The very festive festive season

It has been a few weeks since I have managed to sit down at the computer and update the blog. The festive season has been very busy and festive. Many things have happened since I my last entry: had one year scans, still dealing with lymphodema, had by birthday and am recovering from Christmas Day. Let's take them one at a time.....


I had my yearly scans and mammograms a few weeks ago. I wasn't (consciously) feeling anxious about the results, I was feeling anxious about having my boobs squeezed flat like a pancake. Once again, I found myself sitting in the waiting room with a few women who were all much older than me. They were chatting amongst themselves and I was reading a magazine, catching up on celebrity gossip from 12 months ago. Anyway, one of the ladies was talking about her surgeon and how lovely he was. He was the same surgeon I had, so I said that he did my surgery and I really like him too. She looked at me and asked, 'What surgery did you have?'. I told her that I had breast cancer, it was then that she and the other women looked shocked. They said to me that I was a baby and so young to have gone through this. I used to be like that a year ago - thinking that breast cancer was the 'old woman's disease', but I have learnt my lesson the hard way. Anyway, the results of the scan were all clear and things are looking good. I need to see my surgeon in six months, but I am feeling pretty confident at the moment that I have kicked cancer's ass and it will be too scared to come back again!

I am still having treatment for my lymphodema and am now sporting a very stylish compression sleeve. It is supposed to be flesh colour, but I have never met a human with such an insipid shade of beige as a skin colour. It does seem to be helping, as does my very regular trips to the physiotherapist. I am a little annoyed every time I go and swipe my health fund card. My refund for each treatment is $22, so my out of pocket expenses are very high. I am sure it would be cheaper to have a crack habit. I have also gone to have a lymphatic massage with a therapist who has also had breast cancer. She was recommended to me and was very good. However, I walked in and within about eight seconds she had exposed herself to me; showing me her breast reconstruction and her new tattooed nipple! I didn't want to look at it, but thought it would be impolite not to seem interested! She was very kind and great, so I will be going back to see her (and hopefully NOT her new nipple) soon.

My birthday celebrations this year were in stark contrast to the celebrations last year! Last year I celebrated by having my wound drain removed in time for the Powderfinger concert. This year was another Powderfinger concert, but there was no wound drain removal required! We ended having my birthday party at home, which was wonderful. I got so many messages on my birthday from friends saying they hoped I was having a relaxing and decadent day. Preparing a party for 60 people at my house was not the most relaxing way to spend my day, but it was all worth it. It was a great night - filled with friends, family and french bubbles! I am starting to feel like myself again. When I look at the photos from that night, it seems like a long way from that day in the bathroom where I realised I looked like Uncle Fester.

Yesterday was Christmas Day and was another big celebration at the house. My immediate family consists of my parents, three siblings, two sisters-in-law, one brother-in-law, fives nieces and four nephews. So you can imagine yesterday was not quiet and relaxing, it was noisy and messy and busy and awesome! Last Christmas I spent most of it crying, trying to fake a smile and dreading the year ahead. This year I spiked my punch, swam with the kids and beat everyone at Just Dance on the Wii! This year has been the toughest one of my life and it was wonderful to be able to celebrate the end of it with my family.

This festive season has been far more festive than last season. I have thrown myself into celebrations for my birthday and Christmas and have thoroughly enjoyed them all. I am feeling hopeful about 2011 and am looking forward to a year full of good health, good friends and good times!

1st Anniversary

Today is exactly one year since my diagnosis. I have been thinking about this day for a while and I still can't work out how I feel. I am not sure if I feel happy, sad, nostalgic or just exhausted from the past 12 months. I am not sure whether I should celebrate or hold a memorial. It is just strange. When I think about what has happened in the past year, I am happy that the worst is behind me, but also sad because it is still not over. I am not ready to celebrate as my treatment has a few months to go and I am still dealing with side effects of treatment (ie. lymphoma and fatankles). I have been told that it can take up to twelve months for the chemo drugs to work out of your system. I find this strangely comforting, as I think if the cancer had the balls to come back, at least there is still something in my system to knock it out.

I am still seeing the physio for the lymphoma and am doing my daily exercises and stretches. I have been able to avoid having to wear a compression sleeve, which I am relieved about as it is starting to get steamy here; and a compression sleeve isn't the summer accessory I was hoping to purchase. I do have an array of stretchy tape going up my arm, across my back and around my boob. This is supposed to help create new pathways for the lymphatic fluid to drain, I am not sure how it works, but it appears to have helped. I also have to wear this bumpy pad thing (yes, that is the highly technical name for it), which is supposed to massage your boob. Think of it as a masseur sandal for your breast. One thing that I thought I would never have to do was pad my bra - but that is just added to the long list of 'things that I have had to do this year that I never thought I would'.

As I have said before, I don't feel like the old me and not sure how I feel about the new me. I know that I still hate my hair and don't really recognise myself when I look in the mirror. So many people have said to me how I suit short hair. The comments have ranged from 'it really brings out your eyes' to 'you are lucky you have such flat ears' to 'you have great high cheek bones to be able to carry it off'. Whilst that may be the case - it still doesn't make up for the fact that I had long hair until I got cancer, had chemo and became bald! Having high cheek bones and flat ears isn't much of a consolation. I know that people are being kind and trying to make me feel better about my post chemo fuzz, but nothing is going to make me feel better about it.

Over the past few weeks, I have been reflecting on the year that was. Whilst it was a tough year, I discovered I was tougher. I remember at the beginning, some friends didn't know what to say. One friend called me and could only swear to me on the phone. One friend told me to look to Belinda Emmett for inspiration (that didn't really give me much comfort since she passed away from breast cancer!), but I knew my friend was trying to be supportive. I have been speaking to family and friends about how they heard the news. The day I found out was such a haze, I can't remember who I called and who I texted and who found out through the grapevine. I was talking about that day with my mum and she still gets very emotional about it.

The year has both gone quickly and slow. Going through chemo I felt every minute of every hour of every day. Since I finished radiation, the year has gone very quickly. Getting back into the routine of work and immerse myself in a new challenge has made the past two months fly by. I can't believe that next week is December and more importantly the week after that is my birthday! Birthday plans are in full swing and it should be a fun night. I am having my check-up and scans before my birthday, just like last year, although unlike last year - this year the results will be something to celebrate!

2010 has hopefully been the worst year of my life, but luckily I have had the best of friends and family to help me get through. I am looking forward to seeing the back end of 2010 in a few weeks...bring on 2011!!!!!

Almost a year has passed

Almost a year has passed since my world imploded, it was November 25th 2009 when I found out I had breast cancer. Coming up to the one year mark, I feel a bit weird. As I reflect on the past 12 months, I realise just how much has happened and what I have gone through. I have spoken to some friends who have also just passed the 12 month mark and they have the same mixed emotions. On the one hand, I am happy that it is almost over, but on the other hand I feel exhausted from having to fight against it. It is unusual for me not to be able to convey how I am feeling, but the best way I can describe it is - weird. Things just feel weird. It is like I don't fit into my old life, but am not quite ready for my new life. I am not worried about going for my 12 month scans and mammogram; it may be naive of me, but I am not worried about the cancer coming back. There is nothing I can do to stop it returning, but I kicked its ass once, I will do it again if I have to (which I am really hoping I don't!).

Last weekend I went to the Relay For Life, which is organised by the Queensland Cancer Council at the RNA. It was amazing to see the amount of people who where there to support people who have been lost to cancer and are still fighting against it. They had a candle light ceremony which ended in a video montage of images of the people that have been lost to cancer. I am not sure if it was the photos or the Sarah McLauchlan song that went with it, but it hit me like a smack in the head - why me? I don't mean 'why me' as in why did I get cancer, but why did I survive it and they didn't. There was one lady who was diagnosed and passed away four weeks later. How can you be happy in your life and then be gone in a month? How can you fight against something in a month? It makes no sense to me. It has really compounded the feeling that I want to give something back to the people that have helped me through the past year and also to the people who are going through this battle. I know a lot of people refer to it as a journey, but I am not a fan of that term. Journey brings up images of driving along a country road with the wind in your hair and a cool soundtrack blasting through the car stereo. Cancer has no cool soundtrack and the only wind that you have is caused by chemo and has the toxic power to knock out a small child.

My treatment continues and I continue to battle with fatankles. Although my fatankles now have a friend - fataboob. I have lymphodema in my left boob. I had the humiliating experience of having to have my breasts weighed. It was all very technical and done using a Tupperware kitchen scale. I was surprised to know that the affected boob weighs one and a half times the unaffected boob. So you can imagine the difficulties of buying a bra that makes both boobs comfortable and happy. I am seeing a physio who specialises in lymphodema and cancer rehabilitation therapy. She is amazing and has taught me a lot of things that I can do to ensure that the condition doesn't get worse. I am required to sleep in a compression bra, which not nearly as sexy as it sounds. I am also required to do special massage to get the fluid moving; which resembles feeling yourself up, but I am told it has a medicinal purpose!

Overall, life is pretty good. Work is going great and I am loving it. I am also busy planning my birthday celebrations. Hopefully, this year they won't be highjacked by cancer! It is almost Barney's first birthday too. He continues to grow and is now the size of a small horse, pretty soon I will be able to put a saddle on him and charge kids for a pony ride. My focus for the next few weeks, coming up to the anniversary, is to remember how far I have come and not to dwell on the bad stuff. Treatment was horrific, but I got through it. It is the getting through that I will focus on.

The fatankle drama!

