><br /></div><div>Luckily, my parents are 10 minutes away - which includes getting out of bed, dressed and driving to my place. By the time they arrived, I was doubled over in agony, grabbing my head and throwing up in a bucket in my room. I can honestly say that I have never been in so much pain in my life. Looking back at it now, I thought I had an aneurysm and that was going to be the end of me. We have a history of high blood pressure and aneurysm in our family with people passing away at 36....which was how old I was. Dad bungled me into the car, gave me a injection of Maxalon to stop me throwing up and drove me to the emergency department of the local hospital. I hear about long waiting times in waiting rooms, but I was sitting down for about 30 seconds before they whisked me away to see a doctor. Mum told me yesterday that dad also suspected an aneurysm, which helped speed up the process. I was a bit out of it, but I remember them giving me a magical drug which made the pain go away. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was assured by the doctor that it wasn't an aneurysm, otherwise I would be dead and not sitting up talking to the doctor. I felt somewhat reassured, but then wondered what else could be wrong. I was taken for a contrast CT and the results came through. Before I knew the results, I heard the neurosurgeon from the day before saying 'right, what ever that is, it has to come out today'. Luckily he was operating at the hospital that morning and he was able to fit me into his list. It was very surreal, going from lying there with a headache to facing fairly major brain surgery later that day. I had to ring work and let them know I was in the hospital and wouldn't be at work that day. The events of the day are still a little fuzzy for me, but I had an MRI and was taken up to the operating theatre. The MRI revealed a 3cm malignant brain tumour which was pressing up against my brain and causing all these issues. </div><div><br /></div><div>I woke up a few hours later in the ICU - tumour free and in a magical cloud of anti-pain medication. I was a bit out of it for a while, I am told that my brother came to visit me and we had a great chat - none of which I can remember! I also have vague recollections of cancelling a date on Thursday night via voicemail...........I apologise now to that particular gentleman! Coming out of the ICU, I was advised that I can walk, talk, touch my nose, recognise people, colours and move all my limbs. I didn't have epilepsy, seizures or a stroke - which upon reflection makes me realise just how bloody lucky I am! I have spoken to a few of my friends who are doctors and they all have very concerned looks on their faces when they look at my scans. I guess the benefit of being non-medical, is that I didn't understand just how sick I was. The rest of this week will be tests, tests and more tests. This will include new tests and my two year check up. I feel somewhat ripped off that I am coming to the end of one cancer crap and starting a new one simultaneously.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sitting here in hospital six days later, I am still coming to terms with what happened. I still can't believe that only a few weeks ago I was so excited about getting to my two year anniversary and having my port removed. Thinking that all this cancer shit was behind me. I thought I was done and dusted and could continue with the rest of my life. I was actually thinking about the blog and wandered what to write about since the tumour thing was finished. I guess I spoke to soon.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am sure that I will once again find humour in this tumour, but at the moment, I feel ripped off, pissed off, angry and sad. That is even before I get on to the topic of losing my hair......again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! </div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-68779628570446896422011-12-04T01:09:00.000-08:002011-12-04T02:05:21.953-08:00Lumps, bumps and scarsLeading tup to the removal of my port - I was excited. I felt like it as a big milestone having that thing out of my chest. I had a very quiet weekend, spending the weekend relaxing and thinking about the past two years. Over the weekend, I was having strong shooting pains in my head - like I was being stabbed in the head. After an x-ray and ultrasound, it was discovered that I had a lump in my thyroid - for which I had to have a biopsy. <div><br /></div><div>It was a good thing that I was so busy at work, because I didn't have any capacity to think about it. I do not think about the cancer coming back, even when I went to the same place for the ultrasound and biopsy. It was even the same man who did the biopsy - and I did tell him that the last time he stuck a needle in me, it was cancer and I don't want to go through that again since my ponytail is getting long!</div><div><br /></div><div>Even after having a needle plunged into my neck, I didn't even think about what it could be. When the results came back as benign, it was only then that I realised that it could have gone the other way. I think I felt that they had blasted me so much with chemo, that there can't be anything sinister growing. I don't think about the cancer coming back, even if it does, I kicked its ass once and I will do it again.