SIXTY-FOURTH SUMMER

Two Years On

2011-06-03T00:18:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am just a spit away from my 66th birthday on 13th June, and 2 years from my diagnosis of breast cancer. So....how am I?
I'm alive and kicking, and all seems to be going OK. My last mammogram was clear, and my last blood test was fine.
Unbelievably, I still have on going issues as a direct result of the Chemo, the surgery, and the medication I'm taking.
The Chemo has left me with burning, yet numb toes. This is quite unpleasant at times.
The surgery has left me with lymphoedema in my left arm, and the medication makes all my joints ache quite severely.
I believed at one time that everything would return to normal. Sadly, I think not now. But, I'm OK.and I have much in my life to enjoy.
Our daughter Kerry gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Samantha, on 2nd March 2010, and I see them as much as I can. She is such a treasure, and never fails to lift my spirits.
Our other offspring have all got children. They are all treasures too, but live too far away for us to see them regularly. Andrew's wife, Joelle, is just about to give birth to baby number two, probably next week. I am now fit enough and well enough to go and stay with them to help after the birth of the baby.
The cancer journey was long and hard. I re-read my blog today, and it seemed that I breezed through the first half of the treatment. Now, as I recall it in my mind, that is not how I think of it. It was a nightmare. But I did it and I'm here to prove it.

A Year Older

2010-05-21T02:10:00.000-07:00

Having started the blog in such detailed and lyrical fashion, the majority of readers will have decided this dribble is not for them and will have switched to twitter, twatter or twatever they find more amusing.

For those who have perservered, they will have noted that this blog post dates the earlier by a whole twelve months. Time enough for the author and his fellow traveller to become grandparents three more times. The interegnum, as it would be described in political jargon, is a story on it's own and will not, out of respect, be woven into the ensuing ramblings of these peripatetic pensioners. Armed with as much worldly ignorance as can be expected from leafy suburban dwellers we head for Hong Kong and then the famous "two eyed" town of Ipswich situated somewhere in sunny Suffolk. We leave for others a Melbourne winter which as can be seen from the attached photo began with a practice in early March.

RADIOTHERAPY

2009-12-04T19:54:00.000-08:00

My final radiotherapy treatment was on Thursday December 3rd. That was my red letter day. Not only did I finish all my treatment, but I also saw Peter, my surgeon. I am to have another mammogram before I see him on the 10th May, 2010. He tells me it will be painful. They will take a lot of images, and I will worry that they have found something....but, he says....they won't find anything. What a comfort he is.
The radiotherapy was a doddle. I had 25 treatments over the course of 6 weeks. My left breast is very sunburnt, but apart from that, I feel really well. The tiredness I expected, has not happened. In fact I feel so well, that I'm going to have a hit at badminton on Monday night. That's when I'll find out my energy levels!!!
There are two issues remaining from the chemotherapy; 1) My tingling and numb hands and feet are still bad after 9 weeks. One of my big toe nails dropped off last week and it looks as if I could lose more; 2)The thrush infection in my mouth, which developed during my third chemo treatment, is improving very slowly with medication.
The surgery has left me with lymphoedema of my left arm, and is unfortunately a lifetime issue. I am determined not to let it beat me. I have ordered a pressure sleeve which I will have to wear when I am travelling, especially when I'm flying. I am seeing Avril, who is fantastic at lymph drainage. She believes she can get my arm back to normal, and I believe she can, given time. It's a slow process but I believe I caught it just in time.
My hair is growing, albeit very slowly. I hate the grey, but Pete says I can colour it. I was under the impression that I wouldn't be able to colour my hair for at least 6 months because of the chemicals. He used the word 'bullshit' on that idea. He is a very conservative man, so I believe him. It's still too short to colour, but as soon as it's long enough, it'll be done. Perhaps, then, I'll get my identity back, which I felt I lost when I lost my hair. Until then, the wig stays on!! It's a good wig. People who don't know about my cancer, don't know it's a wig. It's so like my own hair.
As I look back on the last 6 months, I have had one hell of a tough journey. It was emotional, it was painful, and it made me very sick. I did believe, at the beginning of my treatment, that I was strong and fit, and that I would get through the treatment without too much bother. I couldn't have been more wrong!! It is the hardest thing I have ever tackled in my life. I am very happy it is over. The recovery, I am told,will take a year from the end of treatment. I want to do better than that. I am feeling stronger each day, so in another 12 to 16 weeks I hope to be back to my old self again.
It was not exactly the holiday Colin and I had planned. But there is always next year, and I hope many more years ....thank goodness!!