I am entering my third week of my new job. I am working four days a week and I am not sure how I managed to work five days in a row!!!! This working thing is exhausting, but I am loving it. I will never love the public transport part of working, but I love having to get up in the morning, get dressed and have a purpose that doesn't involve doctor's appointments and hospital trips. Although, these last two will be a part of my regular life for some time to come, at the moment they are not my focus. It is great to be part of a team again and I am learning a whole new industry. Who would have thought that the energy, oil and gas industry would be so full of acronyms! My post-chemo brain is getting used to them all.....slowly.

I started my new job the day after my Herceptin treatment and at treatment was advised by the doctor that I 'may experience some slight swelling' in my ankles and feet. Wednesday was the first day that I noticed any change in my lower extremities. By the time I hobbled home on Friday night (and the hobbling was not due to espresso martinis), my feet and ankles were enormous. I measured my left ankle and at its peak it was 49cm in circumference. This was roughly the same size as my nephew's head when he was born. I wasn't too worried, and since I wasn't experiencing any heart issues (which can also be caused by Herceptin) I didn't go to the hospital on Friday night. I was slightly worried that my feet may explode at some point during the night, so slept with them elevated (may be too elevated as I was the shape of a V during sleep) and when I woke up they were not quite at grotesque. The oncologist advised that I should get some Lasix tablets to help reduce the swelling which would allow me to be able to bend my ankles and walk normally again, as opposed the the ice-skating inspired glide I had mastered over the previous 12 hours. My dad very kindly arranged for the script to be filled from Canberra and all I had to do was pick up the tablets from the local chemist. I diligently took two tablets every morning, but didn't see much change. At the end of each day I would have to resort to the ice-skate glide to move around and my feet would have the indent of what ever shoes I was wearing that day. After five days of taking the tablets, Dad discovered that the chemist had given me Losec, not Lasix, and whilst Losec is very helpful for the irradication of stomach ulcers, it turns out it is not so good at helping with fatankles. Anyway, I have started on the right tablets and the excess fluid is now escaping from my body at a rate that Phar Lap would be proud of.

I have continued going to the young women's group, which has been great. Speaking with the other women has made me realise that I am well on the way to mental and physical recovery. I am not the type of person to worry, so I do not worry about recurrance rates, fertility and life expectancy. If I was going to live by statistics, then I shouldn't have gotten breast cancer at 34. The group did make me start thinking about the possibility of early menopause. None of my doctor's have mentioned this word to me, but I knew that infertility was a possibility, I just didn't make the connection that it was due to early menopause. I was not looking forward to the hot flushes, mood swings, dry skin and excessive body hair. After losing all my body hair, I was going to be really annoyed if I came back looking like a Wookie. I was advised that if my period could take up to two years to return, if at all. Anyway, in true super fertile form (just like having 20 eggs harvested after ten days of hormone treatment) my ovaries have kicked in and have started working just three months after chemo finished! I never thought I would be so happy to require the regular use of sanitary products.

I have treatment again next week. The three weeks seems to come around more slowly and I think it is because it doesn't take me two weeks to recover, like chemo used to. I now have more time where I am feeling like myself and am not curled up in the foetal position on the couch. I just hope that the fatankle drama doesn't happen every treatment, it really was painful and grotesque. I sent a few friends the picture and it took them a while to work out that the horrid, hobbit like foot was actually human and belonged to me! Although, one good thing about having such fat ankles - it makes your thighs look skinny in comparison!

My first hair cut!

I am continuing to feel better and better. My hair is sprouting at a rapid rate, which I hope is due to the very expensive shampoo I bought to encourage hair growth. I went to the hairdresser last week to get my hair coloured and cut! At least now I no longer look like a koala with hairy grey ears and it looks like a hair cut that I had done intentionally. I do miss my long hair and get a little cranky when I see people with long hair who do not appreciate it. I saw a girl at West End yesterday who had very long blonde hair which was matted, dreadlocked and had different things sticking out of it. I thought to myself that she didn't deserve such long hair and it looked like it needed a good wash.

I spent last weekend in Sydney - which was awesome. Great friends, great food and great rugby (apart from the fact that Giteau can't kick and the Wallabies lost by one point) - it was the perfect weekend for me. My friends took me to degustation at Quay, which was the most amazing food experience of my life. I would recommend to anyone to ignore the price and just do it! Between my trip to Tasmania and the Sydney getaway, I am starting to feel like myself again more and more. The Sydney trip had been planned during my treatment and it was great to have something to look forward to after radiation. For me, it has been a great way to mark the end of the horrid part of the treatment and the start of new beginnings. I would recommend to anyone who is going through treatment to plan something to look forward to, it doesn't have to be a decadent weekend away (although mine was fantastic!), even a nice dinner somewhere or a night away, just something that you can say after this - is the rest of my healthy new life.

Whilst in Sydney I caught up with a very close friend of mine who is currently going through dialysis. This is for six hours, three times a week. I had lunch with her and then went to the hospital for her treatment. I miss the days when we had lunch and then went shopping. I felt fine walking into the hospital with her, we were just chatting and laughing as we always do. She was shown to her chair and asked me to get some blankets for her. When I returned the nurse was there with the tray of needles and tubes. I stopped in my tracks and realised just how my mother would have felt on that first day of my chemo and every treatment after that. It hit me like a punch in the face and I burst out crying. It is a horrible feeling being on the other side and watching someone that you love so much having to go through that, and you feeling so helpless to do anything for them. I feel fine with how I coped with the treatment and how I feel at the moment, but now I have started to think about how it was for the people who are closest to me. I am beginning to understand the different reactions people had to my treatment.

The young women's group continues to go well. Yesterday there was much discussion about fertility. I didn't find this topic as confronting or draining as the last group, as I feel that fertility isn't an issue for me at the moment. Having children is so far in the future for me, it isn't even in my realm of thinking. At this point in my life, I am aiming at a first date! As for kids, I am an Aunty to nine great kids and the best thing about them - is I get to give them back to their parents at the end of the day!

Spring has sprung....and so has my hair!

I am not sure whether it was my time away, the time of year or that I am feeling better, but something has definitely changed. I am starting to feel more and more like myself, which is great. I have more energy and best of all - I have more hair! I am now able to put mascara on my own eyelashes and have had to start using hair product to control my unruly hair! My hair is just long enough to be messy (in small parts) in the morning. Who would have thought that I would be excited over having bed hair????? It is still very short, and my sister says that I look a bit like a koala because it is hairy over ears, but I am not inclined to get it cut yet as I want to avoid looking like Dr Spok. There is quite a bit of natural highlights in it (ie. grey), and it was pointed out that there is a bit of silver fox - but I like to call it silver foxiness. I will do some hair grooming before commencing my new awesome job in a few weeks.

Whilst I have been thinking about the future and making plans in the past week, today I started thinking about the past and how far I have come since the beginning of the year. I remember those days when it was an effort to get out of bed and get off the couch. I will never take my health for granted again. I hated that feeling of helplessness and having to rely on another person to help feed me, wash me and dress me. However, I am very fortunate to have had people who were there to help feed me, wash me and dress me. Well actually, the unhappy task of having to wash and dress me was taken up by my mother. She has been there every step of the way and I think she has felt it more than I have. She is one of the most amazing people I know and I will never take her for granted again.

Although I have been feeling optimistic about the future, I still have my poo-poo moments. I had one of these on Saturday. I was attending the wedding of a friend on Saturday afternoon and I was thinking about how I was going to another wedding alone. I knew the bride, had met the groom once and had met only one other wedding guest once. In the past, this wouldn't have been an issue for me, but I didn't feel I had the energy to make small talk with strangers for hours. I have started venturing out without anything on my head and was feeling self conscious about my hair (even though I am super excited to have it return), I still don't feel quite like I used to. I was feeling flat and sorry for myself; and I watched a documentary about people with dwarfism. They had a story about a woman who had a particularly rare form of dwarfism where she was less than 3ft tall and her joints were fused together. She was very independant, lived by herself, drove a car and was a teacher. I thought if she can do all this alone - then I can go to a wedding alone. It was then that they showed her celebrating her 28th birthday at her mother's house - where her boyfriend proposed to her!!!! I felt that this was the universe slapping me in the face and telling me to stop being such an idiot.

On the subject of being single, my six year old niece asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend. I told her that I didn't know the answer to that question. It was at this point that my four year old nephew raced in and said 'I know why you don't have a boyfriend Aunty Karen, it's because you use all your love on me'. He is very insightful for a four year old.

The great escape!

I have spent the past five days in Tasmania. I hadn't been there before, but I was looking forward to having a break. Friends did ask me why I was going there, but I had never been there before and was looking for something new to do. I have to say I was very impressed. Tasmania is beautiful. I spent Friday by myself with a map and a hire car. The good thing about having no destination is that you can't get lost. I worked my way up from Hobart to Wine Glass Bay, which was stunning. It was the first day I had to myself and had no plans for a very long time. I felt like I had been let out of jail and was making my escape! I spent the new few days with a friend who took me around the southern tip of Tassie, driving through the wine areas and even went up Mt Wellington for a snow fight! It was the first time in a very long time that I felt like me again (albeit with short hair!). Sadly, the return to reality was tough, as I had to make my way from the airport straight to the hospital for treatment. However, I have woken up today feeling well and refreshed. Only ten more treatments of Herceptin to go!

The only downfall about the Tasmanian trip was that I did miss the young women's group on Monday. The group last week was good. There is a mix of stories and personalities, which always makes for interesting discussion. It still amazes me that so many young women are afflicted with this disease. I heard that the average age of women who get breast cancer is over 60, yet I am hearing about more and more women who are half that age! I met one girl who was 28 when she was diagnosed. I can't even imagine getting that news when you are so young. It freaked me out enough when I was 34.

