Happy Boob Day To Me

Yesterday was officially the first day of summer. Apart from that the date passed insignificantly. I wasn't until I got home from work that I got a text from my friend in Nelson. If you have been reading my blog from Day 1, you will remember that I struck up a friendship through the Trade Me message board with a lovely lady called Brenda who was diagnosed the same day. Well, she text me to remind me that it was a year ago that we had our mastectomies. Gosh I hadn't even given it a thought. How ironic is that though, that yesterday I posted off my wig to a lady in Auckland, who bought my wig from me off of Trade Me.

So we have come full circle and are back to where we started a year ago, minus the cancer, but with a new lease on life!

Everybody Has A Story To Tell

Last Saturday I went to the hairdressers to have a colour put through my hair to cover the 'ahem' grey ones.

My usual hairdresser put the colour through and when it was ready to be rinsed off, a pretty young hairdresser, probably in her early twenties, took me over to the basin and rinsed out the colour. She asked me if I was having it cut and I said no, as there isn't much to cut off as I am waiting for it to grow back after losing it all.

I sat down in front of the mirror and she asked me when I had finished treatment. I told her that I had finished about 8 weeks ago. She then went on to say that she knew exactly what I was going through as she had been through it with her mother. I asked her if her mothers cancer was breast and she said yes it was. She then added that she had died in March of this year after battling it was 12 years. I felt kind of guilty for sitting there having beaten this horrible thing. She went on chatting about her mum and what a strong woman she had been and that she was so well and then she just lapsed into a coma one day and was gone. When she had finished we went up to the counter to pay and I said that it was probably going to be very hard this first Christmas without her mum and she said yes, especially for her dad. I had tears in my eyes for this poor family who had been through so much. When she saw that I was upset for them she then came around to my side of the counter and she gave me a big hug. I went out to my car and just sat and cried. I cried for the young girl who would need her mum throughout her life but wouldn't have her here to share Christmases,her engagement and wedding, the birth of her children and because I have daughters roughly around the same age, this could so easily have been the outcome for them.

So, yes, everyone has their own story that we are not even aware of; a workmate, a friend of a friend, it may be the lady who runs the local shop, someone you end up sitting next to on a bus - the connection and unspoken understanding is instant.

The next day I had agreed to meet up at a cafe in Wellington with a lady who was doing a study through university. She wanted to talk to me about my experience especially the services and care that I had received during my illness. Her last question asked me if I wanted to add anything else about my experience. I started to tell her about the unity amongst patients, family and friends of breast cancer patients. I started to tell her about the lovely girl at the hairdressers and the next thing I knew I was sobbing my heart out again....I didn't realise it had affected me so deeply. I looked up after trying to wipe my tears away (in a very public place) and noticed my survey lady was also wiping her eyes.

As I am relaying all this to you, I can feel a lump in my throat and my tears start to well up again. This is a cruel, horrible illness that robs the life of mothers, grandmothers, daughters,sisters, aunties,neices and friends alike. Let's hope they find a cure soon.

Thyroid Update

Last Thursday I had an appointment with my new elected surgeon to discuss what we are going to do about the growth in my thyroid.

After looking at the CT scans of my neck and discussions with the pathologist who did the Fine Needle Aspiration on the 'lump', they are not entirely sure that the growth is in fact cancerous. The main concern the surgeon has for me, is that I have had three surgical proceedures in the last 12 months and he doesn't want to do a forth operation if I don't really need to have it. In his own words he explained that in USA there has been a high increase of people thought to have thyroid cancer. They have had their 'thyroids' ripped out only to discover from tests post-surgery, that they didn't actually have thyroid cancer. There is a 10 mm calcification on my thyroid, there is no doubt about it but it has been there for at least 15 months to my knowledge. If it is malignant, it is not life threatening and has not spread anywhere else. Another reason is that if they take out the thyroid, then I will have to be on thyroid meds for the rest of my life. If the para-thyroids (little glands behind the thyroid)also get taken in the surgery, then I will have to be on calcium for life as well. I'm not too keen on taking any meds at this stage as I will be taking tamoxifen (to prohibit the growth of breast cancer) for the next five years. He said that I am a difficult case (I could have told him that) and he is going to meet with the medical board to get their opinion on what we should do. One option is to monitor it regularly and if it starts to grow, then perhaps look at surgey then. There is no need to rush into anything so I don't see him now for three months which I am pleased about.

As promised, here is my new nipple tatto. I'm not entirely pleased with it as it is a bit on the orange side and slightly too big but I guess it looks ok from a distance. Probably not going to be doing too much nude sunbathing in the future anyhow. They wait until the body is warm and they take the measurement from the areola. I can't see the sense in that logic really because if you've got your clothes off, nine times out of ten you are going to be cold, so therefore they should have taken the measurement whilst the body temperature was lower, if you get my drift.

The Artwork Is Almost Done

On the 27th October I had the last part of my 'cosmetic' proceedures done on my new breast. I had the aerola tattoed on.
The new breast is numb but David Glasson injected the area with anaesthetic just to be sure. The nurse then drew a circle around the nipple and then proceeded to put on the ink with a tattoing tool. She had previously matched up the correct colour ink with a sort of a mini-paint chart to get the right shade of 'skin'. I thought she could have at least offered me a luminous pink that glows in the dark. It would save me a lot of hassles when getting up to the loo in the wee small hours of the morning, I could see my way down the stairs a lot more safely.

I go back tomorrow to get the dressing off, so stay tuned for the grand unveiling.

I Don't Do Hats No More!!

On the 15th October my cousin Helen came to visit us for ten days. She is from England and had been planning a trip to Australia for quite some time. She and I last saw each other in 1977 when she was 4 and I was 14 and hadn't really kept in touch. Through the wonders of technology I managed to track her down about 18 months ago. She decided to cut her stay in Brisbane down and come and meet us all.

We took a wee holiday up to the tourist meca of ...yes...Rotorvegas
and had a great time. I was worried that I might become quite tired as I hadn't long finished chemotherapy, but I really outdid myself.
We went on an hour long horse trek in the hills at Paradise Valley and the next day we went out to the Agridome and we had a ride in a Jet Sprint boat. We also did all the tourist things like visiting the hidden valley, bathing at the Polynesian pools, visiting Huka Falls etc. We also did plenty of eating and drinking.