</div><div><br /></div><div>The scar when my portacath was removed is healing well and the pain is pretty much gone. I did have a friend comment on it today to say that I should start putting vitamin e cream on to reduce the scar. I put Bio Oil on my last scars and they are barely visible. I started thinking about my scar on my chest which is pretty visible. I am not embarrassed by it, I am not ashamed by it and I wear it proudly. I think of my scars and a sign of a battle that I fought and won.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-3255582947178517372011-11-24T04:06:00.000-08:002011-11-24T05:03:43.578-08:00Two years onThis week marks two years since I found out I had breast cancer. I have been thinking about this week quite a bit in the lead up and wasn't sure how I would feel about it. Now that the is almost over, it has been good that I have been so busy at work this week, that I haven't had much time to think about it. Tonight is the night, two years ago, that my poor father received the results of my biopsy and he had to tell me that I had a malignant breast tumour. I would do anything to be able to take that away from my dad. <div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow morning, just as we did two years ago to the day, my parents and I will head back to The Wesley Hospital. However, two years ago marked the day when my world imploded and I spent the day at the Wesley Breast Clinic being poked, prodded and squished. Tomorrow will have a very different ending - I am going to have my portacath removed! I feel that it is significant that I am getting the portacath removed on the same date as my world imploded. It makes Operation Kick Cancer's Ass nice and clean - all over in exactly two years. I will of course have to have follow ups and future poking, prodding and squashing, but I feel that the hard part is done. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am not feeling anxious or nervous at all. I have had such a big week at work, that I am looking forward to the drug induced sleep and a sleep in! I do know one thing for sure though, I am definitely looking forward to not having the constant reminder in my chest. To all my wonderful family and friends who have helped me get through the last two years, I say thank-you. For all the women who are still going through their own Operation Kick Cancer's Ass, stick with it and you too will soon celebrate the end.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we rapidly approach the crazy festive season...I say 'bring on a cancer free 2012'!!!!!!</div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-90044901038527079122011-07-22T03:51:00.000-07:002011-07-26T02:35:59.910-07:00Health, happiness and Barney.I am not sure why, but in the past week or so I have been thinking about my diagnosis and treatment and the horror year that was 2010. Which I can now do without having bursts of angry tears - woo hoo! I have met quite a few women who have also had their lives hijacked by breast cancer and we all have things in common - great family, great friends and other support. In addition to the cocktail of cancer drugs we were on, some of these women were also on anti-anxiety or anti-depressants whilst going through treatment. I did utilise sleeping tablets as my sleep was disrupted by the steroids after chemo, but I didn't take valium or any anti-depressants. I was thinking what was the difference between me and these other women? We are all strong, vibrant and confident women who are tough and have come out the other side - so why was I different?<div><br /></div><div>Upon reflection I have come to the conclusion that the difference was my big hairy horse dog - Barney. There were some people who were not supportive of the puppy idea and 18 months down the track I can see why. Dealing with cancer is stressful, but when you add in a pooing weeing puppy machine, it takes stress to a whole new level. However, I wouldn't change a thing! I got Barney the week after my first chemo treatment and he was born the week I was diagnosed - he is very special to me. No matter how sick I was feeling, I would take him to the dog park or kick a ball in the backyard, even if it was only for 10 minutes. On the days that I didn't have the energy, mum would take him to the dog park while I sat in the car and watched. It always made me feel happy and relaxed and I would momentarily forget about all the bad things I was going through. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will never forget the day that I had my head shaved. As you can imagine, I was pretty distraught about the idea of being bald and sick and ugly. I came home from having my head shaved and went straight to my bed and cried and cried and cried. I didn't want to talk to anyone or see anyone. I heard a knock on the door and my mum came in saying that there was someone who wanted to see me. I didn't want to see anyone and told her to go away, she walked over to the bed and placed Barney next to me. He snuggled into me as I cried and started licking my head. I remember feeling very comforted by that little tongue licking my bald head. As gorgeous as he was, he didn't make up for the fact that I looked like Uncle Fester for months on end, but he did a bloody good job. </div><div><br /></div><div>He was amazingly aware on the days that I wasn't feeling well - which was a lot. On the days that I struggled to walk down the stairs, Barney would patiently wait at the top of the stairs until I had reached the bottom and then run down; he would also do this as I ascended the stairs. Now as soon as I stand at the top of the stairs, he pushes past me and runs down to sit next to the hat rack - looking at his lead and then looking at me as if to say 'there is my lead, where are we going?'