In other news, my hair is rapidly making a comeback and I bought some shampoo that is supposed to help it grow faster. I am not sure if it will work, but at least it makes me feel like I am doing something helpful. I am hoping to be able to get a hair cut before I start my new job in three weeks! I feel like new beginnings are starting, just in time for spring.

Returning to normal

It has been just over a week since my radiation finished and I am surprised at how quickly my skin has recovered. It is not back to its usual winter pastiness, but it no longer has the texture of an old leather boot. The cracking has healed and the blisters are but a distant painful memory. I will need to be careful about sun exposure, but so far things are looking good. I am starting to get more energy and haven't had my daily nanna naps for a few weeks.

Since the article came out in City News last week, I have received some wonderful messages from current friends, old friends, family and strangers. The support through this has been amazing and continues nine months after my diagnosis. Life is getting back to normal and it is a relief to not have to think about going to the hospital every day or how sick I will be after my next chemo treatment. I relish the mundane things in life - like shaving my legs which I finally did this morning. I am happy to report that my armpit hair has failed to report for duty, and I am not actively going in search of it.

The support group at the Mater for young women starts today and I am looking forward to it very much. I have been reading a blog of another incredible woman who has just started chemo and it makes me realise just how far I have come. When you are bogged down in treatment you can't see the end, then the end comes and your body bounces back very quickly. A friend of mind told me that the most amazing thing about chemo is that your body actually survives it. For those who are reading this and are bogged down in chemo - there is light at the end of the tunnel. Even on the days you can't see it - know that it is there waiting for you.

New firsts

Yesterday afternoon I did something very exciting.....(drum roll please).........I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time since January! Yes, this means I have enough eyebrows to groom! I know it might not seem like such a big thing, and this time a year ago I would have thought it was a painful necessity, but yesterday I almost skipped into the beautician with pure hairy glee. Sad, I know, but I find enjoyment in the little things now. As a flow on to the facial follicular grooming, I am now able to bid farewell and shave my hairy legs. Hopefully this action will cease any future discussions about my hairy legs at parties to which I am not in attendance.

The article came out in City News today (http://paper.questnews.com.au/papers/bcn.html). I was very relieved to find out that they didn't use one of the bald head shots for the front cover. The article was written very well and didn't make me sound like a loser, which was my primary concern after the bald anxiety. The article was about this blog and also mentioned the young women's group which starts next Monday afternoon. I am looking forward to the group. I already know two of the women who are signed up for it, so it will be like catching up with friends. It is very comforting being with women who know what it feels like to go through what you have gone through. I hope the article and this blog helps women who have breast cancer and also encourages all women to be more diligent in their health checks.

The job hunt continues, but now I can do it with confident and well shaped eyebrows!

Radiation - all over red rover!

I finished radiation last week and have not missed the daily trips to the hospital or wearing the navy paper gown. My skin has finished the burning stage and has now entered the shedding stage, which is fairly hideous. I continue to drown my skin in the assigned cream, but it just seems to make the shedding bits softer as they fall off. On the upside, I am starting to feel like myself again. My energy levels are up and I do not require a daily afternoon nap, which is a pity as being currently between jobs - I have plenty of spare time! My eyebrows are making a comeback and will soon require grooming for the first time since January! I have resisted shaving my legs until I have to wax my eyebrows, as it just seems like a waste of hair. My mother asked me about when I would start dating again. I have a new rule for that - I will start dating when I have a fringe (and a person of interest!).

To celebrate the conclusion of radiation, I have done four things - 1. dye my hair, 2. had a spontaneous celebration with homemade pizza and French bubbles, 3. went to Tiffany's and bought a necklace and 4. have been job hunting. I feel more confident with the job hunt now that I have appropriate facial hair.

Actually, since finishing work I have been pretty busy. Looking for work is a full time job. Barney has also contracted Kennel Cough (which is the canine version of a chest infection and yes, it is as gross as it sounds). I have to give him cough syrup three times a day and antibiotics twice a day - so it is a good thing I don't have a job to go to. I feel like he has been looking after me this year, so it is my time to return the favour. However, I will say that cleaning up canine phlegm is disgusting.

I am relieved to have finished another part of Operation Kick Cancer's Ass. I still do not feel like the celebrations can really start, as I still have 11 more treatments of Herceptin. Although the Herceptin doesn't knock me around as much as chemo, it is still draining having to go to the chemo clinic every three weeks. I will really celebrate when I walk through those doors for the last time! Only 35 weeks to go!

Radiation - the last week

I am heading into my final week of radiation. I am feeling somewhat anxious about what lies ahead of me. I was awake for about five hours last night worrying about a range of issues; if I can't get a job, if I do get a job but can't go on holidays in January, if my bald head is going to be on the cover of the publication coming out on Thursday and above all - hoping that my boob holds together for this final week of radiation. My boob is unrecognisable to me and is completely different to the other one. If I saw it in a boob line up, I wouldn't pick it out as mine. I look like I have had a painting accident with a tin of mission brown paint. I will not miss going to the hospital every day. There was a man in the waiting room the other day who had a visible brain tumour. It is not a place full of cheery sunshine. I am looking forward to radiation coming to an end. I was told during the week that my skin will get worse before it gets better. I am not looking forward to that, as at the moment the pain of it is waking me up a few times a night. The cream is helping, but I have to put it on about eight times a day. They have also given me gel pads to put under my bra strap, which helps ease the pain. One nurse did suggest that I not wear a bra for the duration of the radiation. Since I have not walked out of the house without a bra since I was about 11, that is not an option.

I am happy that this stage of Operation Kick Cancer's Ass is coming to an end, but I still don't feel like I can celebrate. I still have twelve doses of Herceptin over the next 36 weeks, so I will really celebrate at the end of that. However, I will definitely mark the return of my head hair with numerous cocktails! Bring it on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In other news, my eyebrows are making quite a comeback! The eyelashes are lagging behind, but I am coping with it. My leg hair has come back at a rapid rate, but I refuse to waste body hair when it is still lacking in other areas. On the topic of leg hair, I had quite a mortifying incident at the dog park on Sunday morning. There is a fellow that I have seen a few times and we always have a chat about dogs and rugby. He told me that he was at a party on Saturday night discussing my leg hair with a friend of mine. If you are that particular friend, please stop talking to men about my leg hair! If you are that stuck for conversation at a party, talk about my wit and sparkling personality (even if you have to make it up), but please refrain from discussing my body hair.

Radiation - putting my skin in the slow cooker

I am in my second last week of radiation. My skin is the colour and texture of an old brown leather boot. I have started to get blisters and the skin is cracking and breaking. It is much more painful that I had imagined. Before I started radiation I was told that it is like having a bad sunburn. I didn't make the connection that it would be like having bad sunburn...in the same spot.....every day....for six weeks. At least when you get bad sunburn you have the good sense to stay out of the sun the next day and cover up the effected area. With daily radiation, you do not have that option. I am counting down to the end of the treatments as I am over going to the hospital every day and I am over the pain. I really hope my skin goes back to its usual colour, as currently it looks like I have been a passenger in a car for a very, very, very long time!

I have commenced job hunting, but have found that chemo brain is affecting my ability to write my resume and cover letters. I had a meeting with a company the other day, but I wasn't enthused about the job, so wasn't nervous at all. In fact, I was so unenthused, I didn't even bother to draw on eyebrows or wear my wig. I have been thinking about what type of work I would like and ideally I think I would be an awesome billionaire's girlfriend, however in the absence of that I will stick with recruitment.

Not that I do this regularly, but I was checking myself out in the mirror this morning. My boob now looks like the old lady from Something About Mary. I will leave you will that visual..........

Bad week

It has been seven weeks since my last chemo and I am still suffering from chemo brain. I spent most of yesterday thinking it was Wednesday, not Thursday. It was only when I arrived early to my radiation appointment that I realised what day it was. It hasn't been the best week. Wednesday was the day I had planned to fly to Tahiti (which was poo-pooed by the radiation oncologist), so the day didn't start out that great. However, I was focusing on the positive that I only had one more week of radiation to go and then I am done! That bubble was burst when I found out that I have to have an extra week of 'boost' treatments. My skin is very very dark and being held together by the 3.4L of moisturiser that I apply twice a day, so I am not sure how it will be after another two weeks of treatments.

In addition to that news, I was advised that the company I work for is closing their Brisbane office; which means I am now on the job hunt. I am not that enthused about job hunting with no eyebrows, but it can't be avoided. It also raises the issue about when to disclose to potential employers that I will need every third Monday off for the next 38 weeks. It is good to be upfront and honest, but I don't want it to jeopordise my application. Although, once the article comes out next week - there will be no hiding from it in Brisbane! Whilst being made redundant is less than ideal, I just focus on the fact that it's not the worst news I have been given in the past twelve months!

Radiation - have lost track of how many treatments

I read a quote the other day that really hit me, 'Tough times don't last, tough people do'. It made me realise that if I can make it through this, I can make it through anything.

Radiation continues to go well and the upper left quadrant of my body continues to brown. I will need to even up the tan when radiation is finished - I am thinking a tropical island with cocktails! My annoying little cold has turned into a chest infection and I sound like a man, but I was also told the man voice could also be caused my inflammation of my voice box due to the radiation. I hope it is the chest infection because I don't want to sound like a man for the next few weeks. However, I would prefer to sound like a man than have blisters or an itchy rash, so if man voice is the only side effect of radiation, I will take it! I am still feeling pretty good, but I am not sure because I am not feeling the chest infection, or that compared to how I have felt for the first seven months of this year a chest infection is insignificant!