On the 2nd Saturday night of Helen's stay we decided we would go into Wellington for a meal and a bit of a boogie. i was not looking forward to spending the majority of the night wiping the perspiration from under my wig, nor did I want to wear a hat and look like a complete plonker so I decided I would go hatless. That's right No More Hats for me. So from the back of the bathroom shelf came the pot of hair gel and I gave myself a bit of a spiked up 'do' and off we went. It felt great to be out without my extra accessory. I have now put my hats away and have put my wig on Trade Me. I won't be needing it anymore!

We had a great night out, starting off with a beautiful meal which my Aunty had generously paid for for us all. We then had a few drinks and went on to Boogie Wonderland where I could quite happily have danced the night way.

During the last couple of days I have noticed that the few long eyelashes that I have managed to retain have now fallen out and my eyelids are now naked. On inspecting said area more closely I now know that the old ones have fallen out for a reason.....they are being pushed out by the new spring growth. My lovely new eyelashes are coming through....I'm so excited; they are growing so fast I can literally see the difference each day.

The Finish Line

On the 11th October I had to go and once again have a CT scan. My oncologist wanted me to have one to make sure that I am all clear and the chemotherapy has done it's stuff and to have a baseline scan to have something to compare to if the need ever arises for me to have a CT again. I can now honestly say that I have seen most of my body from the inside out.

On the 14th October Darren and I went to my oncologist for my final checkup and to discuss where to from here. I was really nervous on the way to the appointment as I was afraid that they were going to give me bad news....but I needn't have worried. The first thing my doctor told me was that the CT scan had shown no signs of any tumours. I was jubilant and let out a loud 'wahoo'. It was over, the journey back to recovery was all but finished.

We discussed what was to happen next regarding the Tamoxifen medication which I will be taking for the next five years to hinder the production of eostrogen in my body, therefore making it difficult for more breast cancer to return. I will see the oncologist again late November to start on this but for now I need a holiday from all things medical.

Thinking Pink!

Gosh it has been nearly a month since I last posted. My life seems to have become incredibly busy over the last three weeks or so.

As you all probably are aware, October is Breast Cancer Awareness month worldwide. I would like to acknowledge my daughter Nicole for becoming a volunteer and collecting outside The Warehouse on Friday 8th October. She had her housewarming party to organise for that evening but still found the time to contribute to this worthy cause. I love you my darling and thank you.

As well as a financial contribution, I also purchased a Rachel Hunter designed T-shirt with proceeds going to NZBCF. The slogan on the front aptly describes my feelings. Tough Girls Wear Pink - they certainly do!

Making Good Out Of Bad

Tuesday afternoon I arrived home with my brand new overlocker that had arrived that day. I put it on the table and then proceeded to tell Darren all about my day. He kept asking me when was I going to open my overlocker. I said I would have a look after dinner. After dinner came and I still hadn't opened it. I said to Darren that I was feeling a bit dispondent as I hadn't sold many beanies and thought that buying the overlocker was probably going to be a big fat waste of time and money.

With that, my cellphone beeped. It was a message from a lady wanting to buy two beanies as soon as possible. I rang her back and took her details. She said that she has looked all over the place for bright, cheerful beanies and found some of mine on Trademe and had had a look at my website and loved what she saw.

I got her order together and then I received another text from her to thank me for making what was otherwise a shitty day, into a happy one.

Another text followed. It said that her sister has a new baby and has leukemia. That day she had cut off her sisters long hair and how sad she felt watching her sister suffer through all this. She wanted me to know how excited they both were at finding my website and can't wait for her beanies to arrive. This humbled me and bought me to tears. I cried for the fact that this poor woman has to go through this illness; that she has a new baby to take care of and can't enjoy all the beauty that a new baby should bring because she is so ill herself. I cried because of the obvious love that this lady has for her sister and wanting to be there for her. I also cried because there are others who have such a long, hard road and have it far worse than I did. With that, I ripped open my overlocker. Together we will sew beautiful beanies for beautiful ladies and put a little happiness into day.

Visit To The Thyroid Surgeon

Last Tuesday I had an appointment with the surgeon to discuss when I would be having my operation. We decided that I would book it for late October, early November. He ran through the basics regarding the surgery and then gave me his business card so that I could get in touch with his surgery to book a definite date.

The next day I looked in my bag for the card but could not find it. I looked in my tote bag, it wasn't there either. I looked in the car incase I had left in there but it wasn't anywhere to be found. A couple of hours later I went back and looked in all these places again but still could not find his card. The following day, at work, I decided that I would 'google' his surgery and find his telephone number. Well, what I found was not what I was expecting. A search pulled up articles on this surgeon which were about how one of his patients had died whilst in his care. He had perforated her bowel and was found by the Medical Council, to have shown negligence in looking after her at Wakefield Hospital. The patient was admitted to Wellington Hospital and died five days after her surgery. The surgeon has since been prohibited from working at Wakefield Hospital. Cripes!!! So needless to say, I did not ring his surgery and book a date...in fact I will be finding another surgeon. I have not come all this way through breast cancer to die on the operating table having my thyroid taken out.

The strangest thing was, when I got home that evening, here was his business card, in my tote bag, where I had looked for it twice before. If that is not divine intervention.....then tell me what is!

Where To From Hair

Thursday 23rd September was officially my last day of chemotherapy. It was a strange feeling that I would not be coming back and I know I am going to miss some of the people that I have met whilst having my treatment.

In the morning before my chemo appointment, I had an appointment with a specialist at the Womens clinic with regards to my fibroids. He doctor said that he was most unimpressed by my fibroids and didn't actually know why I had been sent there. He decided to see me again in March when I would have an ultrasound to see if the fibroids had grown at all. As long as they aren't giving me any trouble, then he was quite happy to leave well alone. In other words, if it ain't broken, don't fix it.

I then went on to chemo ward. I gave Margaret, my Cancer Society Volunteer angel a bunch of flowers to thank her for all that she had done for me. There were a lot of women that I had met over the six months that wanted to see me before I left, so it was a very busy afternoon.

If you remember a few posts back I had made some premature baby beanies. Well my contact came to see me whilst I was having chemo and told me that the hospital shop had decided to sell these cut little hats on my behalf, so I pretty pleased about that.

So I walked out of the oncology ward feeling somewhat of a free woman, although I know I am sure I will go back and visit from time to time. I went home and cooked tea and opened a bottle of bubbly to celebrate.