Next Stage-RADIATION

2009-11-10T01:46:00.000-08:00

My 1st radiation treatment was on Thursday 29th October, exactly 4 weeks after my final Chemotherapy treatment. It’s a doddle after the chemo. I drive to Monash Medical Centre on Centre Road, Bentleigh, and register my name at the radiology department desk, and within a couple of minutes, I’m called through. I undress to my waist and put on a gown. Another wait in another waiting room, but only for a minute, and I’m into the radiology room. Before every treatment I must state my name, address, date of birth and what part of the body they are treating. I then lie down on the bed. The girls check the measurements and make sure they are absolutely accurate, and then leave the room. They turn on the radiology beams for 24 seconds from two different angles, 12seconds from each angle. There is no pain. It’s easy. Today I completed my ninth of 25 treatments. Generally I have to go five days a week until the treatment is completed although this week I only have 4 treatments. I don't know the reason why. There will be side effects to the treatment. In a few days, my skin will start to redden and it will look sun burnt. It will become tender, but I have cream to rub on, which I do twice a day. I am hoping that's all that happens, as the stage after is much worse. The skin starts to peel and becomes an open wound. This can be very painful. I will wait and see. It is early days.
As easy as the radiation treatment is, the Chemo treatment continues to cause me pain and distress. My hands and feet are still tingling and yet feel numb at the same time. They are surprisingly painful. I cannot bear to touch them, and in bed, the sheets rub against my toes, causing me much pain. I still have numbness around my lips and down my back. My leg muscles still feel fatigued when I go for a walk, and I often have to stop and catch my breath. That has eased slightly in the last week. Another development is Lymphoedema of the left arm. It frightened me at first, but Nicole, my daughter in law, is an Occupational Therapist, and has done a bit on Lymph Drainage. Graham, Nicole and the kids were staying with us for the Spring Carnival, and she helped enormously by doing some Lymph drainage on my arm. On Thursday (12th) this week, I am going to see a specialist in Lymph drainage, who I hope will help me rid myself of all the fluid, and give me advice on how to treat it if it appears again. I am also getting booked into the Lymphoedema Clinic at Monash Medical Centre. They will take over the management of my problem, and also measure me for a sleeve to wear when I am travelling. It definitely doesn’t rain, but it pours. What else can happen????
On the bright side, I can taste food again, and have been able to for a couple of weeks now, though I believe I still have an infection of thrush in my mouth. I will have to check with my oncologist if he can prescribe something stronger than the lozenges he prescribed before, as I believe my body must be immune to them.
I have seen two of my Chemo friends since my final treatment. Last Friday I met Stella, another breast cancer patient, for lunch. She is my mentor, a wonderful person. We just hit it off. I am so pleased I met her. She calls a spade a spade, and she would tell me what I was in for when I went in for my Chemo. She was one Chemo treatment ahead of me. Since I saw her last, she has had a mastectomy. Her tumour had reduced enough to do the operation. She will now go on and do her radiation treatment, and her prognosis has changed from being not so good to very good.
Last Sunday, Colin and I went out with Sally and her husband Kevin. Sally had ovarian cancer. She is in remission now and is very happy with how well the treatment worked. We went for Yum Cha to a restaurant in Bentleigh that Colin and I had never been to before. The food was lovely, and it was great to catch up with her again. We will do it again soon.
And so life goes on. I have been told that side effects can last for anything up to one or two years, though it seems generally that they disappear within 3 to 6 months. Even a few months are too long. It’s a very long hard and emotional journey. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.
My hair is 3 millimetres long. It is grey on top and snow white down the sides. YUK!!