I took my half tan and man voice to the rugby on Saturday. I am feeling less achy and not so tired, so it was great to be out and not feel like I am dragging myself around. It was great being out again, watching the rugby with a rum in hand. It almost felt like my old self, almost. I was talking to a guy and he noticed the scar from my portacath and asked what it was from. He guessed that it was either a lung or heart operation. Since the scar is high on the right side of my chest, I don't think his command anatomy was great.

I woke up Sunday morning feeling very tired and conceded that I was sick, so spent most of the day in bed - just like a real hangover! I dragged myself out of bed to take Barney to the dog park, which I thought would be a quick half an hour outing. In the space of five minutes he was covered in mud and looked like a golliwog. The only clean part of his body was the top of his head, so I had to make a stop by the dog wash on the way home. I dragged myself home and spent the rest of the night on the couch and slept for about 10 hours last night. I have to realise that whilst I might feel ok, I am still recovering from a pretty traumatic eight months and I have to slowly get back into life - not just jump in at the deep end! I have to remind myself that recovery is a process not an event.

Radiation - week three

I have reached the half way point of radiation - only 15 more treatments to go. It is incredibly tiring going to the hospital every day, but they are getting faster at positioning and radiating me. Yesterday was the fastest time - 37 minutes. The waiting room is full of patients all who are at different stages of their treatment and some who are incredibly ill. It makes me very sad to see these patients, but I am also grateful that my treatment is going well and things are on track for a full recovery.

I am currently sporting a very distinctive radiation tan, but only on the upper left quadrant of my body. It looks as though I have a desk job which is next to a window and only get sun on one side of my body. It isn't so bad when you look at the tanned section by itself (it looks like an over cooked bread roll with a nipple on the top), but it looks strange when you compare it to the other slightly more pasty side. When you compare the two, it looks like a Benetton ad, they are very different. According to Antiques Roadshow my street value has plummeted, because as soon as you damage one of a matching pair the value drops. I am fortunate that I haven't broken out in a rash, blisters or had any skin breakages. So far, so good. Overall, I am feeling pretty good. I can feel my energy returning and it is nice not having to deal with the side effects of chemo anymore. I saw an old friend the other day, who I haven't seen for a while. I said hello and when he asked me how I was, I said 'yeah, I am fine, really well'. He looked at me with a rather quizzical look and asked me if I had been sick. I am not sure whether I think that everyone knows about my diagnosis, or if I was feeling so well, I temporarily forgot that I was sick.

I had my make-up done this morning for a photoshoot. It was strange to have that much make-up put on me, it has been a very long time. The photoshoot is for the cover of a local publication, but I am not going to go into any more details just yet. The photographer was great and made me feel very comfortable. So comfortable that when he suggested I take off my scarf for some photos - I did! I haven't had any photos taken of me with my bald head. In fact, I can't remember the last time I had a photo taken. I felt confident that with the excellent make-up job, that I didn't look like Uncle Fester, so that is good. Of the 3478934789 photos that were taken, I hope they don't pick a baldy one for the cover......

I had my second solo Herceptin infusion on Monday and am feeling like an old man (stiff joints) and am currently battling off a cold. Apparently it is a side effect of Herceptin, but I suspect it may have something to do with hanging out with my nieces and nephew on the weekend. The kids are divine, but are also petri dishes of germs. It was great to spend time with them, as I haven't seen them as much as I usually do. George picked me a long stem red rose (it was taller than him and included the roots), it was beautiful, but was from a public park where you are forbidden to smell, touch or steal the roses. I put it in the car quickly to avoid damage and George being arrested.

In other news, my eyelashes are slowly returning, but the eyebrows continue to be awol. It's like the eyebrows started growing enough for me to see them and become excited, but have gone on strike and are not doing anything else. The hair on my head also continues to grow. I am waiting for it to be long enough to colour back to my usual colour. I am not keen to revel my Lee Ling Chin hairstyle to anyone! Which makes it far more curious as to why I had it photographed today for a publication cover!!!!!!!!!!!! Perhaps it was a poor decision, but I am blaming chemo brain.

Radiation - week 2

As I come to the end of week two of radiation, I am starting to notice things are changing. The first thing I have noticed is that I am getting more comfortable with being half naked in a room full of strangers. I have also become quite talented in getting on and off the table without showing my girls to every one in the room. Another thing I have noticed is that I am more aware about my positioning, so the radiation technicians only have to do small adjustments and don't have to yank me by my ankles. Once I am lying on the table, I move into the position that I feel most uncomfortable, and then I know I have to stay like that for the next 40 minutes. I am also started to get radiation tan lines. I saw a lady the other day who was having radiation on her face and it was bright red. I have been told that the radiation has a stronger affect on areas of your body that have had sun exposure. Since I haven't been topless at the beach since I was about two, I am hoping that the redness and blistering is minimised. I have also been drowning my skin in the cream and have become quite a good contortionist at rubbing it on my back.

I have also started Pink Pilates, which is specifically designed for women who have had breast cancer. Which has been great, as I have started to feel very stiff down my left side due to the radiation. I was a little bit nervous about getting back into exercise, but I was inspired by my friend who did personal training and weight lifting through her chemo! I was also nervous about what to wear on my head during the session. I know it sounds silly, but I am not comfortable revealing my semi-bald head outside the safe confines of my house. I didn't know if it would look stupid to wear a beanie or would I look like an idiot if I wore one of my Oroton silk scarves. Decisions decisions! Life was so much easier when I had hair to wear. My hair continues to come back, but still in the places that I don't want it. I am still without eyebrows and eyelashes. My hope at the moment is that I have eyebrows for the Wallabies v All Blacks game on July 24!

Making new friends

The treatment of cancer comes with a very long list of side efffects, all of which are horrid and I have graphically discussed in previous blogs. One great side effect is that through all of this, I have made new friends. People that I wouldn't have come across in my life, if it wasn't for breast cancer. I have spent a lot of time sitting in waiting rooms, and find myself chatting with the people around me (sadly none of these people cute single men in their 30's who like bald chicks). Every one has a story. One lady at radiation showed me her rash, which was graphic, but helpful to know where to put the cream to avoid the afore mentioned rash.

As there is currently no support group for single women with breast cancer, it has been incredibly helpful being in touch with other women who are in a similar situation to me. I had lunch with two of these women on Sunday and it was great. We chatted until they started packing up the restaurant around us. We didn't talk about breast cancer and treatment the entire time, we talked and laughed about a lot of things. Whilst my friends have been amazing, it is comforting to be amongst women who have been through breast cancer. They have been a great source of information and it is good to know that I am not the only one who feels weird about starting to go out again. I am heading out again this weekend and have bought eyelashes in preparation!

I am a little sad to report that the idea of Tahiti has been canned by the radiation oncologist. Apparently, they do speed up radiation for extreme cases, but Tahiti was not a good enough reason. I thought it was a pretty good reason, but I am not the man with the power. Anyway, I will just have to start planning other things. It is the first time in a very long time that I am excited about what lies ahead of me.

Body hair and disclosure

As I enter the end of the first week of radiation, I find myself starting to think about the future. I think it is because I spend a portion of every day lying down half naked in a room full of strangers, I have to think about something to distract me from my reality. I had two close friends go on first dates this week and I began thinking about dating again. I miss getting dressed up, going out and feeling excited about a date. That feeling of butterflies in your stomach leading up to the date, and the cheeky smile that comes across your face when someone asks if you have plans that night or weekend. I have started going out again a little bit, but am still feel reluctant. I still do not feel comfortable with myself and how I look. Even though the addition of eyelashes made such a huge difference the other week, my eyebrows are atrocious and can't be salvaged with the use of an eye pencil. I can't complain too much though, my hair has started to come back. Unfortunately, it appears to be coming back from the ankles up. So I basically have hair in all the parts that you spend money on getting it removed - except my eyebrows!

I used to be a huge fan of the flirt and even did it without meaning to. The other day, I was in my car and a guy pulled up next to me and smiled. I just looked straight ahead and ignored him, I didn't know what to do. I am so out of practice, it is sad. As I find myself going out more and more, meeting new people and catching up with old people, I have started to think about when I should disclose what is happening to me. I am not going to use it as a conversational opening, but at some point it needs to be told. Hopefully at some point I will meet a guy who becomes a person of interest, when is an appropriate moment to tell my possible future husband? My treatment is going to continue for another year, and the issue of babies can't be raised for at least three years, so that can't be hidden. Another thing that can't be hidden is my cool collection of scars. Well some scars can be hidden under clothes, but some can not. Obviously, this is not something that I need to deal with in the immediate future, as nobody is going to want to date a female Uncle Fester. I hope the eyebrows appear in time for me to meet my possible future husband.

Entering the next phase of Operation Kick Cancer's Ass

When this whole drama started, I broke it down into four parts as I couldn't wrap my head around what was ahead of me. They were:

1. Operation
2. Chemo (8 doses)
3. Herceptin (14 doses)
4. Radiation (30 doses)

Once these four stages are complete, I can get my life back. I have completed stages one and two, and last week commenced stages three and four. Herceptin involves going to the chemo clinic every three weeks, having a needled plunged into my chest and Herceptin delivered intravenously. Which isn't different from chemo, apart from the side effects. I had my first Herceptin last Monday and I am very glad to say that it didn't knock me out for a week or more. I had the next day off work, but was all good the day after that. I was feeling anxious about the side effects, but I now know that NOTHING is as bad as chemo.

