Ok, I realise I have many people reading what I write at
present (12910 page view's at the last check). Some of you may not like what I
am about to write, some of you may not even agree with the fact I've so openly
and honestly decided to write this, but I need to. I set up this blog to
offload how I feel, a way to write how I feel and leave the feelings there,
something to look back on in the future and something, most importantly, to
help me move on through my journey with some of my sanity intact.
Yesterday I had chemo 6, my last chemo to fight this lump. I
am scared to say last chemo ever in fear that that may tempt fate and almost
invite cancer to darken my doorway once again at some point in my future. Before
they give me each chemo I see my oncologist, he checks how I'm doing both
physically and mentally, prescribes any medicines that may help me and ensures
I am fit for the next infusion. Now chemo 5 wasn't exactly an easy ride. Not only
do the side effects of each dose provide a cumulative effect, ultimately making
me feel weaker and weaker and making me look sicker and sicker, but this time
as my immune system dropped I picked up three bugs. Firstly, I have two ingrown
toenail's, I had an pre-assessment appointment for surgery needed on them that
I had to cancel as it was on the day of the cancer diagnosis. After this they
became the least of my worries and due to low immunity and low clotting levels
during chemo I knew nothing could be fixed until I was through this cancer
business. Those still being ingrown, and the fact my body is so run down and
not quite bouncing back as it quickly as it has previously, I ended up with them becoming infected quite
nastily and quickly over about two days, requiring antibiotics. I also picked
up a cold at about the same time thanks to the change in weather, I am
asthmatic, prone to chest infections, so no surprise there I developed a chest
infection, requiring a different antibiotic course. Now this would take a
"healthy" person time to heal from, I had 5-7 days from starting
antibiotics to seeing the oncologist. Luckily my bloods have picked up, despite
them being at their lowest so far prior to chemo. My oncologist asked how I
felt about having the last dose. I could quite easily have said I wanted a week
off to recover; I could have walked out that room and had a week to myself
where I could begin to feel well again. Instead I said I wanted to go ahead, my
stubbornness raising its head again, however if I'd have taken a week off I
know I'd have been disappointed in myself almost. That is the first time I have
had an option to say no to chemo at that time, the first choice in this madness
I have actually been given, but I did it anyway. It probably means I am in for
a really rough couple of weeks, but that is it then, or so I hope.
Sitting having chemo for me is a strange experience, that
fight or flight natural body response kicks in with a vengeance. I so badly
want to push the nurse away, rip the needle out or run as far and as fast as my
shrivelled up body can physically manage and then some more. All that release
of natural body chemicals and having no way to escape makes me very tired, all
I want to do is curl up in a tiny ball as they poison me. After the first half hour,
I kind of come round and sit there with half a smile on my face giggling with
my mum and the nurses. Yesterday halfway home I cried and I cried repeatedly
quite a few times for the rest of the night. Feeling unwell from all the bugs,
lack of sleep, being wired from the steroids, feeling like I should be happy
like everyone else that the last dose is in but knowing I have two weeks for
the worst of the side effects to be over and then 6-12 months before all the
side effects are fully gone. Then there is the fact I never ever thought I
could possibly get to number 6, there are so many times I have wanted to give
up. It really does all get a bit overwhelming sometimes.
As you can imagine I wasn't feeling at my best yesterday,
the last thing I needed was to get into the argument I did with someone who I
thought was meant to love me and care for me as much as I do for her. I was,
and still am, so cross, upset and hurt right now, hence why I need to clarify a
few things and offload how I'm feeling. I was told last night that I needed to
get over myself, I "only have cancer" and that there are a lot of
people with cancer who are worse off than me, mines only mild and I should stop
moaning as I'm "lucky".
Firstly, yes, there are people who are worse off than me, and
in some respects I have been lucky. I was originally told by a specialist in a
hospital breast clinic that that lump was nothing to worry about, many women
would have grasped onto that and have left it there. I feel gut instinct counts
for a lot, so when just months later it was twice as big I went back to the GP.
Which I tell you now isn't easy, knowing that you'll have to get your breasts
out for at least 3 different strangers to have good old poke at is often enough
to put people off going the first time never mind going again after being told
it's nothing. Anyway I went back, and it's a good job I did, statistics say an
average of 1.4 people per 100000 will be diagnosed with breast cancer aged
20-24, that makes me unlucky I feel, but I caught it before it managed to
spread. Had I not gone back when I did this awful disease could have been
practically anywhere in my body, suppose in some weird twisted way that might
make me lucky.
Oncologist's have a special computer system in which they
input the details of your personal cancer, such as age at diagnosis, size of
tumour, grade of tumour, node involvement and positive statuses. This spits out
an almost personal average survival rate for the next 5-10 years, this is normally
done post-op, I however needed to know how much difference chemo would make to
my long-term survival rate to help me through the last few doses. I was told
that with surgery alone and no further treatment I had a 48% chance of being dead
in the next 5-10 years! Still lucky? Chemo gives me an average of an extra
17.7% chance at life; other treatments give me more and more chance too. This has
helped me push myself through; an extra 17.7% is huge! Some people are told 1%
benefit of chemo and are then given the option. 17.7% means I had no choice;
chemo is too beneficial for the oncologists to give me the decision. Definitely
helped me sit through each and every infusion after I'd heard that!
As for that lump being a "mild cancer", if there
even is such a thing, mine's not. It's grade 3, the highest grade they have
(different from staging which I will be told post-op). This means the cells
divide rapidly and they look very different to "healthy" cells under
the microscope. Hence why it grew so rapidly, 3.5cm at diagnosis and 3-4 weeks
later it was seen at 6cm on MRI with a suspicious patch next to it that they
originally felt to be the tumour breaking apart, possibly the first sign of it
trying to spread. That patch was not visible on ultrasound, so I pray it is
hormonal as they then suggested it may be, just like the streak on my left
side. This is why I require an MRI again before my op, to ensure it's no longer
there as that would change my surgical plans quite drastically.
If I have the gene they have tested me for this thing could
turn back up anywhere and at any point. For the rest of my life with every
innocent headache, stomach ache or pulled back I will be in constant fear that
it is not so innocent and the thing has returned somewhere else, uninvited and
definitely unwanted. All they can do with the TP53 gene is regular scans, there
is no preventative measures like there are with the BRCA genes. This is something
I am currently trying not to worry about, as I may not have it and the thought
of having it is a little overwhelming right now.
I sometimes feel as if I am sat still in life watching my
friends have a social life, worry about normal things such as their weight and
how they look, watching people get pregnant or get married. I am over the moon
for these people, do not get me wrong, sometimes however it is hard not to feel
sorry for myself. I may never be able to have children, I have changed so much
both physically and mentally these last 4-5 months and I have no idea if cancer
is what will ultimately cause my death.
For the last 4-5 month's I have avoided looking past the
next three weeks, some days I have not even been able to see past the next day.
Now I feel that I can look a little further into my future, have a life, be
happy and maybe at some point in the distant future feel "normal"
instead of the freak show I currently feel. 6 months ago the majority of people
probably wouldn't have taken a second look at me in the supermarket, now I feel
people staring, either at the back of my head or quite openly as they stand
near me in the queue or walk past me. I crave normality, hair and the usual
worries that come with being 24.
I'm sorry for the length of this post and I'm sorry if there
is anyone out there who disagrees with me offloading this. I need to do it for
my own benefit for a change. Maybe I should stop putting a smile on my face so
often and tell people how it really is. Cancer is horrific, I would never wish
it upon anyone.
Yes I have, in some ways, been lucky, in other ways I'm not
so lucky. However you view it I am still fighting for my life every single day,
at just 24.