Also if you remember back as far as six months when I blogged about the orcas and how they inspired me to face six months of chemotherapy. Well I have added a new charm to my Pandora bracelet to commemorate. I couldn't find an actual orca but I think this little whale is close enough. At least I know what it means. The little angel next to it is the charm that my daughters gave me for Xmas last year. It was this little angel that was to look after me whilst I recovered. I think she did her job extremely well, don't you think!


I have pretty much ditched my wig now as my hair is sprouting like new spring growth. I think I mentioned a few blogs back that I had bought myself a new hat. Well here it is.


So now I have lots of things to look forward to.
1. Shedding the 5kgs that I put on whilst having chemo
2. The growth of JBeanies
3. My cousin Helen arriving from the UK on 15th October for eight days
4. Holiday up north with my husband and cousin, doing all the touristy things
5. My hair growing back; and it's off to a great start.

You've Got To Have a Nipple Or Two!

Well it's been a little while since my last post. I seem to have been extremely busy getting on with lots of things so I intend to post about three different things this weekend.

Firstly, my very long overdue post about my new nipple.
At the end of August my daughter and myself went to my plastic surgeon's rooms at Bowen Hospital to have my old/new nipple grafted on. It was really quite funny as my surgeon held up the lid from a vivid marker and held it against my new breast and asked me if it looked in about the right place. After he had decided where it should go he injected my right boobie with two lots of anaesthetic. Boy did that make my eyes water. He also numbed the new breast.

He then set about cutting off the top of my nipple....this I could not watch as he started slicing with the scalpel. Once he had cut it off, he put it down on the trolley next to me.

What a strange sensation, seeing part of your body detached and laying there. The strangest thing was that once it was cut off and the blood drained from it, it went a normal skin colour.
He then stitched up what was left of the old nipple. Then he cut a hole in my new breast for the new nipple to sit on. The hole was cut so that the blood vessels could attach themselves to the new appendage. Then with a tiny, half circle needle, he delicately stitched it on to it's new home. Now after a month it is completely healed and is the correct colour. And no, I don't have any feeling in it but my new boobie looks a bit more normal with it's cherry on top. I go back on the 28th of October to get the final stage done which is the tattoo of the areola.

A Few Things To Think About

I had trouble coming up with a title for this post but then when I thought back over the last couple of weeks this title caps it all off nicely.

Over the last month I have been doing quite a lot of brainstorming and networking to get JBeanies out there. I have brochures in various clinics around the lower north island and a couple of Cancer Societies are coming on board and putting the word out there about my product. One branch has ordered a dozen straight off; so I am really pleased about that. One lady who bought a beanie a few weeks back, suggested to me that I should make gardening sleeves (which she had seen on Good Morning whilst she was waiting in reception at chemo). She thought that they would be ideal for women like ourselves who have had lymph nodes removed through surgery and have to go to great lengths to protect the limb from cuts, scratches, insect bites and sunburn whilst working outside. So I have taken that on board and have made some of these and intend selling them though my JBeanies website, once I have photographed them. Of course once I decided to make them I had to think up a name for them and came up with Green Sleeves! Pretty cool eh!

I am done with my wig. I don't wear it if I can help it. I even treated myself to a nice new hat last week. My hair is getting thicker (not thick enough to go without a hat though) and my eyelashes are growing back.

Well, last week's chemo was number 11. This last regime has gone really fast for me, although I will be releived when it is finished with. I am starting to get really tired now as the district nurse predicted I would. My bones ache (which is another side effect) but then that could be old age creeping in, not just the chemo. I suppose after having chemo for the last six months, it is starting to take its toll. The travelling in and out to Wellington once a week is also quite tiring; well not so much the chemo itself, but the looking round the shops afterwards. Monday and Tuesday nights I am tucked up in bed by 7.30.

As I sat having my infusion last week I looked around at the other people there, all for the same reason. In this room it doesn't matter if you are young or old, black or white, rich or poor, highly successful or unemployed, male or female. Cancer does not discriminate! It can effect anybody. And you know what? We all probably thought that Cancer is what happens to somebody else. And here we all are....the somebody elses. Then I see and talk to people who have it real bad but you would never know by their great attitudes and positive spirit. I look at other people who look really sick and hope beyond hope that my monster has gone. Never to return. When I walk out of the clinic after my last infusion next week, I hope I never have to go back for chemo ever!

Moving On Up

As most of you know, my daughter Nicole and her partner Brad moved back home early this year to help out whilst I recovered. Yesterday they moved out into their lovely new flat at Paraparaumu Beach. For me this signifies one thing. I am through the storm. For the past nine months I feel like I have been living in a vortex that has resolved around nothing nothing but cancer, cancer, cancer. Tossing us all around to face the unknown. Things seeming to spin out of our control whilst other peoples lives just carried on the same. And now after such a ride I feel like I am coming in to land. I feel like I have been on some strange holiday but not really remembering it but at the same time feeling like my old self again. In a strange way it feels like I am emerging as somebody new. I still have three shots of chemo left and my thyroid operation but I know that the race is nearly won. A whole year has gone by.....but where??? There is really not a lot of good stuff that has happened in the past 12 months; not many photographs have been taken for me to scrapbook. In a strange kind of way I will miss the little network of medics that I have got to know well. I told the nurses at oncology that I will have to find somewhere else to go on a Thursday when my chemo is over. I have met some wonderful people there; the nurses, the volunteers and other patients.

I seem to have become a bit of a celebrity at the Blood and Cancer Centre, it appears. I was sitting in the waiting room last Thursday, minding my own business, when the Cancer Society volunteer rushed up to me and said that she had been looking for me everywhere. She said that she had ladies having chemo who were asking whether I was here today with my beanies. The volunteer asked me if I had them with me, to which I replied, yes. She then said for me to hand the bag over to her so that she could take them down to the ladies to look at. She hardly gave me time to remove my lunch out of the bag before she took off down to the chemo ward.

Thanks to this lovely volunteer I now am allowed to display a mannequin sporting one of my beanies in the actual chemotherapy rooms. This wonderful volunteer promotes them to almost everyone that comes in for chemo. She is an angel.

But getting back to Thursday.....every time I sat down in my laz-y-boy she would come around and ask me to go and meet this lady and that lady who all wanted to meet me and buy my beanies. It's getting a bit out of control. Now I have been asked if I would like to make miniature beanies for premature babies at the neo-natal ward. I didn't know where to start with the sizing but according to the internet, using an orange for measurements is pretty close. Look at these cuties.