I wasn't looking forward to radiation as the planning stage was such a drama. However, I did very politely ask that if during the positioning stage, if someone was going to yank me by my ankles, I would like to be informed first. They took this on board and the first three treatments have been pretty easy so far. I also asked about why they wanted to take photos and why the positioning is so unique. I was hoping they weren't going to say because you have the weirdest boobs to ever have come through the clinic. I have to admit that I have checked out some of the other women, and I am pretty sure mine aren't the strangest. It turns out that they have never had to radiate someone in the prone position (that it technical medical talk for lying on my belly with my arms above my head) when they have to radiate my shoulder up to my neck, because so many lymph nodes were involved. I felt much better about this and feel I can contribute a photo of my shoulders and back of my head to a medical journal.

It is taking them less and less time to get me in the right position, so by the 30th treatment, they should have it perfected. Radiation doesn't hurt and I lie there thinking about lying on a beach in Tahiti, and this makes the hour go past pretty fast. I have been invited to go sailling around Tahiti with a friend and I am really hoping that by thinking about myself lying on a Tahitian beach, that I get to go. It may involve moving some of the radiation treatment, but I figure that if I had a car accident and was in a coma, they couldn't radiate me, so they should be able to delay treatment if I am on a boat sailing around Tahiti! Although, some may argue that if I am in a coma, I have bigger issues to deal with. The issues I have to deal with during radiation are red skin, rash, blistering and possible skin breakages. Luckily, this mainly happens to women with more generous servings of breast. Another curse for big boobed women! I had a dream that I blistered so badly that I couldn't wear a bra, so I refused to leave the house for six weeks. I had visions of myself as that eccentric lady who walks through town wearing a sheet as a sarong (although, I have far less facial hair and do not look like Old Man Finnegan). I really hope that stays a dream........

First night out - take two

After my disasterous first attempt to re-enter Friday night cocktail hour, I thought much about why it was so horrid. I came up with the answer - eyelashes. I felt that eyelashes were the key for a successful night out. As my next social event was the Wallabies v Ireland rugby game, I had to make sure that I was in fine form. I had purchased my ticket a few months ago, and I had been looking forward to this game for a long time. It was the first time I was out post-chemo and the first time I was allowed to have more than one rumbo! I had cleared it with my oncologist and he said I was allowed rum 'in moderation'. I suspect that his definition of moderation and mine may differ slightly. I did some investigating and purchased some false eyelashes. The beautician up the road was kind enough to apply them for me, as my last attempt to apply false eyelashes almost ended up with me losing sight in both eyes and gluing three fingers to my eyelid. I was pleasantly surprised how much of a difference having eyelashes made me feel. If I ignored the fact that I had no eyebrows, I felt like I was slowly returning to my old self.

Armed with my friends, drawn on eyebrows, wig and eyelashes I headed out after the game. I was amazed how much confidence it gave me, I didn't feel like a fraud at all and even managed to talk to strange men. Well, not that they were strange, rather they were strangers to me. Although, as it turned out at least one of them was a little strange.......

I was very controlled and didn't go too crazy on the rumbos as I didn't want a hangover. Although, I don't think anything could be worse than a chemo hangover. It was good to be out again and feeling somewhat like myself. I had forgotten the joys of waiting for a cab home on a Saturday night, but when I finally crawled into bed at about 3am, I was exhausted and happy.

Storm in an E cup

After my radiation planning day, I thought the next time I would have to go to the clinic would be for treatment. I was wrong. I was called and advised that I had to go and have a 'dry run' on the machine, just to make sure the positioning was correct. I now think this was code for 'we didn't get it right the first time, but don't want to tell you that'. I was at Lana's house and she came to the appointment with me as a last minute decision. I am so glad that she did. I thought I would be there for 15 minutes, go on the machine, get into position and leave. How wrong I was.

It took four radiation technicians over two hours to find the right position to radiate me in. This is in addition to the hour they spent last time doing the same thing. I had to get three more tattoos and have another CT scan. I wasn't worried about radiation, I thought it would be easy. Lying there on the table, half naked in the freezing room, I couldn't believe that this was my life. I was surround by four strangers who were pulling, pushing, poking and talking about me like I was a piece of meat. It was so impersonal and undignified. I actually cried twice while I was lying there and none of the four people even noticed. I was so glad that Lana was with me, so at least I had someone notice that the 2 hours of half-naked imperonsal manipulation was not pleasant for me.

Even after the three hours of positioning, I am still not quite sure why it took them so long. I know I have to be on my stomach for the treatment due to the generous size of my girls, but surely they are not the biggest set they have had to radiate! I have been asked if they can take photos and use them in teaching presentations and also for a journal. I am not sure how I feel about this, as I really don't want them ending up on facebook! Now, I am not an expert on boobs and have seen my fair share in my life, but surely mine aren't that different from others. I left the hospital exhausted, feeling violated and thinking I have the weirdest boobs in Brisbane. This is another reason why it sucks to be single going through this, it would be nice to have a partner to assure me that my boobs are not weird and are not going to appear in a medical journal about freaky body parts. It would also be helpful to have a partner who can wash off all the pen marks they draw on my back.

First night out

Almost two weeks after my final chemo, I was still feeling exhausted but was eager to start getting back into the swing of life. It was Friday night and drinks had been organised at a new bar in the Valley. Usually, it would be a no brainer - I would be there with make-up, glamour shoes and a fabulous cocktail ring. However, getting ready I didn't feel like myself, I actually felt a bit nervous. I have been out to the movies and dinner, but it has been seven months since I step foot in a bar. I had a shower and had to have a rest as I was exhausted after that. I was getting dressed and had to have a sit as choosing shoes also exhausted me. Putting on make-up made me cry, as putting on mascara merely highlighted that fact that I have about two stumpy eyelashes left. Mum offering to pencil in eyebrows didn't help my cause either, again it highlighted the fact that I have Whoopi Goldberg's eyebrows. I just didn't feel like me. I felt like I looked like Uncle Fester with make-up and wig. It is horrible to feel uncomfortable in your own skin. I just don't feel like me anymore. I keep expecting to wake up one day and feel like I used to feel. However, I know that will take time and even then I don't think I will ever be the same. Going through something like this changes you as a person, you would be a robot if you didn't change.

It was good to see friends at the bar and was good to be out on a Friday night. However, I felt so self conscious and felt like everyone was looking at me and knew the I was a fraud. I had fake hair and fake eyebrows. Although, half the girls in the bar had fake diamonds, fake designer handbags and fake boobs, so I wasn't the only girl dressed up in fake.

I have had the goal of making it to the Wallabies V Ireland game on June 26. I have finished my chemo and have not yet started radiation. I have cleared the consumption of rum with my oncologist, so I am excited. It has been a dry Reds season, which was very very very difficult for me. I will probably have two rums and pass out - but they will be the best tasting rums ever! I just hope my eyelashes and eyebrows make an appearance in time for the game.

Just as I had to adjust my parametres in November to take into account my treatment, I have to adjust them once again for my recovery. I have to be realistic about my energy levels and what I can do, but I also have to start pushing myself a little bit. Being able to come back to work after so many weeks away has been great. I am exhausted by the time I get home, but it is worth it. I have to stop being nervous about doing the things that I used to love doing - like going out for cocktails, driving up the coast and going away for the weekend. I just have to keep thinking that every day from now on is going to be a little bit better. I am preparing for the next stage of treatment which is radiation. Once the 30 doses of radiation are complete, then there will be only one stage left before I can reclaim my life.

Intravenous Domestos - part 8 - the last chemo

Sitting here four days after my last chemo session, I am feeling.......crap. My attention span is about three seconds, so I apologise if this blog doesn't make sense. I know that this week is a milestone, and I know that it is another stage of the treatment over with, but I can't see through the post chemo hangover haze. Friends and family are excited that the chemo stage is over, but I am still too bogged down in the side effects to start any celebrations. This week has been a struggle. I have spent more time in bed this week compared to any other chemo treatments. It is an effort to move. I am not sure why I feel like this. It might be the accumulative effect of chemo, or it might be that I no longer have the strength to put on my brave face. The past seven months have caught up with me and I am exhausted.

It is now nine days after my last chemo treatment. I had to stop writing the above part last week as I was overcome with the urge to poop, puke and passout. My sister has called it the triple purge and although I am sure you pay $$$$ for something similar at an expensive health resort - it is not pleasant. I am feeling better, but still not myself. I am not as exhausted and have managed to get off the couch in the past few days, so things are looking up. It has been a strange week. I have tried to be enthusiastic about my last chemo finishing, but I have failed. I have been thinking about it a lot this week and I think I am just exhausted. I feel like I have been standing on a beach being hit by waves, and after each wave I have to stand up and get ready for the next one, but this time I was knocked down and didn't have to prepare for the next one, so I am staying flat on my ass.

The most amazing thing about chemo is that your body actually survives it. I always knew that the chemo phase was going to be the hardest part of my treatment, but I don't think anything can prepare you for the shopping list of side effects. I was thinking about it this morning, the drugs are so toxic to your body. So much so that all your body hair falls out and you can't grow new hair. You feel nauseous, dizzy, your skin dries out, your gums bleed, you get mouth ulcers, dry mouth, you have visual and hearing disturbances, your nails can flake off, you get body sores, your bones ache, your limbs feel heavy, excessively watery eyes, you are chronically exhausted, you lose your concentration, you can't sleep, eat, taste food or poo (except on the days when you have severe diarrhoea), have headaches, it depletes your immune system to nothing, can have an adverse affect on your heart function and will probably leave me infertile. However, having said all of this - it is still better than having cancer.

I have started planning things for the rest of the year - a few trips and events. I am starting to feel like the black cloud is slowly lifting from my life. I am starting to look forward to doing things that I used to do and get back into the swing of life. I just have to remember that recovery is a process, not an event. Nobody is going to flick a switch and I will be back to my normal self.