MY FINAL CHEMO TREATMENT

2009-10-14T23:36:00.000-07:00

For my final entry on the Chemo treatment, I wanted to write a day by day account so that I could read back in a few years, just what I had endured. I started out with good intentions knowing that the first and second days were the easy days. I am afraid my good intentions evaporated quickly as the effects of the Taxotere took over my body. I must have been dreaming to think that I could even lift a pen on the worst days, so my blow by blow account will be, as usual, from memory.
My final Chemo was on Thursday 1st October at 10.30am. There were many new patients on the Oncology ward. Those people I had got to know, had finished their treatments, and were all hopefully on the mend. But my friend Stella arrived. She was continuing her journey with the drug “Herceptin” which she will have intravenously, once every three weeks, for a year. I will make sure I stay in touch with her.
There is an obvious build up of chemicals in my body with each treatment. This time, I felt that I had barely recovered from treatment 5, and here I was having treatment number 6. Colin drives me to the hospital and comes into the ward with me. He waits for the nurses to hook me up, and then leaves until I phone him to come and pick me up. Today’s treatment took three and a half hours to administer. Most of the time I feel drowsy, I assume it’s because of the drugs they give you. First is the saline to flush the veins. They add a couple of drugs to the drip to help against nausea and ward off infection, and then they add the Taxotere. Saline is given at the end as a final flush. All done...I can go home. I always feel well for the first couple of days. There must be something in the drugs that puts you on a high. Unfortunately, it comes to an end all too soon.
On Friday morning, I drive back to the hospital for my $2000.00 injection. Luckily, I don’t have to pay for it. Good job, it’s the 6th one I’ve had!!! As a parting gift to the nurses, I give some beautiful handmade chocolates. They do such a great job, and as lovely as the nurses are, I hope I don’t have to see them again in that ward.
I felt good Thursday, Friday, Saturday and most of Sunday. This was so much longer than usual. Perhaps this time, the side effects weren’t going to be as bad!!!! Gary had said he would reduce the chemicals by 10% because I had reacted so strongly and badly to the treatment.
On Saturday, Colin and I went to the races as usual. I sat inside all afternoon. It was too cold outside. It was a pleasant quiet afternoon. We had lunch, and Col wandered off to watch the horses. We were home by 5.30pm. In the evening, we went off to see “High Society” at one of the local theatres-“CLOC”. They are such a good company, although we felt this was not up to their usual standard. However, it was a good night out.
Kerry-Lou rang on Sunday morning, and invited us over for an early BBQ at 5pm. I felt OK when I said yes, but as the day progressed, I wondered whether it was the right thing to do. I was not feeling too good as we drove to their house, but I decided I could cope for a couple of hours. So at 7pm I asked if we could leave. I could feel the rot setting in.
The pain which I had endured in my 1st Taxotere was now minimal, thanks to the patch Gary had prescribed, but there is no escaping the lethargy. Monday, Tuesday and most of Wednesday I hardly strayed from the bedroom. As the lethargy continues, the nausea and general feeling of illness begins and then takes over. Each day, as the white blood corpuscles are destroyed, the feeling of being ill, overwhelms the body. The digestive system is a mess, my skin starts to dry out and irritate me. My mouth is dry, and there is an infection of thrush starting up again, and even worse...the ulcers start to appear on the tongue. By the time Thursday comes round, and I have to see Gary again, the lethargy and nausea is gone. In truth, this 3rd Taxotere was not as severe as the last two, but it’s still not good.
I ask Gary my prognosis, and without hesitation, he tells me that I will make a full recovery. He will put me on the drug “Promera” for 5 years. This drug stops the oestrogen in the body, which is what feeds my cancer. There are side effects from this drug. It raises Cholesterol levels in the body, and it attacks the bone density. I will have both these tested before I see him on January 14th. There will be regular testing to keep an eye on things. I will have to take fish oil tablets and glucosamine to help lubricate my joints as there may be some pain. Even with all that to contend with, I left his office on a high. It was good news.
My 3rd Taxotere, however, is still not finished. After a week, the side effects continue. My feet and hands feel as if they are burning. They redden as if they have been sitting in very hot water. They tingle with numbness, and my finger nails and the tips of my fingers hurt, as do my feet. I wonder how long this will take to disappear. It certainly hadn’t gone before I went for my last treatment! My cheeks, my nose, my lips and the upper part of my back feel numb. It is a very unpleasant feeling and it’s there all day every day. My eyes water and the tears run down my cheeks and make them sore. The skin is very tender on my face. Food has no taste....no that’s wrong...food tastes awful. I eat a lot of soup. I have to mash solid food to a pulp because of my sore mouth. A new side effect has appeared in the last few days. My muscles ache. I can only walk slowly and yet it feels as if they have run 400 metres. I am also feeling weary, much more so than I have before. I hope this goes before I begin my radiotherapy. I know that makes the body weary.
It is now 2 weeks since my final treatment. The numbness in my feet, hands and round my mouth persists. The muscles still ache, I am weary. I have to keep telling myself that it will all be gone in a couple of weeks. Food is beginning to get a little flavouring, but not enough to relish. I am really looking forward to enjoying my food again. When will I be able to celebrate? And when will my hair start to grow. Each day I look, but each day there is no change. I will have to be patient!

TAXOTERE 2

2009-09-21T21:57:00.000-07:00

This treatment is Hell. It is 13 days since my 2nd Taxotere treatment, and I have still not recovered. I have ulcers in my mouth which are so sore, I cannot eat solid food. This has been ongoing for a week now. I have also had thrush in my mouth, which is painful. My Oncologist gave me a mouthwash with 1% cocaine, to try and numb my mouth so that I could get food down me. It helped only slightly. Eating is an uphill battle for me. I am desperately hoping that in a couple of days, I will have recovered enough to give me a week’s grace before my final treatment on October 1st. How I would love a hamburger and chips!!!
I have worked out that there are four stages with this particular treatment.
1) The easy days....days 1 and 2 when I feel well and full of energy.
2) Days 3, 4 and 5 there is bone pain. This has been subdued greatly by a prescribed patch which lasts for three days...as long as the pain. At this stage too, there is lethargy. I have no strength in my body to do anything. Even opening my eyes is hard work. Sleep does not help.
3) Days 5, 6 and 7 are when it begins to get really bad. As the pain disappears, the feeling of being unwell takes over. It’s hard to describe. It’s a whole body thing. Perhaps it’s like having flu for three weeks, and you can’t stay upright for more than a few minutes before you have to lie down again.
4) Now that Gary has helped rid me of the worst of the pain, I have decided that stage 4 is the worst stage. It begins during stages 2 and 3. Firstly, there is the thrush infection in the mouth. I have tablets to help, but it is a slow process, and before that clears up, the ulcers appear on my tongue. At the same time, because the skin is being attacked, and I have weak blood vessels in my nose, I get constant nose bleeds. My mouth and lips feel numb, my fingers and toes feel tender. There is a constancy of numbness mixed with a feeling of pins and needles and extreme heat in my feet. When I go to bed, the sheets hurt my feet. It is very uncomfortable. My skin goes red and blotchy. It is not a pretty sight!!!By this time, I am at the end of my tether. I am fed up, and hope that all this is worth the hell through which I am going.
I wondered how I would deal with this treatment before it all began. The outside world thinks I’m doing so well, but in truth, I am not doing well. I’m getting through it only because one day follows another. It has been a tough road. I would not want to do it again.