Half Way There

I had my sixth lot of paclitaxel yesterday....goodness me, the time is flying with this. Everything is going really well with it and have no side effects. The chemo nurses call me a little star because of this. The only problem occuring is that by this stage in the treatment, the veins in my hand know what is coming every week and are starting to shrink away from the needle. On the fifth session, the veins were not behaving and I had to have one inserted closer up the hand by the wrist bone.....boy did that make my eyes water. This time they tried another one but with no success so they had to go in by the wrist again. If these naughty veins don't get their act together I will have to have a PIC line put in which is a long tube down the vein of my arm which is ultrasound guided. This will have to stay in place until my treatment is finished. Another method is to have a port-a-cath inserted in my chest which is put in under general anaesthetic, hhhhmmm not to keen on being put out again, so we will just have to see how it goes.

Other than that, life has been quite busy. I have been making beanies flat out and getting in touch with different agencies who may like to help me market them. For the link to my website, click on the JBeanies tab at the top of the page.

I had my new nipple created a few weeks ago. Once my dressings are off I will be posting about that and putting up photos for those that are interested.

So I am now half way through the paclitaxel and have half a new nipple. Good things certainly do take time.

Up And At 'Em

Well, time is flying.  I have been so busy lately that I haven't got around to posting.
I had my 3rd round of Paclitaxel last week.  I didn't have any reaction the two previous times so I was allowed out of the ward and into a laz-y-boy this time.  I also only had to have half of the antihistamine.  So I am now over a quarter of the way through.  I have had relatively little side effects, just a little tired, but what's new!  I feel almost 100% again and am back cooking meals, getting groceries and doing a little bit of exercise.

You regular bloggers may remember a few posts back that I was busy making chemotherapy beanies.  Well I have gone one step further with this concept and have gone into mass production, if you will.

I told the wonderful Cancer Society volunteer at Oncology that I would like to start making them for other wearers and she has helped me immensley in getting this off the ground.  So far she has given me email addresses of four women who may be interested.  Over the weekend my lounge became a sewing factory and by 6pm Sunday evening I had cut out and sewn 17 beanies, all in beautiful bright colours.   I have also put together my own little business card and am in the process of completing a flyer.  My darling husband has built me a website and if you click on the J'Beanies tab at the top of the page, it will take you to the link.

These beautiful beanies will also be available through this blog at $12.50 each.
I have gone with a jelly bean theme because of:-
1.  The bright colours that I will be using are similar to jelly bean colours
2.  The play on the word beanies and beans
3.  The 'J' obviously being my initial.

I have also approached our local Cancer Society and they are interested in perhaps displaying them for me.

So out of a bad situation, perhaps a new venture will be born. Wish me luck!!

Things I Didn't Know

Having a breast cancer diagnosis has really opened my eyes to things that I didn't know before.  Apart from all the medical jargon and tests, I didn't know that there are hundreds of other people trying to live as normal life as they can whilst travelling the long road to recovery.  People trying to carry on raising families, being wife and mother, chief cook and bottlewasher. People trying to carry on with their jobs without letting their treatment reflect in their work. Nor did I realise the financial strain that having a serious illness can sometimes cause people. When I used to think of people who have serious illnesses I had no idea of the impact it has over your entire life; your family, your job, your finances, your relationship with people. It encompasses every aspect of your life. And there are the people trying to come to terms with what has happened to them. Sometimes not realizing what they have been through until they have a break from all things medical and have time after the business of the last months; to absorb what has actually happened.  This happened to me a week or so ago.

Up until now I had been strong and positive; more so than what I thought I was capable of.  So much so, that I even offered support to people just starting out on this terrifying journey.  I suppose it had to happen though, eventually....I crashed. I actually realised the seriousness of it all and it scared the bjesus out of me.  I didn't like feeling sad, I didn't like feeling negative - this was not going to get me through. Every magazine I picked up had an article about cancer, every conversation people were having seemed to be about people who were terminally ill and had no hope for a recovery.  Even movies watched to cheer me up had some reference to cancer.  Unbeleivable.  This could not carry on; so I decided I would not read any more magazines for a while, I would not engage in any morbid conversations and I would have a darn good chat to my oncologist, which I did last Thursday. All it took from him were a few encouraging words and some reassurance and I am pleased to say I am back on top of things.

I had my first dose of Paclitaxel last Thursday.  Because there is a slight risk of  allergic reactions to this drug (which is made from extracts from the Yew tree), I had to lay down whilst having the drug administered.  I was given a light concoction of anti-nausea meds and two different anti-histamines incase I did infact suffer a reaction.  The administration of this drug was far quicker than the previous lot and only took a little over 2 1/2 hours even though they fed it in at a slower than usual rate.  After the second dose tomorrow, if I still don't react, they will speed up the pump so that it will cut the time down even more.

After I had finished, I felt really good, so Darren and I spent the afternoon doing a bit of retail therapy and shopping for groceries. By evening I expected to feel at least a little tired but it didn't happen.  The next day I got up and went to work as normal.  No sickness or queasiness at all.  I felt so good by the weekend that I stopped taking my anti-nauseas on Saturday morning and haven't looked back since.  Apart from feeling a little tired, which is to be expected, this is so far, a piece of cake.  May it continue for the next 11 weeks.

And there are a few other things that I didn't know.

I didn't know that a very old friend that I have known since I was 17, prays for me every morning.
I also didn't know that an aunty of my daughters (from their father's family) also remembers me and my family in her prayers.
I didn't know that my daughter's friends and work mates also care enough to ask her how I am.
I didn't know that our next door neighbours thought about me whilst they were in USA for three weeks; so much so that they bought us back tee-shirts from their trip to thank us for collecting their junk mail.
I didn't know that long, lost relatives in the UK love and care about me so much despite having lost contact for decades.
Breast cancer is a horrible thing but some wonderful realisations have come out of going through this so I have a lot to be thankful for.

It Never Rains....

Yep, you know how the rest of the saying goes.