Intravenous Domestos - part 7

Mentally I felt good about getting closer to the end of chemo. However, physically I felt horrid. I had stopped having the dream where I have an allergic reaction to the chemo and end up in a coma for six years, so that was a good sign. My hair had started to grow back, so I was looking less like Uncle Fester and more like a chia pet. However, my eyelashes and eyebrows were still absent. It also felt good being able to start making plans, without having to check where I am in my chemo cycle. The accumulative effect of chemo was getting to me, I was chronically exhausted and even moving my arms and legs was an effort. I was sick of the side effects and just wanted my old life back. Intravenous domestos number seven went pretty much the same as the last few. It was long, horrid and tiring, but I managed to survive. I had gotten used to the side effects and was dealing with them better. My blood levels were down and I was being held captive at home, as there were so many viruses around, it was best to avoid people. Which meant no work for me. It was like being a caged animal. Although, to be fair in that first week post chemo, I did manage to get out twice. Once to go to the doctor and the second time was to go to the butcher. Talk about living it up! In hindsight, it was best that I wasn't allowed in public. Given that I was sporting the super hot trifecta of cankles, shingles and baldness, I didn't have the strength to fight off the hot men who would no doubt be chasing me down the street.

It was at this point that I started to think about going to a support group. I had thought about it early in my diagnosis, as there is a specific group for young women. When I looked up the topic for that week, it was about young mothers who are dealing with breast cancer and children. I didn't think it would be relevant or appropriate to go along and talk about my 20 half-babies on ice or Barney. Lana and I had our own support group and she was a great source of information and has become a good friend. Single women who are dealing with breast cancer have different issues to deal with, such as the egg harvesting and being alone in those dark lonely hours. I wasn't totally alone, I did have my family, friends and Barney. It is surprising how a six month old puppy can show more compassion, care and love then some grown men. When I was feeling better, Lana and I decided to go along to the young woman's support group. However, the speaker for that week was a man who was talking about dealing with a partner who has breast cancer. As we are both single, it wasn't relevant for us so we went to dinner and a movie instead. It would be good to have a support group specifically for single women, with topics that are relevant.

I thought I was coping well mentally with the past few months. I am a talker, so talking to friends and family about what I have been going through is a huge help. I have also found it beneficial to write the blog and get these thoughts out of my head and out into the world. A lady I had met at chemo had recommended a psychologist who specialises in women who are going through breast cancer. Although I felt I was coping ok, I didn't want to find out that I am not dealing with it and have it bite me on the ass in six or twelve months. So, I made an appointment. She was very friendly and easy to talk to, and telling my story in an hour was quite emotionally draining. However, she did give me the 'sane' stamp of approval, so it was good to know that I am dealing with it now.

It was also in this week that I had my radiation planning day - which meant tattoos! I wasn't so worried about the radiation as I had gone with Lana once and it seemed quick and pain free. I think that if I can cope with chemo, I can cope with anything. I posed quite a challenge to the radiation staff and it took them an hour to find a position they could radiate me in. As it turns out the position is on my belly with my arms above my head, they say it looks very uncomfortable, but it is the same position I sleep in, so I am well in my comfort zone. If it wasn't for the freezing room, the radiation machine and the four people staring at me half naked - it would be just like having a nanna nap! I must say I was a little disappointed with my tattoo. It isn't even worth showing anyone for sympathy as it is the size of a pin prick. I will be surprised if the radiation therapists will be able to find it.

The insurance battle

The week before treatment number seven, I was feeling well enough for my parents to go away for a week. My parents usually went away quite often, but they hadn't gone anywhere for the past six months. I enjoy my own company and I also missed being alone. It had been six months since I had more than a few hours to myself. Mum was reluctant to leave me, but I think it is important for them to have time to themselves also. I had to ensure mum that I had enough support on notice if anything went pear shaped. They did pack up and go, but mum called about four times a day to check up to make sure I hadn't disintergrated without constant supervision. It was a tiring week, but I enjoyed the time to myself.

It was also during this week that my four month long fight with the insurance division of a large bank came to a head. I had income and loan protection insurance with this particular bank. However, according to their policy breast cancer isn't covered under sickness, it is covered under trauma. Whilst I will attest that having breast cancer is traumatic, I can't see how it is not an illness. Conveniently for them, I didn't fit into the trauma category either. My last option was to apply under disability. After filling out countless forms, sending in letters and personal details about my finances and medical condition, I was declined under disability. It turns out that working a maximum of 20 hours every three weeks doesn't make me disabled enough. I felt like I was being punished for trying to keep my life together and keep my job. This was also the line that I was given by Centrelink. I had applied for a sickness allowence, but was declined as I earn $8 too much a fortnight. I was advised this after spending about 4 hours filling out forms, so you can imagine I was super happy to hear that news. I was also advised that if I drop my salary by $123 per fortnight, I would be eligible for a payment of $6 a fortnight from K-Rudd. I know I am not thinking very clearly at the moment, but this didn't seem like a good deal. K-Rudd can keep his $6 a fortnight! I can't even believe that $6 a fortnight is a payment category.

Not being a person who takes no for an answer easily, I dug my heels in with the bank. I thought the purpose of paying for insurance was so that you can claim when you are in need. After speaking to many people who were not very helpful, I was given the direct number for a supervisor who was supposed to help me sort my issue out. As it turned out she was initially helpful and my payment was approved. However, the payment was paid into my loan account, which I was unable to access, so I basically had been fighting with them in order to pay themselves back. As I hadn't missed a payment and was not in arrears, I was not happy with this situation at all. I rang the helpful lady back, but she had turned into a condescending, toxic and unhelpful person. I asked if the payment could be paid into my account that I had been paying my loan out of, since I hadn't missed a payment. She kept parroting to me that that was not the policy. I asked her if I could discuss that policy with someone and she just kept saying that was not the policy. This was on a Friday afternoon and I had chemo again on Monday. I told her that I had to pay $400 for chemo on Monday and how was I going to do that with $38 in the bank. This was not exactly true, but was good for dramatic effect. She spat out the following reply - 'We are not here to pay your chemo bill Karen'. It was at this point that I took a deep breath, counted to ten and said 'I am not asking you to pay for my chemo. Thank-you very much for your time, but I will not be needing to speak with you again' and hung up the phone before I let a barrage of swear words escape my mouth. I rang back a few minutes later and asked to speak with her direct supervisor. I am not usually one to complain about poor customer service, but I felt that this particular toxic woman deserved to be reprimanded. I am not a particularly sensitive person, but I found her comment was insensitive, abhorrent and just plain rude. I was advised to go to a branch and see if they could sort out my issue that day. I went to my local branch and spoke with a young girl who gave me the best customer service I have ever received. She was sensitive, informative and came to me with solutions to my issue. Basically, she was the antithesis of the toxic person I had dealt with earlier that day. It took an hour and a half, but this lovely young lady sorted out my issue. She had the misfortune to speak with the toxic lady, who made her cry. She was also going to put in a formal complaint about the toxic woman as was the branch manager. I took in a bunch of flowers for the young girl, who was so helpful and when she saw me she started crying. I would advise anyone that has income or loan protection insurance to check the policy to see what is covered. A friend of mine was talking to her insurance broker about income protection insurance and was advised that not all types of breast cancer are covered. It's not like you have a choice of which one to get!

Monday came along and it was chemo day. I was feeling quite perky and upbeat, which was strange for a chemo day. However, I had solved my issue with the bank, I had secured Powderfinger tickets and I knew that the toxic woman was going to get in big trouble - so I had a few reasons to smile.

Intravenous Domestos - part 6

I had heard from a friend that there was a study done in America (of course) about Goths who are going through chemo. Apparently the dark nail polish preserves their nails. So, armed with this knowledge I went to the Chanel to purchase some Rouge Noir nail polish. The lady was very friendly and chatty and asked if I was buying the nail polish for a special event. I told her that it was for chemo and told her about the Goths. She then went nuts and gave me samples of everything! So, purely for medicinal purposes, I booked myself in for a manicure and pedicure before treatment number six. Unfortunately, it was not medical enough to claim on my health insurance. I also booked myself into the dentist and I had heard that it is good to have a check up before having too much chemo. It has something to do with you producing less saliva, which can cause a faster build up of plaque. I was also showered with samples, but they weren't nearly as exciting as the Chanel sample bag. Most of the samples had to do with combatting my dry mouth, as I was drinking about half a litre of water during the night, which meant many nightly toilet trips. For the record, if you are ever offered fruit salad flavoured oral lubricant, politely say no and keep drinking the water!

Before the intravenous domestos number six started, I saw the oncologist and gave him my long list of side effects. There were a few of these side effects which required other medication. I was on so many drugs that I had to eat a smaller breakfast just to fit them in. He lowered my dose of the terrible Toxotere, so hopefully that would make my recovery shorter and less horrific. I had gotten into the routine of the chemo treatment. Treatments were made easier and seemed to go faster, by chatting to other patients. I found it very helpful speaking to one lady who also had breast cancer, but was further along in her treatment than me. It was also eye opening to speak to another lady who had breast cancer, but it had spread to her bones. It made me realise just how lucky I was that I was officially cancer free and all this treament was just mopping up any microscopic cancer cells before they lodged somewhere and could do damage. I haven't seen that lady for a while, but I pray for her and hope she is ok.

The recovery from this treatment wasn't as bad as the last one, thanks to the drop in dose of Taxotere. Instead of taking two weeks, I felt better after ten days, so that was an improvement. I still had no appetite and found it hard to eat thanks to the bleeding gums, but I did find it helpful to drink a glass of Sustagen rather than eating a meal. Even when I was feeling nauseaous, it was good to have something in my stomach, as the longer I went without eating, the more nauseaous I would feel. However, after this treament I had a new side effect of blowing blood out my nose. As the chemo was accumulating in my system, my platelets were down which lead to me bleeding. My legs had a great collection of bruises and I was feeling exhausted. I was keeping my eye on the prize though - only two more of these horrid treatments to go! Followed by 30 doses of radiation and 14 doses of Herceptin, but we won't think about that yet.