TAXOTERE

2009-09-01T02:20:00.000-07:00

I believe that I am slowly recovering from the worst week of my life! Treatment number 4 was certainly no joy ride. I went into the Cabrini Day Oncology ward on Andrew’s 37th birthday, the 20th August, confident that I would deal with this treatment as well as I had dealt with the first three treatments. I was told what to expect..... tiredness, a few aches and pains in my joints and muscles, plus the usual sore mouth, which comes with the low immunity.
It all started much the same as usual. The day of the treatment was fine and for these final three treatments, there is no need to stay in hospital as I did with the first three, so home I came. On Friday morning, I drove back to the hospital to have an injection into my stomach to help with bone strength, and sat in the oncology ward next to my new found friend, Stella, who is one treatment ahead of me. It was all very convivial on the ward. We chatted and laughed, and had morning tea together. Then just before we left, Stella quietly said, “It’ll all start tomorrow Kerry.” When I questioned her, she said that for her, ‘Taxotere’ made her feel like ‘wet spaghetti’, and her muscles ached and she had no energy. I was still confident that I would cope well.
Stella was right. On Saturday afternoon, I could feel my bones beginning to hurt. Colin and I decided a walk was in order. We only did a couple of ks, but I could feel the pain getting progressively stronger with each passing minute. By bedtime, it was a very strong pain all through my lower limbs, up my shins to my knees, and then on up to my hips and lower back. I took a couple of Panadol 500mg. By12.45am, I was at screaming point! I moved to another bedroom, and took an ‘Endone’ tablet, which contains morphine. It knocked me out for a few hours, but the pain was there with a vengeance when I woke early on Sunday. Stella certainly never mentioned pain like this!!
The ‘wet spaghetti’ came at the same time. My whole body was limp, as if it was exhausted. My eyes wouldn’t stay open, but I couldn’t sleep. The pain continued. It was unbearable. On Sunday afternoon, we decided to drive to St. Kilda and take a short walk along the promenade so that I could get some fresh air and a little exercise. It was a slow process, but we managed to get to our usual little cafe, and have a cup of tea. We hoped the walk would ease the pain. We were wrong. Sunday night was a nightmare. I took Panadol at 8pm and an Endone tablet at 10.00pm. The combination of drugs knocked me out for a few hours, but as I was waking up, I was hallucinating. It was all very weird. The pain was still so bad, and it was only 3.00am, so I took another ‘Endone’ tablet, and nodded off for another couple of hours. I was praying that on Monday it would begin to ease. My own rule was to take Panadol during the day, even though they weren’t doing much good, and leave the Endone for night time. All these pain killers were making me feel lousy, and I knew the sooner I got off them the better. But the pain was with me all day Monday. I wanted to die! It was too much for me to bear. I took my final ‘Endone’ tablet at 10.00pm on Monday night, and slept more peacefully. On Tuesday morning, the pain was there, but I felt that it was not so strong. I hoped it would soon be gone. By Wednesday, the pain was gone.
Unfortunately, as one thing disappears, another thing appears. These Chemicals take over the whole body, and kill good cells as well as bad ones. Now my white cell count would be low. My mouth was starting to hurt with a thrush infection, which is a very common complaint with Chemo treatment. By the time I visit the Oncologist on Thursday, I have mouth ulcers as well as thrush. The thrush is easy to deal with, but the ulcers will only go when my white blood count rises, after day 12. Between seeing the Oncologist on day eight, and as I write this missive on day 13, I have had one day when my mouth was so sore I could eat nothing, and three days when all I could manage was liquids. At least today, I have been able to eat more normally. In fact, at last, I am beginning to feel much better.
That treatment was a Battle Royal, and I have two more to go. My Oncologist tells me the next two won’t be as bad. I hope he’s right.
There was some light relief yesterday. I went to a “Look Good Feel Better” seminar. It helps women undergoing treatment for cancer to make them look good and feel better! We had a lesson in make-up, a wig demonstration, and they showed how to wear hats and scarves. They served a beautiful morning tea with sandwiches and fresh fruit. It was fun, and there were lots of laughs. It was most enjoyable. Apparently these seminars are run all over the world, and are financed by the makeup industry. We got lots of samples of makeup in our ‘show bags’.
I was sitting near a woman who had just had her 2nd ‘Taxotere’ treatment and I was interested to know how it had affected her. She described it as worse than ‘FEC’ but she definitely had not been hit like I had. Her muscles ached slightly, and she had some infections. The saddest sight at the seminar was seeing a beautiful young girl, probably in her early thirties, and about 7 months pregnant. I didn’t want to know what the problem was, because I knew it would not be good. On the other hand, it is amazing what they can do nowadays. I wish her a speedy recovery, and hope that all goes well for her.