I haven't actually blogged about the following topic before because I didn't really think it had any relevance but back in September of last year after we had just moved house, and before I knew I had breast cancer, I found a lump on my neck.
In the front and just off to the left.  Of course I Dr Googled and ruled out throat cancer. I took myself off to my GP and he ordered an ultrasound of my throat.  Three weeks later and a lot of worrying, the test results advised that it was a multi-nodule goitre of the thyroid.  My GP said he would refer me on to a specialist who would do further tests to see if it was cancerous or not.  Again I went on the internet and found out about thyroid cancer.  Apparently if you are going to get cancer, this is the one to get because it is 97% curable and is hardly ever terminal.   Seven months, yep, SEVEN MONTHS later I get an appointment with the specialist at Kenepuru Hospital.  He wanted me to go and have a needle biopsy of the area at Wellington Hospital. By this time I had had all my BC operations and had started chemotherapy.  Roughly three weeks later I went and had this really painful proceedure done.  They stuck a needle into my throat three times (without anaesthetic) and drew off samples which would then be sent away. I would be told my results in early July when I went back to Kenepuru Hospital.

So then, moving on in time, the day for my fourth and final round of AC chemotherapy rolled round.  As always before I see the nurse for the proceedure, I have to meet with my oncologogist and he does a quick physical, writes out a prescription for any meds and off I go for four hours.  After the oncologist had examined me, he told me everything looked fine, but then he disappeared out of the room for seemed like ages.  Nicole, her partner Brad, and Kelsey were in the room with me and I said to them that I felt something was wrong as he had been gone awhile.  When he came back he informed me that he had had a look at the results of my thryroid biopsy and was sorry to have to tell me but the cells they found were cancerous. So, what should have been a good day for the last of my rougher chemo, turned out in fact to be a rough day. Nicole asked if it was in any way related to the BC, and he said no, it was an entirely different strain. He informed me that I would have to have my thyroid removed (which I sort of already gathered).  Great, another operation!!!! I then had to be seen by an Ear Nose and Throat specialist who turned up with two registrars.  They all had a feel of my throat and then the specialist sprayed a liquid up my nose which would run down and numb my throat.  She then stuck a long thin tube which had a small camera on the end of it, up my nostril and down the back of my throat.  What a weird sensation that was!  The reason for this was to see if the cancer had spread to the throat.  She said it looked fine and then went on to say that they would like to operate in three weeks; which would have coincided with my first lot of Paclitaxol chemotherapy.  I would also need to have a CT scan on the area to see if they were going to do a small thyroid op or a full neck one.  She also informed me that there would be a slight risk in disturbing the vocal chords but if that happens they will go back in and fix it. Great, the last thing I want to sound like is Micky Mouse!    I was actually in a bit of shock as the thought of going into Wellington public hospital was enough to put the willies up me for a start. We all know how I feel about that place. It was quite unbelievable and all so rushed. Here I was thinking I was cancer free and there is another little blighter rearing it's head.
So I went into the ward and sat down miserably to have my chemotherapy. I felt absolutely gutted. Just when I thought there was light at the end of the long, long tunnel, it appears that it was another train.

We rode home and I tried not to feel miserable as I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere.
I hadn't been home very long, when the telephone rang.  It was the oncologist from Wellington hospital. He told me he had put my case to the some sort of medical board who had just discussed my history.  He said they had decided to put off my surgery until I had completed all of my chemotherapy as they didn't feel there was any need to interupt anything.  I can't tell you how relieved I felt about that.  Doing two things at once would have done my head in think. 

It wasn't a good week at all for us because my darling favourite aunt in England, who I have just got into contact with again after about 20 years got called back on her routine mammogram.  She found out last week that she has early breast cancer,  a little under the size of a pea. She is booked in for a lumpectomy on the 15th July and then will have radiation afterwards.  I am thankful that she doesn't have to go through chemotherapy.  Ladies, that is how important it is to have your mammograms so that these things can be picked up early.  Because my aunty caught it early she will also get to keep her breast. If you think something is not right, keep questioning it until you have all the right answers.  Until next time.......

No Nude Nut For Me

Well, I am into the first week of my 3rd round of AC chemo now.  The effects seemed to come on quicker this time round but also subsided quicker.  I returned to work a day earlier too so it was good to feel motivated to get back into the swing of things.  Strangely though, my hair seems to be clinging on for dear life.   I have always had a really good head of hair and even the nastiness of chemotherapy drugs is not strong enough to make my locks vacate their premises.  True, it is very thin, somewhat like a baby's first growth and is about one and half  inches long  but it is hanging in there. I am pleased to report that I have still got my eyelashes and also a  pair of albeit thinner eyebrows.  I only have one more lot of this harder chemo to go and then I will be having Paclitaxil once a week for 12 weeks.  According to other women who have had the same regime, it is a walk in the park as it is a much weaker dose and recovery time is quicker.

A couple of weeks ago I purchased some funky stretch fabric and set about making my own beanies.  There doesn't seem to be a supplier of the sort I was after anywhere else other than in the UK.  I also didn't fancy spending $40 + postage and packaging for one beanie.  I found a pattern on the internet and have so far made three. Once I have finished them I'll post some pics.  I thought that I might put my long dormant sewing skills to good use and see if there is a market for them and make some to sell; and not for $40 apiece.

On Wednesday morning I met with my plastic surgeon to review the next stage of reconstruction.....the icing on the cake......yup, the new nipple.  I was under the impression that my new nipple was going to be created by pulling some skin through a hole in the new breast, and folded over and stitched to create a fake one. The only problem with that method is that after a while, the skin flattens out and I will be left with uneven sized nipples....we can't be having that, can we!!!  So, what is actually going to be done is that the surgeon is going to slice the tip of my existing nipple in half (horizontally) and stitch the piece onto my reconstructed breast.  All this will be done under a local anaesthetic in the surgeons' rooms.  Amazing eh!! I just hope he sews it on straight.  I do not want one looking up and once looking down...that would be just too weird!  So, yeah, that is happening in August.  I will post pics of that for those that are interested.  Once that is all healed I just have to have my aerola tattooed on and Voila!! all done.

All The Beautiful Ladies

On Friday last week I attended the Look Good Feel Better workshop in Wellington. This is a free course held at the Cancer Society rooms for women undergoing treatment for cancer. It teaches about cleansing and looking after the complexion and shows how to apply makeup.  It is run by a wonderful lady called Leigh Renet who I'd already met. Leigh also works from her home in Northland supplying wigs and also creating handsewn hairpieces for women who require them.  On arriving at the Cancer Society rooms it was saddening to see so many women in the one place at this particular session that are affected by cancer of any sort. These sessions are run on a monthly basis.  The saddest thing was the arrival of a young girl, a 20 year old.  How cruel is life to affect somebody just starting out on hers. I have two daughters, 19 and 22 and this disease can inflict itself anyone.  This was somebody else's daughter going through this horrible thing. How terrible it must be for her parents to see their child going through this. I had the pleasure of being seated next to her whilst we were pampering. I didn't want to go into too much with her because it wasn't the occasion but she told me that she had a tumour in her shoulder and was having radiation treatment at present but wasn't sure what the next step was going to be for her after that.

