to find out if it had spread and then what my treatment would be. This all
seems like such a crazy long time ago to me, because, I guess, it was – it was
over a month ago now that we got some idea of what lies ahead. I’ve been trying
not to write about it all too often because honestly, it’s so boring, even
though at some points there is nothing else in my brain but this.
my lymph nodes and they got all the cancer out, so now I’m free of it and won’t need any more surgery. But the bad news is because of the make-up of
the cancer and the fact it was trying to attach itself to my chest muscle, I
still have to have some bloody chemo (6 sessions, 3 weeks apart), and then some
radiotherapy (28 sessions), and then some drugs after that (2-5 years worth),
which all sounds like a barrel of laughs, right? They did give me the odds of it not returning without the treatment but they weren’t really that great or worth taking the risk for – I have fur faces to see grow old.
to have some IVF treatment. Which is where we’re are at the moment.
round of IVF, so that I can inform my oncology team when I’ll be able to start
the chemo (it was meant to start on the 26th September but that hasn’t happened), and then when I know when I’ll be starting the chemo, I’ll have an
end date for the chemo. Which means we can plan the radiotherapy and get an end
date for that. And that’s the important thing right? The end date! Because with
the end date comes the end!
The problem with all the uncertainty on dates is it’s
bloody hard to plan anything when you don’t actually know what you’ll be doing
or how you’ll be feeling. I mean, I plan to sail through these next 6 months
with a glass of prosecco in hand and a cold capped head full of hair, I know
the reality might be jolly different but I hope it isn’t though.
fraud. Because I’m not sick. Yet. The cancer has all gone and I got over the op
pretty easily, besides some allergic reactions to the plasters they put on me. The scars are small. And my life hasn’t that changed much yet, well, besides having to go
to the hospital all the time and the
massive cloud of thoughts that seems to have taken over my brain and won’t let
me sleep or concentrate because I am thinking of what’s to come. But people are treating me differently and
that’s what makes me feel like a fraud. People are, in general, being nicer to
me, hugging me tighter when they see me, asking me how I am more, buying me gin
and other gifts none of which I mind, other people, mostly my mum, are treating
me with kid gloves and not letting me do anything (and some other people have
just disappeared altogether, which is fine as long as they don’t expect me to
pop back up in their lives when they might be having boyfriend troubles in the future).
waiting……..which is a problem for an impatient being like me!