2009-08-16T03:25:00.000-07:00

THE HALFWAY POINT

At last I have climbed the hill and have reached the half way stage of my Chemotherapy. It’s been a long steep climb. Hopefully, the journey on the other side of the hill will be a gentle slide down, and move more quickly than the upward climb. I go in on Thursday August 20th for treatment number 4.The cocktail of drugs in my Chemo will change this week. ‘Taxotere’ is the new drug. I believe it attacks the bones, the muscles and the skin. The first three treatments attacked the digestive system and inner organs. The likelihood is that my body will ache with the ‘Taxotere’. I will wait and see how badly it affects me. I was hoping to have a hit at badminton before the 'Taxotere' but I've missed out. I feel I need the need the exercise so badly.
I went to see Jill Ainslie, the radiotherapist a week last Monday. She was wonderful, and explained everything that would happen during my radiotherapy treatment. They have decided that my course of radiation treatment will run for 5 weeks, not 6 weeks, and I will begin a month after my Chemo has finished. I will have to go every week day for 5 weeks. Before my first session I will have a CT scan, and 6 tattoo dots, so they can hit the same spot with accuracy each time I go for my treatment. The actual treatment is painless, but Jill tells me I will get pain in the areas of surgery, and I will feel very weary. The weariness can continue for quite some time after the treatment. Hopefully, I will be feeling better by Christmas. It is a long journey!!!! I get very weepy....often. I cannot look at my bald head in the mirror. I think that losing my hair has been the worst thing for me. I look “The Victim”, and of course, I am! I always swore I would never see grey hair on my head. I will have no choice but to watch it slowly grow back....grey!
Life has been quiet since I last wrote. We have had no visitors staying with us. We did go out for dinner with Kerry, Gary, and friends Paula and Barry on our wedding anniversary on August 5th. We enjoyed the best Thai meal I’ve had since my visit to Thailand, and this was at our local Thai Restaurant! I’ve done my usual coffee mornings with friends, and we celebrated one of the “girls” birthdays with a luncheon last Wednesday. So my social life continues.
Joelle and Andrew have just rung and told us that they are expecting a baby in mid February. Colin and I are overjoyed. We have been waiting patiently for a long time to hear this news. In fact we had decided that perhaps they didn’t want children. We are very happy for them. Bernie and Harry (Joelle’s Mum and Dad) will be ecstatic. Good news always lifts the spirits.
Here’s hoping the next three weeks go quickly.

Nearly Half Way

2009-07-31T04:05:00.001-07:00

It’s 31st July today, and I have just returned home after completing treatment number three. Three down, three to go. Nearly half way, but in truth, the half way point will be just before my fourth treatment which will be on the 20th August.
So, what has happened during these last three weeks? At the end of my last blog I wrote that I was hoping to go for a walk with Colin, and we did. I am finding that I am not getting enough exercise, and my body is craving exercise. Colin and I go for two or three walks a week, which is not enough for me. To compensate, I walk to the shops a couple of times a day, and go for a walk occasionally with friends. I need to start playing badminton again! The treatment doesn’t seem to bother me at all. Perhaps the only side effect I notice is a slight weariness during the first week, but it isn’t bad enough for it to affect me greatly. Physically I am really well. Mentally, the whole business is a strain. It is a long journey and the deeper you get into it, the longer it seems to get. Most of my friends say how quickly it is passing, but for me, it is slow. I feel low, I feel sad and I get depressed often, especially if I’m home alone. There are many tears. I would not wish this on anyone. It is a long hard road.
Last weekend was a happy release from my sadness. Graham, Nicole and the children came and stayed with us. It was lovely to see them. We met them in the city on Saturday afternoon and had some lunch. We then decided a trip up the river was a good idea—and it was. At home we ate the best seafood marinara I’ve ever tasted. The seafood was fresh from Victoria Market that morning. I made the sauce, and Nicole prepared the seafood. On Sunday, Grandma and Grandpa took Lachy and Jessica to the park just around the corner from home. They loved it. At lunch time, we all went down to Ricketts Point and walked along the beach, then had lunch in the cafe. They left from there and it was sad to see them go. They live so far away, and I don’t think we’ll see them again until Christmas.
On the Tuesday following, my friends Audrey, Margaret and Wyn, went to our local library where they were showing the original version of “To Kill A Mocking Bird” starring the gorgeous Gregory Peck. It was a great movie, and Gregory was just wonderful. The following evening, Colin and I went to watch “The Merchant of Venice”. Al Pacino was great as Shylock. It was another good movie.
I have to keep finding things like this to do. This is what helps me over the bad days, otherwise I would go crazy.
On Monday I go and see about my radiotherapy. I have to go every day for six weeks once I have finished my Chemo. I envisage having to wait the obligatory three weeks following my final Chemo treatment before they start on the radiotherapy treatment. It’s a long long road!!!