Each two women had a lovely volunteer working with them both and we were all supplied with a kit, absolutely free. This kit contained, cleansers, moisturisers and a full make up kit in our colours.  We also got two added gifts of a wheatiebag for our shoulders and also a bottle of perfume each. (Click on photos to enlarge).

My kit

We were taken through each step, ie, make-up removal, cleansing, toning etc and were treated to a lovely facial massage by our volunteer.  Then we were shown how to apply each item of makeup right through from the foundation to the lipstick.  At the end of the session, there was a roomful of smiling, beautifully made-up ladies. It was a wonderful experience to participate in.

Before we started we were given the opportunity to purchase a raffle ticket. There were four draws; the major one being an overnight bag full of donated beauty products. We were able to choose our ticket numbers, so I took my age, Darren's age and my girls birth dates.  After the make-up session the raffles were drawn.  The first number was 47.....my age. I was so excited that I'd won something because I'd never so much as won a frozen chicken in a pub raffle before but I was even more excited by the fact that I had won the major prize.  The bag was jam packed with all sorts of goodies, from Channel, yes Channel face powder to Lancome mascara, from Christian Dior lipsticks to Dr Lewenns serums.  

My prize

This course was well worth going to and brightened my week.  The volunteers are truly amazing. They give up their time to attend these courses to help women like myself to look better and  feel confident while they are going through their treatment.

Chemo - Round Two

By the time the third week came around again for my next chemotherapy session, I was well over hospitals! the previous Thursday I had been to Kenepuru Hospital for an ultrasound for the fibroids and then on the Tuesday I had to go and have an ultrasound guided biopsy on some nodules on a goitre in my neck. I seemed to have spent the best part of a week attending medical appointments and was well sick of it all.

I was better organised this time, packing myself a box of goodies to eat whilst I was receiving my treatment. I was actually dreading entering the treatment area and just the thought of it made me feel sick but once I was there I felt ok. Well, at least I was until other women started talking to me and sharing their stories of woe and failed treatments.  The next thing I knew I was in tears, blubbering to the nurse, feeling as if all this was pointless. The lovely nurse pulled the curtain around me and sat and shared some encouraging words until I had stopped crying. Next time I come for treatment I'm not going to talk to anybody because everytime I do I go away with their baggage and sob stories which hammers at my positive attitude that I have so far been able to keep.

So, two down, two to go. Friday afternoon I started to feel the effects and spent Friday afternoon sleeping.
I'd had my anti-nausea meds changed this time, as the first round of meds had made me manic and unable to stay asleep.  This time I felt much better. Saturday was spent in bed all day sleeping but the effects of the chemo were nowhere near as bad as the first lot.  On Sunday I still felt really tired but didn't actually sleep and by Sunday afternoon was able to go down to the beach for a walk. By Sunday evening, I felt well enough to drive my daughter up to the train station. Monday and Tuesday were quite good days but I was still tired and a new side effect had set in.....I felt depressed.  I spoke to my oncology nurse who told me that the steroids that are given for the first 3 days can often affect you in that way and that it would pass. I'm sure also that not being at work and around people for 5 days was also causing me to lose motivation so by the time Wednesday came around I was really looking forward to going back to work. Once I got back into the routine of a normal day again, I started to come right.

Pink Tears And Other Weird Bodily Functions

I started my chemotherapy on Thursday 15th April.  We had to be at Wellington Hospital by 9.20 so it was another early start to beat the traffic. When we got to the city we went to the Cancer Society rooms first.  There we were given a pass to park free in the Cancer Society carpark whilst I was having my treatment.  We got to the Blood and Cancer Dept in good time and I thought that we would not have to wait very long as it was an early morning appointment. We were due to meet the oncologist at 9:30  and then onto the nurse for the actual chemotherapy at 10:00. We didn't actually get to see the oncologist until 10:30 so I was quite nervous with all the waiting around; I just wanted to get on with it. We met with the oncologist and he ran over a few things with us and then advised that the results of my MUGA scan had come back fine.  He also told me that some benign fybroids on my uterus had shown up on the CT scan. I think at that point, Darren, Nicole and my own heart skipped a beat for a second thinking the worst. They showed the results to the Gyno people and they said that the fibroids were not very impressive so therefore nothing to worry about but I will have to go and have an ultrasound at some stage.

After that we were taken down to the treatment room which had six Laz-y-boy chairs in. I was introduced to my oncology nurse Anne. First thing I had to do was sit with a wheat pack on my arm for about 20 minutes to ensure that the arm was warm and that the vein would be easy to get at. When that was done, a needle was inserted into the vein in the top of my hand and a saline drip was set up.  Once that was well underway I was given a concoction of anti-nausea drugs. At this point I thought I would read a bit of my book but the anti-nausea drugs seemed to fuddle my brain a wee bit so I gave up on that idea.

The first drug they administered was the Adriamycin which the nurse injected from a syringe.  The funniest thing about having this go through your system is that your urine comes out pink and apparently if you cry, your tears are pink also.

Whilst I was waiting for the next dose, a lovely lady from the Cancer Society came around and gave everyone a lunch pack which was awesome as I was getting really hungry by this time.

I was then hooked up to a machine where the second drug, Cytoxan was going to be pumped into my veins.  It was a very long proceedure; I think we ended up leaving the hospital about 2:00pm. So that was my first dose over and done with. I have to have three more of this regime at intervals of  three weeks. A day before I am due for a cycle of drugs I have to have blood tests. If my white blood cell count is too low I have to wait until it comes back up, before I can have my next dose.