.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was recently talking to a friend who has just finished chemo and was contemplating getting a puppy. I am definitely a dog person and would highly recommend Puppy Therapy. However, Puppy Therapy does come with side effects - you can think your puppy is a child and treat them as such, you can talk in a high pitch cutesy voice that only dogs can understand and no matter how hard you fight it - you will frequently find your bed half-taken up by a 40kg hairy horse hound who farts and snores all night! Ok, maybe that last one is just me. </div><div><br /></div><div>So this entry is a salute to my big hairy horse dog Barney. He is a doggie celebrity in his own right, we go to the dog park and people who I have never met call his name and give him treats. Barney was the only one who was by my side more than my mother last year and he always manages to put a smile on my face even on my darkest days and for that I will be forever grateful. Thanks Barney. </div><div><div><br /></div></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-37437784587074056742011-07-11T03:57:00.000-07:002011-07-12T14:27:54.528-07:00Post-cancer dating......Dating and cancer - not usually two words that go together and I still haven't found a brochure on the topic. I typed 'dating after cancer' into google and the first topic that comes up is 'cancer and divorce'. Once again, it is aimed for women who are older, have been married and have had kids. Once again, that is not me. There are some articles on the topic which are more relevant, but you do have to go searching for it.<br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div>I have been talking to the psychologist at the Cancer Council about getting back into dating. I have found that my poo-poo feelings have been exaggerated (yes, that is a technical term) and I take longer to bounce back. I have had a lot of disappointment when it comes to dating in the past, and I am not sure I am ready to launch back into that. I feel that the past 18 months have been bloody tough and I have had enough to deal with, without adding the messy world of dating to it as well. There is the issue of when to tell a new guy about what has happened and what it means for the future. There is a very high rate of return for the type of cancer I had and I am still unsure about whether I can have kids. Whilst I recognise that this is not the best conversational opening for a first date, it has to come out at some point. I am not ashamed or embarrassed about what has happened and am open to talking about it (clearly!!!!) - but when and how do you bring it up?</div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div>I have been saying for months that I wouldn't start dating until I had a fringe. I have been hiding my fringe under a headband for a little while now and today I wore my hair in a slick back ponytail for the first time since January 2010, so I can't use the fringe excuse anymore. After talking to the psychologist about this for a while, I thought I was ready to give it a go. I had the opportunity to go on a date with a fellow who I have only known for a few weeks. All seemed to be going very well and we were getting along great. He asked me if I had any tattoos and I immediately thought of my radiation tatts. Since I have the worst poker face in the world - he questioned what that look on my face meant. I am a pretty good judge of character (I wouldn't be a very good recruiter if I wasn't) and I felt comfortable enough with him to tell the truth. He had also previously admitted that he had googled me and actually quoted recommendations from my LinkedIn profile. I may be guilty of having typed my name into a search engine to see what pops up and I know that the first thing that comes up is the article on the ABC website about this blog. There are also results for the Mother's Day Classic walk and this blog. I can't imagine anyone googling the name of the person you are about to go on a date with seeing 'blogging my battle with cancer' and casually skipping over that to the LinkedIn result. I said that I do have tattoos, but they were for medical purposes not cosmetic. He naturally asked why and I told him that I was diagnosed with cancer at the end of 2009, but then quickly followed that up with that I had finished treatment and totally kicked its ass (I still smile when I say that)!!!!! Anyway, long story short - the date ended well and he was keen to catch up again the next night and the night after that. I already had plans, so we said we would catch up the next