FRIDAY !7TH JULY

2009-07-17T00:02:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY 17TH JUNE

It is a few weeks since I have written my blog. My 2nd Chemo treatment was last Thursday, 9th July. The nervousness I felt the first time I had treatment was gone. This time I knew what to expect. I did have one experience which I don’t want repeated!! A male oncology nurse was given the job of putting in my drip. He looked very nervous as he was getting the trolley ready. It took him a long time to find all that he needed, and he did it in slow motion. His body language was telling me that he did not want the job. But it was his job, and he had to do it. I have good veins, so he had no problem finding a good vein. He picked the biggest vein in the back of my hand and started to press in the needle. He was struggling, but he got it in. He then had to clear the way with some saline solution. As soon as he started to inject the saline, the skin started to blow up with the saline. He turned to the nurses immediately, and admitted a mistake. He had gone right through the vein and pushed the needle into the flesh! Phillipa, the senior nurse, came over and took over. Thank goodness. She found another vein towards my wrist and did the job without a problem. I have requested not to have the male nurse again! Apart from that incident, all went well. It took about 3 hours to drip the cocktail into my body, and once done, I was taken up to the ward for the night.
I spent a peaceful night on the ward in a single room, so was asleep early. I awoke on Friday morning feeling good. By 9.30 I was back on the oncology ward to have an injection into the stomach. I think that’s to help with bone strength. By 10.00am, I was home.
My days following treatment were as the first time. I have had no real side effects of which to speak. Perhaps I feel more tired on the Tuesday following treatment. Unfortunately, there is something else appearing on the scene---Sadness, dejection. It's not depression, but I am very weepy. I get ‘down’ at the drop of a hat. I try not to look in the mirror at myself, but our bathrooms are all mirrors. It's a sad thing I see looking back at me. I wish I could laugh at myself, but I can't. I now look like the typical ‘cancer victim’--not a hair on my head. It looks terrible. I am nearly at the middle of my Chemotherapy, and I am wondering......Is it doing what it is supposed to be doing....killing any stray cancer cells if they are there? It’s a frightening thought. I try and stay positive.
I am getting weary of well meaning people telling me how well I look and how brave I am. I do look well because I wear a wig and no-one sees the cancer patient that I see in the mirror each day. I am NOT brave at all---I have NO choice but to go through with this treatment. I put on the act that I feel great and all is well with the world, but in truth, I have reached a low point and feel sad and miserable.
I try to carry on with my life as normally as I can. I am still doing the coffee rounds with friends, and I go to my badminton club on a Monday evening and a Wednesday lunch time. Seeing all my friends lifts my spirits enormously. They are my biggest asset. I don’t know what I would have done without them. I will never be able to thank them enough.
Today is a beautiful day, and I’m hoping that Colin will want a walk in the sunshine. I need some exercise, and walking is the only thing I can do at the moment. Under my arm is still numb from the operation. The nerves are healing very slowly, so I have no feeling from under my armpit to just above my elbow.
Treatment number three is on 30th July....Roll on 30th July.

FRIDAY 3rd JULY

2009-07-03T01:28:00.000-07:00

Friday 3rd July

I am feeling really well. Since seeing the Oncologist last Thursday, I have continued to improve each day. I am feeling so well, there is a distinct danger that I will forget to take my medication, which protects my body from infections. I was warned to stay clear of enclosed places, (cinemas, supermarkets, shopping centres etc,) from days 6-11. At this time, the immune system is at rock bottom, so it would be very easy to pick up coughs and colds, or worse! Not wanting to delay any treatment, I do as I am told. I still see my friends, usually for coffee at our local coffee shop. If they have colds, they don’t come. Everyone is incredibly thoughtful.

Last Sunday was Joelle’s birthday, so Colin and I drove up the Hume Highway to Longwood to visit them. We arrived at their house at 12.30, and hopped into Andrew’s car. He told us we were going out for lunch—50ks up the road to a place called Yarck. Yarck---population---very few!!! But, there was a pub and a restaurant. We enjoyed a beautiful meal and a bottle of red at the quaint weatherboard restaurant. It never seizes to amaze me that you can eat a high class meal in the middle of nowhere, easily as classy as any meal in a city restaurant.
We bought Joelle a slow cooker for her birthday and the first meal she cooked in it, was a piece of silverside. We ate it on Sunday night. It was cooked to perfection, of course. It was delicious. I brought up a Mud cake and covered it with candles. It heated the room and it took Joelle two blows to blow all the candles out. How many candles!!!!!Lots!!!