So I arrived home after firstly going to pick up a prescription for three kinds of anti-nausea medication which I had to take for the following five days. They also give you three vials of anti-nausea medication incase you actually vomit and can't keep tablets down.  If you get this bad, the nurse comes round and injects you with it.  Thursday night I felt ok. The oncology nurse did warn me that the steriods in the anti-nausea medication could make me feel a bit manic.  Friday morning I felt ok and decided I would go and get the groceries with Darren.  This was ok too but the meds made me feel that I couldn't stop walking so I pushed the trolley and just kept on the move.  Friday afternoon I started to feel tired and things started to kick in. My face started to feel hot and I looked like I had a bad dose of the flu. I think Saturday was the worst day of all; all I did was sleep, wake up and take meds and try and eat a few spoonfuls of food and then go back to bed.  I was so ravenously hungry but had no appetite and the more hungier I was, the more nauseous I felt. Also one of the meds made me fidgety and during the night I had to keep getting out of bed and walking around to ease the weird sensations.

Sunday morning dawned and I felt slightly better. I was able to send a few texts and managed to hand sew a hem on one of my work dresses.  In the afternoon Darren took me out for a drive in the car and I managed to get out at the park and have quite a long walk in the sunshine.  I even managed to wolf down a lovely beef roast that evening.

Monday came and I felt even better still only I could not stomach the sickly sweet smell of the air freshner in the toilet or the smell of the handsoap in the bathroom.
Another side effect of the anti-nausea drugs is that it can effect the muscles in the fact that they do involuntary things.  Much to my annoyance, the sides of my mouth seemed to take on a mind of their own and much to Darren's amusement, I started to dribble from both corners.  Luckly this passed in a couple of days.

Tuesday I was feeling even better.  Once I was on my way up I seemed to improve in leaps and bounds so much so that Nicole and I went shopping.

On Wednesday I went back to work.  I felt better than I thought I would even though I had to have a rest half-way up the stairs to my office.

On Thursday I started to get a bit of a sore throat and had also developed big, painful ulcers on my tongue and a very sore mouth, which made me quite miserable.  I followed the nurses advice and made up a special mouthwash, got hold of some Orocort from the chemist and by the next morning, my mouth was on the mend.

To ensure that I stay in good health, I am not allowed to go anywhere where there are huge crowds of people and also I am not allowed to hug anyone.  They may be carrying an illness or infection but be unaware of it. I also have to stay away from people that have coughs, colds or flu. Because my white cell count is low it means that my imune system cannot fight anything and if I get an infection, it will put me in hospital....I think I've spent enough time in a hospital bed in the last few months so am not keen to revisit.

I am now on day 14 and my hair has just started to fall out. Just as well we are heading into the cooler weather.

So, my next round is scheduled for 6th May and I am all prepared and know what to expect.  Next time I will be half way through this main regime. The three months will be up before I know it.

The Big Shave

Well, I have finally done it, I've shaved off my hair! No, I haven't joined the ranks of Britney Spears and shaved it off for attention but have mentally and physically prepared myself for my impending loss of lovely locks.  I am not prepared to sit back and wait for the drugs to decide when they will attack my hair follicles. I am the boss, I am in charge and it will go when I say so! I start my chemotherapy on the 15th April; two thirds of the way through this journey that nobody wants to take. I am almost to the finish line.

Once my hair starts to fall I will have to shave it anyway as it comes out in clumps so I thought it best to do it whilst I am feeling strong, well and happy.  Whilst the roast was cooking on Sunday night, our bathroom became a barbershop.  Darren was revving up the clippers and all keen to go......my heart was racing...but there was no going back. The pictures are self explanatory.

I braved the big wide world this morning and ventured out in public to our local shopping mall to go and get my bloods taken at the lab. I avoided making eye contact with anyone in the carpark and prayed that a big gust of wind would not suddenly rip through the carpark and take my hair with it. I opened the door to the lab waiting room and.... the room was full!  Talk about being thrown in at the deep end. There were 12 people waiting and I had to wait in front of them all at the counter behind another lady who seemed to take forever. I kept telling myself, it is only you that knows it's a wig.  When I at last could take a seat, I glanced around to see if anyone was staring at me......nope, they weren't. I felt quite warm and as my head started to heat up, it began to itch and itch. I tried to be discreet and scratch it but was so aware that one false move by a wayward finger nail would send the wig flying across the floor and I would be left sitting there with my bristles showing for all the world to see; so I suffered in silence.  I have had it on for half a day now and the itchiness seems to be going away abit. Thank goodness we are moving into the colder months.  I am off the hair dressers tomorrow afternoon as the fringe is a bit long, so they will trim that for me. 

So, I no longer have to do my hair each morning for the next 6 months or so.  All the upkeep this thing requires is a quick wash in a mild detergent once a week and shaken and left on its' stand to dry. Because it is made of artificial hair, I do have to be careful when cooking or around anything that gives off heat as it will melt the strands and the last thing I want is a clumpy mess....not the look I am going for.

Reconstruction Part 2 Pictures

For those who are interested I am posting pictures of the different stages of the reconstruction process. This first photograph was taken pretty much straight after surgery with the skin expander inserted but not filled. As you will see the drains are still in.

This second photo is taken a few weeks later when I had the first of my saline injections to start expanding the skin expander.

Here we have the skin expander after it was injected a second time. It is now taking on a more breast-like shape.

Third and final saline injection. My poor skin was so dry and stretched my this time, that it was decided not to do any more saline injections after this. The scar runs along the centre of the breast.

This photo was taken almost three weeks after the operation. The scars will eventually fade.  The underside of the breast still is a little bit firm and bruised.  This is just an accumulation of dried blood in the skin underneath. This will also soften up as time goes on. It is also still a bit swollen so the new one is a bit bigger than the  other. My new nipple will be created once all this has healed in approximately three months. I now also have a 'new look' tummy button where a hole had to be cut out over the original one and stitched around the outside of it.   I am due to start chemotherapy on the 15th April for six months  and am most probably going to shave off my hair the weekend previous to that starting.

                                                     

Appreciate What You've Got

Whilst I was in hospital I did a lot of magazine reading. One particular article that has stuck in my mind is one that I read about how we feel about our body image.  We are our own worst critics when it comes to this. I am the first one to admit when I look in the mirror I focus on the areas that I like least about my body.  We are constantly judging our own bodies by the unrealistic images we see in magazines. By that, I don't mean pictures of 'normal' bodies but those of Hollywood stars and models that have had all their imperfections airbrushed out of the picture.  And then, God Forbid, if any of these people are photographed showing cellulite, love handles etc or sin of all sins, going without make-up, such a big deal is made of it that we cringe and think that these things are something to be kept hidden. The point I am trying to make here is that we all have parts of our bodies that we wish were better but once you lose something on your body, you don't know how good it is, till it's gone.
If we didn't have our hands, we would not be able to feel a childs hand, so trustingly, slipping into our own. If we didn't have arms, we would not be able to hug the ones we love the most. Without our legs, there would be places that we could not go to enjoy everything that life has to offer and without feet we would not appreciate walking along a beach and feeling the sand squelch between our toes when the tide washes in.  So enjoy your bodies whilst it is all in working order, yes, even the lumpy, bumpy bits.