week. Anyway, after an email and a few text messages I still haven't heard back from him. Part of me thinks that I shouldn't have told him about the cancer thing and the other part of me thinks that he just didn't like me - which clearly shows poor taste so he is not worth worrying about anyway. </div></div></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div>So, I thought that when the next opportunity presented itself, I wouldn't be so giving of information. This opportunity came when I was celebrating the Reds historic Super Rugby triumph last Saturday (woo hoo - this also makes me smile)...I met a new fellow. He had no idea of who I was and what had happened to me, which was refreshing. Like the last time I was fun, flirty and charming, well I thought so! Anyway, he also expressed interest in catching up again and we exchanged numbers. It's been a few days and still no follow through, will keep you updated on that one.......</div><br /><br /><div></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-32325970842755375502011-06-02T02:45:00.000-07:002011-06-02T04:22:38.011-07:00Hello again...It's been a while since I have sat down to write the blog. I have felt weird about coming back to it as I haven't really felt like myself and have wanted to shake off some of the anger before blogging again. It's been a few weeks since I recognised that I was having some issues dealing with life after cancer. Most of my head space recognises that life after cancer is glorious and should be celebrated; there was that part of me that was just annoyed about the whole thing. I would see girls who had long hair and bad hair cuts and I would think to myself, 'you b*tch, you don't deserve to have hair!'. My dear friend Lana left on a long overseas trip and I have really missed her, which I think added to my state of sadness. Rather than letting my anger and sadness stew, I sought some help for it. You get so much help when you are going through treatment, but there is just as much help when you are finished treatment and I decided to utilise some of that help.<div><br /></div><div>I first went to see a psychologist who was recommended to me by a friend, but didn't specialise in cancer counselling. She was nice enough, but sitting there and telling her my story was pretty traumatic. I was surprised how quickly into telling the story that I started crying. I didn't think that the feelings were so close to the surface, but apparently they were. She also suggested that I draw my feelings. For those of you who know me well, you know that I am a talker, definitely not a drawer - so that wasn't going to work for me. I spoke to my breast cancer nurse about how I was feeling and she recommended that I see a psychologist at the Cancer Council Queensland and she has been brilliant (and free!!!!). Even in the few weeks from acknowledging I was struggling, seeing the first psychologist and going to the Cancer Council - I felt better. I didn't even cry when going through the details of diagnosis and treatment with the new psychologist. She gave me some really great tips about what to do when I start to feel those feelings of anger welling up inside of me. When I start to have those feelings, I have to think of something which makes me smile. So far the things that I think about include - any of my nieces and nephews, Barney's smiling face, the Reds having a home final and my tickets to the rugby world cup! It feels good to have things to plan and to look forward to without having to account for treatment schedule!</div><div><br /></div><div>We have also broached the topic of dating and when do you tell a guy about the whole cancer thing. It feels like a whole lot of baggage to take into a relationship. Issues include - the uneven boob thing, getting cancer again and the possibility of not being able to have kids. At this point, it all seems too hard, but luckily I am not dating anyone, so don't have to have that awkward conversation. I was talking with a friend the other day and she said she would like to go home and be greeted by a man who tells her that he loves her. I am lucky that I do have that - but it would be better if the man didn't have four legs, a tail and answers to the name Barney!</div><div><br /></div><div>In other news, I did the Mother's Day Classic Walk, which raises money for breast cancer research. My sister was the number one fundraiser last year and did the walk on my behalf as I was bald and sick and exhausted and couldn't get off the couch. However, this year I did the walk and was number 2 fundraiser for the event! I felt very proud to do the walk, but it was pretty confronting seeing the images of people who hadn't survived. I started getting upset and think about why I made it and they didn't. I started to think about if I had felt those little lumps and did nothing about it until after New Years - where would I be right now? I stop the 'what if' feelings by thinking of my happy things. I am fortunate to have so many happy things to think about. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am feeling stronger in myself and feel like I can start helping other people get through this. On the weekend I am catching up with a 32 year old girl who has had her first chemo treatment. I spoke to her on the phone and she seems lovely and positive and upbeat, we even laughed a few times. I am prepared for it to be confronting and I have my many happy things lined up to think about if things go pear shaped. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am glad that I went and saw someone to help me and I am feeling better for it. I feel that I am stronger and I can help other women get through this horrid disease and I am slowly working out who the post-cancer me is. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-86728516639803139812011-04-12T04:37:00.000-07:002011-04-13T04:51:06.898-07:00I have had cancer, now what?It has been 17 months since my breast cancer diagnosis. So much has happened since November 25, 2009 - when I think about it sometimes it makes my head sore. Going through the gruelling treatment I think I was in survival mode, just doing what ever I had to do to get through each day. It's been over a month since my last treatment and I have felt a mixture of excitement, relief and anger. I didn't realise that I was feeling angry until a few weeks ago.<div><br /></div><div>Last week I received an email from a friend's mother, who is an amazing woman who has battled cancer three times. She gave me some good advice which started me thinking about the past 17 months. She said that she found the first year after treatment stopped was very hard. She told me that I had to make sure I had to look after myself and be kind to myself. When you are going through treatment, you have the support of friends and family, everyone is aware of the tough times you are going through. It is very visible - I was bald, pale, had dark circles under my eyes and was generally looking pretty gross. When treatment finishes, people think that you and life are back to normal. I expected me to be back to normal, but after 17 months of being consumed by cancer - I am not sure what 'normal' is anymore. I will never be the same person I was before my life imploded on that November day, I am not the cancer version of me and I am not sure where to go from here. </div><div><br /></div><div>I still have the support of family and friends, but now I find that little things which wouldn't have bothered me before - just piss me off. I have this underlying feeling of anger and I think it is because I am not sure where to go from here. My hair is back, I am working full time and life is good - but I still feel angry. I don't know how to shake this feeling off and not sure how to move forward from here. I know that I want to move forward and get as far away from cancer as I can. Right from the beginning I said that I don't want to be known as a cancer survivor, I will always be Karen, who just happened to have had cancer. But, now what?</div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-23718821955041068292011-03-06T22:08:00.000-08:002011-03-21T14:23:00.342-07:00Happy day!!!!!I came to treatment today thinking that it was my third last and counting down the days until my last. As it happens, I miscalculated and today is not my third last treatment.....it is my last!!!!!! I have been thinking about this day since January 7th 2010, when my chemo started, but I still feel unprepared. <div><br /></div><div>I started writing the above entry two weeks ago and I haven't been back to the blog since. My last day of treatment came as a pleasant surprise, but I wasn't mentally ready for it. I had my end date as April and it is a awesome that it is earlier, but it just feels weird. I didn't believe the nurse when she told me it was my last treatment and I made her check with the doctor and the pharmacy.....twice. Once it had been confirmed it was my last treatment - Mum cracked out a happy dance in the chemo clinic, I know she has been waiting for this day even more than I have. We then spent some time wondering how we would celebrate this momentous day. I feel like we have had celebrations for my birthday, Christmas and a few other family birthdays. So, the The night of my last treatment, I spent a quiet night at home alone. I know it was a great day, but I just wanted to spend the night alone. It still seems surreal to me that I have no more treatments. I will still have the joy of having a needle plunged into my chest every few weeks for the next 12 months, to flush the porta-cath, but at least it doesn't involve drugs which make you sick and bald and tired and gross. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have also officially moved out of home, although there are still some items I have to pick up - lots of shoes and Barney! For the time being Barney is staying with mum and dad, with me having weekend access visits. I didn't realise just how much I would miss that fuzzy gold head and huge black nose. He and I have spent so much time together in the past 12 months, he is a huge part of my life and I miss him terribly. Luckily I still pop in during the week to see my parents, have dinner and see Barney.....not necessarily in that order of priority, but don't tell my mum!</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is getting back to normal - I have had a haircut, am back at work full-time and the social life is definitely back on track! I can officially say that post-cancer - LIFE IS GREAT!