My traumatic day was on Monday 29th June. I had an appointment with Terry, my hairdresser. I asked him to shave my head. It was very emotional, but I had done most of my crying at home. It was only when he said how brave I was, that he had to give me a tissue. I am not brave, but I am practical. I have no choice in this situation. I didn’t want to see my hair falling out in clumps and leaving bald patches. So until all my hair goes, probably within a week, I have a number one hair cut!!! It is not a pretty sight, but a sight both Colin and I will have to get used to. I took my wig along, and Terry trimmed it, and when I wear it, (nearly all the time) it is hard to tell that it’s not my hair---Well, that’s what everyone tells me. But I must say, it is a good likeness to me, it’s just not as fine as my hair.
Colin and I go out for lunch a couple of times a week, often to Helen’s cafe in Black Rock. We’ve got to know Dominic, her old boss, and he always stops and has a chat with us. Mind you, he chats to most people!
This Saturday, the Victorian Racing Club has invited us into the Committee Room for the day. The timing couldn’t be better as it is only 5 days to my 2nd treatment, so my immune system should be fully functional. It's a sumptuous affair when everyone dresses as if for royalty. We mix with the committee and dinner and afternoon tea are provided. The food is always magnificent. It is about 10 years since we were last invited so it will be another 10 years before we get another invitation. I will be wearing a wig on Saturday, but hopefully, nobody will even notice!

Next week is a busy week. I’ll drive over to badminton on Monday night as usual, to see the girls. On Tuesday, I have my coffee morning with a few friends, and in the evening, Colin and I are going into the city to see Richard Gill, (conductor) and listen to the Australian Orchestra playing popular classical music. On Wednesday, after my coffee afternoon with more of my friends, it’s ‘Girls Night Out’ with my badminton buddies. I can’t wait.

Then it will be Thursday and time for treatment no.2.......

THURSDAY 25TH JUNE

2009-06-25T03:08:00.001-07:00

My first treatment of Chemotherapy was injected intravenously a week ago, on Thursday 18Th June. I sat in a very comfortable business class seat (wish it had been on a Qantas flight!!) for 2 hours and chatted light heartedly to a couple of women going down a similar path to mine. Stella was in her 70's, while Sue was only 42. The ambiance in the oncology ward was amazingly happy and bright. The nurses chat and banter and help create a good atmosphere. It was pre-arranged that all three of us stay in hospital overnight. This way the nurses can continue monitoring any effects the treatment is having on us. A second advantage of staying overnight, is the wonderful concoction of anti nausea drugs and fluids which is given through the drip. I will accept anything to help! Friday morning at 10.00am, Colin was there to pick me up and take me home. Certainly my fears of feeling unwell for the duration of the treatment were unfounded. I think I'm one of the lucky ones. For many, it is a nightmare. In fact, the first weekend I felt really good.

No doubt this was helped by the fact that Andrew and Joelle came and stayed with us. We had a lovely quiet weekend together. The sales lured us all out to the shops on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. Joelle bought a suitcase, and I bought a new anorak, which I now wear constantly when I venture out, -----and that's very regularly!!! I have tablets to take- not too many-and they seem to keep my body as normal as it can possibly be. There is no doubt that treatment is taking effect. I am weary more quickly, and bedtime comes much earlier than I'm normally used to. I have occasionally felt a little off colour, but if I do, I go out for a short walk and take in some fresh air. It does wonders. I see the Oncologist later today. I assume he wants to know how the process has affected me. I am hoping the next fortnight will be recovery time, to prepare me for treatment Number 2 on July 9Th.

Today I would have been in London, seeing my friend Joan, for the first time in 49 years, and tomorrow I had tickets to centre court at Wimbledon and I was going to take her. With Nadal out of the tournament, I would have been able to see Federer. It's a cruel world sometimes!!!

As a postscript for today, I saw my oncologist this afternoon, and he was extremely pleased that all had gone well for me. He tells me that the worst treatment is over, although I think the next two will follow a similar pattern to the first. I am not unhappy--it could have been much worse!

Next on the agenda-----loss of hair. I am going to see my hairdresser on Monday, and have my scalp shaved. It will be upsetting, but I can't bear the thought of watching my hair fall out in chunks. The wig is ready!

WEDNESDAY 10th JUNE

2009-06-10T04:13:00.000-07:00

Today I had my final medical examination at Cabrini Hospital, Malvern. I was injected with nuclear medicine to check that my heart is strong enough to pump the chemical poisons they will start putting into me next week. So now, after mammograms, ultra sounds, core biopsies, a bone scan, a CT scan, two lots of surgery and today’s Nuclear heart test, all is in readiness.

Tonight, Colin and I are going to the cinema to see 'Sampson and Delilah'. On Friday, some of my friends are taking me out for a birthday lunch, and on Saturday, (my 64th birthday) we are going out for dinner with friends. I will eat and drink all things bad! And enjoy them!!!