Things I am grateful for....

I have been thinking about the past few months and all the things that have happened. Whilst it has the most difficult time in my life, and I have been faced with many challenges, there have also been special things that have happened. From the beginning I have been overwhelmed with the love and support from family and friends. Not only from my close friends, but also from people who I have lost contact with over the years. I am grateful for the cards, letters, phone calls, flowers and presents that have been delivered. I also loved the many pop-ins and delivery of hugs, kisses and presents for myself and Barney. Even when I was not up for visitors there would be gifts left in the letterbox or at the front door. I have received cards and presents from people I haven't even met and live on the other side of the world! One night I woke up at about 2am and was feeling particularly alone. I started thinking about everything that was ahead of me and I started crying, wishing that there was someone there to comfort me. I rolled over and I saw a box that was full of cards and letters and I thought I am lucky, I don't have one person to comfort me, I have about 100 people who are thinking of me. I am grateful for all the masses that have been said for me and the many prayers. I think by now I have a direct line to God!

I am very grateful for the friends who cooked meals, so that my mother wouldn't have to think about cooking after spending a day at the hospital. I am grateful for my cousin who sent me a present after every chemo treatment, so there was something to look forward to in that week. I loved the fact that my cousin, who I hadn't seen in about 10 years, flew up from Melbourne to spend the weekend with me. I love that I get daily phone calls from people seeing how the treatment is going. I am grateful for the many people who leave voicemail messages and I apologise for not returning them all. I am grateful for my work colleagues who have been nothing less than amazing and supportive. I am grateful that my sister who did the breast cancer walk and raised over $2000 for research into this insidious disease and bakes me my favourite cookies. I am grateful that my brother flew up from Canberra to see me before my operation, even though he was only in Brisbane for about 5 hours. I am grateful to my friend who flew up from Sydney and spent the weekend in Noosa with me. I am grateful for the people who came and saw me in hospital and helped pass the boredom. I am grateful that I met another girl, through family friends, who is going through the same thing as me. She and I have become friends and we are each other's support group. I am grateful for my friends who still invite me to every social event, even though I can't make them. I am grateful to my friends who come and have dinner with me at 6pm, so I can be in bed by 7.30pm. I am grateful to the Queensland Reds who made it worthwhile for me to get out of bed and make it to the home games.

I am grateful that I live in a country where I have access to the best medical care. I am grateful that I have breast cancer and that through research and development, there is so much treatment and support available. I am grateful for my parents and siblings who have always loved and supported me. I am grateful to have such a wonderful and loving home to return to in order to heal. And finally, I am grateful to me - I have cancer, but I have the strength to kick its ass!

Intravenous Domestos - part 5

I felt informed and anxious about the side effects of the new drugs heading into intravenous domestos number five. I know that pharmacutical companies are obliged to list all the possible side effects and that it doesn't mean that you are going to experience them. However, they were pretty horrid and I didn't want to involve myself in anything that may remotely result in any of these side effects. I was particularly anxious about my nails falling out. I had lost my hair and my dignity, I wanted to keep my nails. I had been speaking with nurses and they had told me that the new drugs I was going on seemed very well tolerated and that the side effects were not so severe as my first drugs. I found it very helpful speaking with the breast care nurse about the side effects. She was very kind and went through the extensive list of side effects and I asked her how often she had heard about people experiencing them. Apparently the nails falling out doesn't happen often, but then again I did have my first car stolen (and returned) five times, so I am not a big follower of statistics. I also read that about 700 women under the age of 40 are diagnosed with breast cancer every year in Australia. Which, when you think about it - doesn't seem that many, especially since I know about four others.

I had my usual sleepless night before chemo and was feeling physically sick on the drive to the hospital. In order to avoid my nails falling out, I had to put my hands in ice gloves for the duration of the treatment. I am not sure how it works, but I think it has something to do with my circulation. One thing that I do know is having my hands in ice gloves for two hours is bloody painful. However, I am very stubborn and didn't want my nails to fall out, so I just put up with the pain. I felt the risk of frostbite was worth keeping my nails.

One thing I was not looking forward to was that 5-7 days after the drug infusion, and after putting up with the usual side effects, there was a second wave of side effects that kicked in. So, after the first week of the usual exhaustion, nausea, headaches, insomnia, confusion, dizziness and aching joints; I could look forward to body sores, mouth ulcers and bleeding gums. I must admit I was looking forward to (well, that might be too strong a term), but I thought that the diarrhoea would be a welcome change to the constipation. However, the severe diarrhoea came after a week of severe constipation. I kept having these waves of diarrhoea, dizziness and nausea all at once. I would go to the bathroom and not be sure if I was going to poop, puke or pass out! When I felt like this, I would call my mum, then sort out the poo issue. That way if I puked or passed out, I knew the cavalry was on its way with a bucket and a cold compress. On day five, the mouth ulcers, body sores and bleeding gums kicked in also. It was horrid. I couldn't eat properly, and when I did manage to eat, I had to keep rinsing my mouth out as my gums would bleed so much all I could taste was blood. It was a very effective diet, but somewhat extreme.

It was during this second week that I was exposed to a virus and was fighting a fever for five days. By the fourth night of having a high temperature, my oncologist said that if it didn't get below 38 degrees, then he would look at putting me into hospital until my chemo was finished. The thought of going to hospital for just over two months was less than appealing. As my mother was hovering above me armed with a thermometre, I was thinking cool thoughts. Thoughts of Greenland, Iceland and polar bears filled my head. As I was waiting for the thermometre to beep, I felt sick with worry. My temperature came out as 37.9 degrees, I was saved by .1 of a degree!

It was also during this second week that I think I hit my lowest point. I was tired, cranky and in pain. I was just over the whole thing and wanted it to be finished. I thought about all the people that had told me that these drugs were better tolerated than the first ones I was on. All I have to say is 'liar, liar pants on fire'. I know that everyone is different and people have different reaction to drugs, I just seemed to get every side effect possible! These drugs knocked me for six. It took me a good two weeks before I felt well enough to leave the house.

Intravenous Domestos - part 4

As I prepared to head into intravenous domestos part four, I had become used to dealing with the side effects. The chronic exhaustion, nausea, metallic taste, dizziness and bathroom issues had become part of my daily life and I was getting used to having them around. My lead up to each chemo treatment hadn't changed - sleepless night and feeling sick at the thought of going to the clinic. I knew that the chemo was going to make me feel better and the staff were great, but I hated going and had it in my head that it was only eight trips and I could survive that. However, I had learnt that the drug I had to have for twelve months was also to be administered through my portacath, so that meant 14 more trips to the chemo clinic. So, treatment number four was half-way through, if you ignored the other 14 trips over the next 12 months. I was so disappointed to know that I would have to go through the same process, at the same place, 14 more times. The people around me were excited that treatment number four was a milestone, and I guess it was, as it was the last of the first lot of chemo drugs. However, I found it hard to celebrate anything.

The accumulation of the chemo was taking effect and it was taking me longer to get over the worst of the side effects. I was still overwhelmed with how exhausted I was. I would have a shower, then have to have a lie down to recover from the effort of showering and dressing. Some days I would need a lie down straight after the shower, so I would have the effort to get dressed. During this time Barney was my constant companion. Even whilst I was showering, he would be lying on the mat, sticking his nose in the shower, just to be close to me.

Another thing that I felt hard to deal with was how much I had changed physically. I would catch my reflection in a window and wouldn't even recognise myself. I had gone from looking like me, to Kojack to Uncle Fester. I was bald, pasty, pale and had dark rings under my eyes. It was not a good look and I avoided mirrors as much as I could. When I did look in a mirror, I wouldn't connect that the person looking back at me was me. I had joked that the half-boob job, new hair and new figure were all part of the extreme cancer make-over, but it was hard to see anything past Uncle Fester.

Once intravenous domestos four was finished, I started to think about the new drugs. For the first time since my diagnosis, I looked on the internet for information about these drugs. I went to the pharacutical company's website and downloaded information about the side effects. The list was long and horrid for both drugs. Just when I was learning to deal with the side effects of the past three months, I had new ones to deal with. I do have to admit though, I was looking forward to the severe diarrhoea, it would make for a nice change from severe constipation I had been living with. I was trying to balance being informed and being scared about what was ahead of me. It was good to read the side effects as some of them seem quite minor, like swollen ankles, but if they occur you have to head straight up to hospital as it could be a sign of heart failure. Another side effect that was good to know was that your nails can turn black, flake and fall off. Good times ahead!

Things I have learnt.....

As my journey to Shitville continues, there are a few lessons I have learnt along the way. I have learnt that no matter how many times I brush my teeth or eat mints, the metallic taste in my mouth is not going away. I have learnt that people react to bad news in very different ways and I can't expect people to react in the same way I would. Most people have be amazing and supportive, but there have been a few people who have just disappeared. I know that sometimes it is hard to know what to say, but it is better to call and say 'I don't know what to say' rather than say nothing at all. I have learnt that no matter how my mother tries to disguise egg and make me eat it, I always know it is in there! I have learnt that googling anything medical is not a good idea. I have learnt that sleeping tablets do not work as fast as general aneasthetic and counting back from ten doesn't work. I have learnt that I don't always have to put on a brave face and I can show people how I am feeling. I have learnt that I have a good shaped head to be bald and have a strange brown mark on my scalp. I have learnt that having eyebrows really makes a difference to how your face looks.