</div><div><br /></div><div></div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810566300379606469.post-86479639028321000422011-02-13T22:09:00.000-08:002011-02-13T23:32:35.886-08:00Valentine's DayOn my walk to the office this morning, I counted eight delivery men delivering flowers, chocolates and presents for Valentine's Day. I recalled Valentine's Day a few years ago when was feeling a little bitter about all the girls walking through town with armed with presents and smug looks on their faces. It was at this point that I saw a homeless lady, who was pushing all her possessions around in a trolley. She was unwashed and wearing light coloured pants that she had soiled. It was at that point that I thought, there are people in the world worse off than me and I should be grateful for what I have and not lament over what I did not have. Later on that day, I was driving through the city and saw the homeless lady again; once again I was filled with the thought that I am lucky to have so much in my life. That was until she turned around and I spotted the huge bunch of flowers she was holding. It is now 4.30pm on Valentine's Day and I am currently sitting in the chemo clinic. Some girls get flowers, some girls get chocolates, some girls get gifts in duck egg blue boxes - I am getting chemo. Where is the justice???<div><br /></div><div>However, I calculated that this is my fourth last treatment and I will be officially finished on April 18th!!!!!! Only 63 days left. And whilst 63 days might seem like a long count down, it doesn't feel that that long when I look back to when I started this in November 2009. By the time I finish, it will be 16 months of treatment done and dusted. I feel like I can tick 'Operation Kick Cancer's Ass' off my to-do list and move on to the next item. As the weeks progress, I am starting to feel more and more like myself. My bloods are slowly improving and I am getting more energy. My hair is starting to grow, in fact I was somewhat optimistic and plugged in my hair straightener the other week. However, in my attempt to straighten out the bev curls that are sprouting at the nape of my neck, I ended up burning the back of my neck, so the hair straightener has been once again packed away (but hopefully not for too long!). </div><div><br /></div><div>I am also moving out of the family home next weekend. I feel that this is an important move to take a step further away from the past year. Whilst I will miss the luxuries of living at home with a very attentive and generous mother, I am looking forward to having my own space. I couldn't have coped with the past year without the support of my parents, but this is an important step to regaining my independence. </div><div><br /></div><div>In some respects I feel like I have moved on with my life and have dealt with the cancer experience. However, things happen which make me feel like I am in the middle of everything. A good friend of mine asked me if I would loan my wig to her friend who has just started her treatment for breast cancer. Being the type of person who wants to help everyone, I said yes immediately and told my friend just to let me know when she would like to pick it up. My friend suggested that I go with her to visit her friend and we can deliver the wig together. Again, my initial reaction was to say 'yes' immediately, but then I thought about it. There are no photos of me when I was drowning in chemo and I avoided looking at reflective surfaces. I don't have a picture in my head of what I looked like when I was bald, grey and had dark circles under my eyes. I am not sure how I will cope seeing someone like that and thinking that is what I looked like also. One thing that I really want to do is to join the Cancer Council's Peer Support network, which I think would be incredibly helpful. I know how amazing it has been to have friends who are going through the same thing and know what it is like to have your life hijacked by cancer. I now understand why you have to be finished treatment before you can do this. Just when you think you are ok and your life is back on track, something will trigger you and you are right back in the middle of it. The other day I was talking to a good friend about losing my hair. It has been over a year since I was able to pull my hair out in clumps and it still makes me cry. Apart from having my parents tell me I was sick, losing my hair was the hardest part. I think that was the first time I realised that I was sick and going to get sicker. </div><div><br /></div><div>That is all in the past and I am now all about the future. I have changed my picture on facebook. For those of you who know me, you will know that when all this started I had a picture of Kojack eating a chuppa chup. When my hair started to grow back, my picture was a Chia Pet. It is time to have a new picture of me. So once again, my face (and short hair) is on facebook. In the short term I am very much looking forward to Rugby Union season kicking off next weekend and being able to partake in a moderate and sensible amount of rum whilst enjoying the game. Go the Reds! </div>KarenPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08879933072007490020noreply@blogger.com0