Okay, so it’s been a while since I wrote here about my cancer. I have been lazy about writing more than an instagram caption. So so lazy. But as Insta turns everyone against it with new updates, a blog seems like a good bet.
So, where are we. The last blog was about my second round of Enhertu. And I won’t lie and say that treatment got much easier. It’s still kicking my ass – I’ve now had my 8th session, with 2 at a reduced dose – I am still getting a bunch of sickness post treatment, and I am mega fatigued most of the time.
BUT, there is some good news to counteract all the side effects.
Scan results.
I have had 2 scans since I started on it……….
“Got the best birthday present ever yesterday – good scan results!
My oncologist called me yesterday to tell me that although he’s not seen the full report, the radiographer had called him to say everything is responding really well to Enhertu. He just needed to let me know right away.
Which is the best news to get any time – and even better when it lands on your birthday.
I then got to tell my mum and dad in person, and see the joy on their faces. But for me, I’d genuinely not considered another option. There wasn’t one. This wonder drug was going to work. It was going to have good results. I just needed to hear it out loud. So Jim and I heard the news, high fived, and went on with our day. Insane, right”
“I got the call on Friday to say I’ve had another really great set of scan results.
Shrinkage all round.
Enhertu is doing its job.
I genuinely could not be happier. All this feeling terrible has been for a purpose.
It really has.”
So you can see. It isn’t all doom and gloom in the world of my cancer life. Enhertu has shrunk all the cancer. All of it. Some of it is so small it’s hard to see.
Yes, I still have to go to treatment every 3 weeks.
Yes, I am still getting my ass kicked by Enhertu.
But, yes, I am still here to get my ass kicked…….
Dear Emma,
My name is Shima, and I work in the admin team at a hospital in the UK. Today, as I was searching for some pictures of Great Ormond Street Hospital, I stumbled upon your page. I just had to reach out and let you know how much joy you brought to my day.
You are a truly beautiful soul, both inside and out. Your zest for life, intelligence, and strength shine through in everything you do. As someone who has navigated four decades of life filled with challenges, I’ve come to believe in the magic of existence. Despite facing incredible odds, I’m here, writing to you. From being a child during the Iranian Revolution to enduring years of war as a teenager, and facing countless trials thereafter, I’ve learned that life’s challenges only make us stronger.
I won’t delve into the specifics of my personal struggles, but I want you to know that I believe in the kindness of God. He will guide you through whatever challenges come your way, just as He has guided me. You are a survivor, and I can’t help but feel a connection to you.
I’d love nothing more than to share a cup of Earl Grey tea with you in London someday, to exchange stories and bask in the resilience of the human spirit.
With the kindest regards and love,
Shima