I have learnt to be more aware of changes in my body. Not feeling the 3cm tumour and the 17 enlarged lymph nodes scared me and now I notice everything! I noticed a strange tube like thing running down my side from my wound. I showed a few doctor friends and they were not encouraging. After having a look at it one replied 'Ewwww, I have never seen anything like it before. That is the strangest thing I have seen'. I had the same reaction from the radiologist, which was also less than encouraging. It turned out to be nothing, but it was good to have it checked. I have learnt to listen to my body, when I need a sleep, I just sleep. I have learnt that worrying about things doesn't change the outcome. I have learnt when any medical professional says, 'This may cause some discomfort...', that you should brace for pain and go to your happy place. I have learnt to appreciate being healthy and happy. I have learnt that sometimes having four anti-nauesea tablets isn't enough to stop you from being sick. I have learnt that my mother will do absolutely anything for me and at the age of 35 I still need her. I have learnt that no matter how sick I am feeling, I always feel better after a shower. I have learnt that I have amazing friends and family. I have learnt that I can't help but smile when I see Barney.

Intravenous Domestos - part 3

Round three of intravenous domestos came around very quickly. I had been pretty fortunate so far that my side effects hadn't been as horrific as I had thought. The benefit of having a very active imagination is that the reality is never as bad as what you create in your head. The thing with chemo is that it is accumulative. So it's not like the more you have the more your body gets used to it and the side effects lessen. The more you have, the worse it gets. I was well prepared for chemo treatment, I had lathered on the numbing cream to the point where I couldn't feel half my chest. However, I still find the whole plunging a needle into my chest thing quite uncomfortable. Again, I think that is due to my over active imagination and the not so distant memory of having the needle plunged into my chest seven times.

I had my blood tests done and my white cell count was very low. This meant that my immunity was getting hammered, which is a sign that the chemo is doing its job, which is good, but not good for my immunity. I had to have an injection to increase my white cell count the day after chemo. This particular injection cost $2000. I have vowed never to complain about paying my health insurance ever again! I was told that this was done in your bone marrow and can cause discomfort - but only in the parts of your body that you have bones. So basically from head to toe I was going to be in a world of pain. Usually the week of chemo I keep a very low profile and stay at home. However, I ventured out the next day to the doctor to have my injection. I know it is sad, but I was excited to be venturing out of the house, which is a sad reflection of my social life. The days following the injection, I felt like an old man - tired, cranky, bald, hadn't pooped in days and and aching in my bones.

As it happened, this was also the week I had to go back to the fertility doctor for my pubis pellet implant to stop my ovulation. I had to have this done every 28 days to try and preserve the eggs I have left. It is not dissimilar to having a dog microchipped and involved another very large needle going through my skin. I also employed the use of the numbing cream for this process. Having well and truly succombe to 'chemo brain', I could never remember which side the pellet had to be implanted, so always ended up smearing far too much cream and couldn't feel my pubis for a good three hours. However, I felt lucky to be getting out of the house twice in a week! I think my poor body went into shock with the chemo, bone injection and pubis pellet implant in the space of five days. It took a good ten days to go back to feeling less horrid.

Round three was done, which meant one more round of these drugs and then onto the new drugs, which caused another level of anxiety!

Things I miss....

When your life is thrown into chaos, there are many things that change. There are a few things I miss and will never take for granted again. Just litttle things - such as I miss having hair. I put all my hair products and appliances in a box and realised just how much stuff I had for my hair. Not that I am particularly high maintenance, but I still managed to have a lot of hair stuff. Going from having long hair to no hair in the space of a few weeks was quite a change. I miss having eyebrows and eyelashes. It is hard to give someone the evil one eyebrow raise when you have none. At the moment, I look like a pasty Whoopi Goldberg. I was wearing mascara in the hope that it would help keep my eyelashes. However, after one shower, I came out and I looked in the mirror. I was bald and pasty with dark rings under my eyes. I reminded me of someone famous, it took me about five seconds to realise that I looked like Uncle Fester! I miss being able to walk around without people looking at me wondering why I have a scarf on my head. I also miss not being in pain. Waking up every time I rolled over in bed because it would hurt, didn't make for restful sleep. I miss my social life. I really miss being able to make plans for the future. Not that I am all doom and gloom, but I feel like there is a big black cloud hanging over me at the moment. I can't just say 'yes' to invitations, I always have to check about when chemo or doctor's appointments are scheduled. I also miss being alone and my independence. I miss being able to go to work every day and make a contribution. I miss being able to enjoy food and not have a chronic metallic taste in my mouth. I really think the pharmacutical companies should make chemo mint flavoured, this metallic taste is horrid. I would even be happy with rum flavoured chemo when there is a rugby game on, just to give me that rumbo feeling! I miss being able to get in my car and drive up or down the coast on the weekend. I miss not feeling nauseous and dizzy. I miss feeling happy. This time a year ago, I was really happy- my life was going well. I miss having a few rums at the rugby and flirting with boys. Nobody wants to flirt with a female Kojack. I recall one Friday night when my parents were heading out to dinner. I was getting ready for bed (at the late hour of 7.30pm) and my mother kept coming into my room asking my opinion about shoes and accessories. I remember thinking how nice it was that they still went on dates after 42 years of marriage. After they left, I started crying. I missed getting dressed up and going on dates. I miss having energy and not feeling exhausted all the time. I miss being able to see my friends when I want to and not have to see who is blowing their nose or coughing. I really miss seeing my nieces and nephews when I want. Not wanting to get too graphic, but I miss going to the bathroom and not having it be a drama. I miss not having to discuss my bathroom activities with anyone! At the moment bathroom visits can last either twelve seconds or two hours. I remember after one particularly crippling bathroom visit, my dad gave me some topical cream to ease my discomfort. The list of side effects included - dizziness, fainting, nausea, headaches and anal leakage. I weighed up the side effects with how I was feeling and felt that the risk of all of those was better than how I was feeling. If I never have to discuss or experience manual evacuation again, I will be a very, very, very, very happy woman.

I know that this is all temporary and I will be able to return to my old life, but in the meantime, there are days where is sucks to be me. I am aware that things could always be much worse and I am fortunate that I am going to get the opportunity to get better and do all those things that I miss once again.

Intravenous Domestos - part 2

I had made the decision that the weekend before each chemo Monday, that I would treat myself and do something nice, rather than waiting around with a feeling of dread about chemo Monday. This weekend I treated myself to a weekend at the Noosa Sheraton. My friend had flown up from Sydney, and we spent the weekend lazing around the pool. I was feeling ok, so it was lovely to have a weekend of indulgence.

Heading back into the chemo clinic on Monday, I felt better prepared about what was ahead, however there were still a few surprises. The first treatment I had my portacath implanted and the needle and tube was already in place. This was done under general aneasthetic, so I didn't feel a thing. However, as they have to access the portacath each chemo treatment, I had heard about a numbing cream which helps numb the area where they plunge the needle into my chest. What I hadn't heard about the numbing cream is that it takes about an hour to take effect. So, whilst I was sitting in the waiting room, with the cream sitting uselessly in my bag, I thought I could put it on when they give me the first of my anti-nausea drugs which also takes an hour to kick in. What I was not aware of was that they plunge the needle into your chest before that for a blood test. I thought I would just suck it up and could cope with a needle being plunged into my chest once. Unfortunately for me, my portacath is quite a deep one and they had a few issues accessing it and getting blood from it. After the seventh attempt, the nurse noticed I was getting quite distressed and decided to take the blood from my arm instead. As I have said before I hate needles, so being stuck seven times was not pleasant. I can't even look at the needles, but I did hear that the last one they stuck in me was 2.5 inches long. My mother was sitting and holding my hand during this process and she said it was like a nail going into my chest. Ever since that experience I make sure that I have tube of the numbing cream in every bag I own. I have never forgotten it since!

Unlike the first chemo treatment, I went home after the treatment had finished. The nurses had advised me that it is wise to get the drugs out of my system as quicky as possible, so I had to drink lots of water. I am always anxious the night after treatment, as I am unsure of how I will wake up the next day. I remember being so worried about not drinking enough water that I drank and drank and drank and ended up getting up about eight times to go to the bathroom through the night, so I woke up exhausted the next day. I had made an effort not to google anything about the drugs I was taking. I thought that if I read everything bad that could happen, then it might become a self fulfilling prophacy. Although, I did read a book called 'understanding chemotherapy', which was a great read. It was good to have general knowledge about what to expect, but not to be so focused on the bad side effects. I just kept thinking that no matter how bad the side effects are, or how sick I got - it is better than having cancer. I kept focused on the fact that it was the cure that was making me sick, not the disease. I knew from the start that they were going to blast me, so I just had to make it through the fall out.

One thing I did find very hard to deal with was the fact that my social life had come to a grinding halt. My friends have rallied around me and have been a great support, but I am a very social person and it has been hard not being able to plan things and just say yes. I always have to think about where I will be in my chemo treatment before deciding to attend anything. Not that the social life was particularly exciting during this time, as I was usually in bed by 8pm. My friends have been great and do not object about dinner bookings for 6pm.

I remember watching Grey's Anatomy season five during this time. As it happened it was the season where Izzy became sick and was having chemo. I was lying in bed watching the episode when she got married. I remember being really upset as her husband was putting her to bed and some of her hair came out. He gave her a big hug, kiss and kept telling her that she was beautiful. I was thinking where is my hot doctor husband telling me that I am still beautiful when I look like Kojack?????? My friends, family and Barney have been great, but it would be nice to have that one person to turn to for support.