Since finding out about my cancer I have had a few sad days, and I know there will be many more along the way, but I have never once thought-'why me'. I have always known there was a strong chance this could happen. My sad days are the result of thoughts of the months ahead; of feeling ill and having no control over it. I fear that I will be poor at coping. I suppose I have had passing thoughts of the vulnerability of my life, but not much. My surgeon has told me that I will recover. I don't doubt him.

Colin will help carry me through this ordeal. My friends are my biggest asset. I know they are giving me huge support and I am confident that I can lean on them if I need to. I could not survive without them. My family, not only our children, but my family overseas, are the ones whose thoughts are with me. Life will go on, and I am hoping that I can carry on with my regular routine as much as possible, and that by Christmas, there will be light at the end of the tunnel and normality will return into my life.

Sixty Fourth Summer ----NOT

2009-06-08T02:35:00.000-07:00

Monday 8th June 2009

This is not the blog I wanted to write. It will be my diary of events over the coming months.

Sadly, there is no trip to England. On the 20th May, the day before my departure to England, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It is a shock, although, one that I have waited for many years to appear. My mother had a mastectomy when she was 80 years old though I am happy to report that she died of old age when she was 93 years old! Not so fortunate was her mother and Auntie. They both died of breast cancer when they were in their 40's. I am a Stage 2+ /Grade 3. That means the cancer has moved from my breast into my lymph nodes. Not good. I am told that Chemotherapy and Radiotherapy are automatic at that stage.

I have always taken good care of myself. I am fit and healthy. I have never smoked, apart from experimenting as a teenager, and I drink very little. The food I eat is always fresh-- lots of fruit and vegetables. I have been having mammograms every year since I was about 45 years old because of my risk factor. I had a Pap Smear in March this year, and all was OK. How could this possibly happen?

On the 14th May, I reached up for something, and felt a tightness under my arm. I discovered a lump about the size of a cherry. I was recovering from a virus and decided it must be a swollen gland. Colin and I were going away for the weekend on our annual jaunt with the Mentone Veterans Cricket Club. We returned on the Monday and the lump was still there. I made an appointment with my Doctor. She, in turn, rang my breast specialist, who I had been seeing every year since I was 45 years old. He called me in immediately. Pete sent me over to the Hospital to have a mammogram, an ultra sound and Core Biopsy. It was only when the ultra sound showed up a lump in the breast that I decided things may not be quite right. From seeing Marnie at 2pm, Pete at 2.45pm, to getting home after my trip to the hospital, took 3 hours. I am grateful they were so very efficient.

Pete called me to his office on Wednesday 20th to give me the result and tell me what was going to happen. He booked me in for surgery the following Wednesday, 27th May. He would do a lumpectomy on my breast, and remove the lymph nodes under my arm. What an amazing man he is. Not only is he a great surgeon, he is so gentle and he makes you feel as if you are the only person he is dealing with. Yet he had informed 3 other women that week that they had breast cancer.

The surgery was easy. The anesthetist gave me a wonderful cocktail so I wouldn't feel nauseous after the operation, and I was eating dinner two hours after recovery. I came home on the Saturday, only to be told that I had to go in again for a re-excision on the following Tuesday. Pete needed to take a little more of my breast tissue. The Cancer is now gone. Unfortunately, a grade 3 means there may be a cell lurking. So...the next step---the one I am NOT looking forward to, is the Chemotherapy. My first dose of six treatments, is on 18th June.

YOUR TIME STARTS NOW

2009-05-12T20:58:00.000-07:00

I know there are readers in the world, as well as many other good people who are no readers at all, --- who find themselves ill at ease, unless they are let into the whole secret from first to last, of everything which concerns ones' adventures.
It is pure compliance with this humour of theirs, and from a backwardness in my nature to disappoint any one soul living, that I have been so particular already in setting up this blog. As my life and opinions are likely to have little import in the world, but if I conjecture right in judging the power of the internet could take in all ranks, professions and denominations of men and women whatever, and in its time be no less read than the Pilgrims Progress itself ; I find it necessary to consult everyone a little in his turn; and therefore must beg pardon for going on a little further in this same way: For which cause, right glad I am that I have begun this record of our 2009 trip to Europe in the way I have done; and that I am able to go on tracing every happenchance including even the minute and trivial. Sixth form English does not recommend this fashion altogether, but that tuition more generally refers to an epic poem or tragedy, ---for in writing what I have set about, I shall confine myself neither to their rules, nor to any man’s rules that has ever lived.
It is also important for the reader of this rhapsodical blog to know that the more sensible and more lucid accounts will be scripted by the wife of this gentleman traveller; and who, having received the benefits of six form English at the feet of her renowned father; will give account to the travels and adventures with much more precision and grammatical purity.

A first contribution could well include the pleasures of arriving at Heathrow at 1330 Friday 22nd May in the Year of our Lord; that is if Kerry's transport shown in the above photograph manages to reach Tullamarine Airport!