Yesterday my daughter Nicole and her partner went to the Wairarapa for the day.  They stopped off at a chocolate shop in Greytown.  She bought me home a present.   It was a new nipple - a chocolate one. Suffice to say, the thought was there but it was far too tasty and by the time I would be ready to use  it, it will have melted......so I ate it!

Home James

I awoke at 5.45am for my pain killers and couldn't get back to sleep...I was excited that I was going to be going home today.  I still didn't get away with not having to have the morning jab though! I got up (after still not being able to eat much breakfast) and got myself showered, dressed and face made up.  Packed up my gear and waited for Darren to arrive and to be discharged. Once all the formalities were done I was free to go. Emma, my lovely student nurse was sad to see me go and said she would miss me.  Best of luck to you Emma, you are  going to make a wonderful nurse!

A Kick Up The Backside

I woke up this morning feeling a little better emotionally. As I lay in bed I decided that I would give myself a swift kick up the backside....pity party over...get on with it girl.   So I made a plan for the day. After breakfast I was going to have a shower, get dressed into some clothes and try to put a little bit of make-up on to make myself feel better. I was not going to return to bed at all today and I wasn't going to laze around watching tv either; instead I was going to walk unaided down to the lounge and do some crossword puzzles.
I seemed to have a morning of interruptions with my dressing across my stomach becoming loose in the shower. The plastic surgeon had to be called in as he doesn't like anybody but himself to touch his dressings. He is a perfectionist, which is what you want when you are having plastic surgery.  The last thing you need is a surgeon slapping you back together and saying "that will do".  He took off the dressings and I saw my new tummy button for the first time. Because he had to stretch the skin down, he had to cut a round hole so my tummy button could show through. He then attached the skin by stitching around the tummy button. He then told me that he was quite concerned during surgery because the skin started to turn blue around the tummy button, which meant there was no circulation and the skin was starting to die but he said that it took on the new blood supply eventually so all is well.
Next event for the day was physio. Today I was going to walk up and down a flight of stairs for the first time. Mission accomplished.  I had successfully managed to get some make-up on my face by lunch time.  When they brought around my lunch of chicken pate, salad, cheese and crackers and leek and potato soup I just looked at it and felt nauseas and had an upset tummy. I didn't quite know what was wrong with me. I had asked Darren to bring in KFC for my tea that night too. As much as the meals are beautiful I just felt like some junk food.
I managed to go down to the lounge for an hour and do some crosswords but as the afternoon wore on I felt more sick so ended up going back to my room and laying down for a while. The nurse suspected that it was now the ibuprofen upsetting my tummy, so  she decided to stop giving it to me. Now I was just down to panadol. Darren turned up with the KFC the same time as the dinners were served. Just one whiff of the meal made feel queasy again but as I watched him scoffing his KFC, my mouth began to water.  I managed to eat a piece of chicken and some chips.  It was the best KFC I'd tasted in a long time. The nurse was disgusted!!!!
That evening I went to bed and watched the Sunday night movie, laughing until my stitches were fit to bust.  Tomorrow I was going home.

I Don't Like Mondays

I don't much like Mondays and even though I didn't have to get up for work, today was no exception.  I woke up feeling very miserable and tearful and missing home. I still hadn't caught up on my sleep so today I decided I was going to have a bit of a party...a pity party that is!! I don't really think I had allowed myself to do that since my diagnoses five months ago. After breakfast I got into the shower, leaning on the stool to support my still painful back. As I viewed my, what felt like a mutilated body, I asked myself what I had done to deserve having to go through all this. I felt like my life had just begun to settle down. I was married to a fabulous man and we had just bought a new home and were planning a cruise in October...this whole episode had put our lives on hold, both physically, mentally and financially. I try to be a nice person and can't understand why there are people in the world who cause others horrendous harm but get away unscathed from things like this. I cried like I had never cried before but it felt good to let go of the grief.
Later on, one of the nurses came in and sat with me and listened to how I was feeling. Even though she hadn't been through it, she was very understanding and just to have somebody listen was comforting. She also thought that the morphine type medication was causing my sadness so she decided to try ibuprofen instead.
When Darren arrived he took me out for another spin in the wheelchair. This time we ventured outside for a breath of fresh air and did a few wheelies around the carpark which blew the cobwebs away.  On the way back to my room me made me drive myself...crikey...and I thought I was bad enough steering a Pak N Save trolley.  Those things have a mind of their own.

Same Stuff - Different Day And A New Means Of Travel

The next three days all sort of rolled into each other with lots of magazine reading, tv watching, having visitors, eating, physio and walking the corridors on the zimmer frame. Friday night I found it very difficult to get to sleep and lay awake until 2:00am. I relentlessly rang for the nurse and asked her for something to help me sleep. Morning came around all too quickly so on Saturday I was a bit of a cot case having had only about 4 hours sleep. My back was still giving me a tremendous amount of pain and the plastic surgeon told me that sometimes that can occur after surgery such as this. The nurses were very kind; one even went as far as using some of her own special anti-flam rub and massaged it in for me. I had also developed a bit of a cough irritated throat from the tubes which were put down there during surgery to keep the airways open.  The cathetar was also irritating my bladder and making me feel as if I wanted to wee continually, so I was pleased when they removed it on the Saturday. I was now able to walk around my room unaided but very slowly.
On Sunday Darren came in and I asked the nurses if we could use one of the wheelchairs as I had not been out of my room since Wednesday and was getting cabin fever. They said we could and so Darren took me for a bit of a spin along the corridor.  It felt so strange to be pushed in one of those and I felt like an old lady but it was good to be free for five minutes.

First Day As A New Woman

Today I woke up so hungry that I couldn't wait for the breakfast to come round. It had been 24 hours since my last meal. If you think for one moment that you get a good rest when you go into hospital for something like this, then let me tell you, that you do not. Hospital life is very busy and begins at 5:30am with painkillers as a pre-breakfast appetizer.  Then once you have drifted back off to sleep, you are woken again for a nice jab in the upper thigh with a sharp needle full of anti-blood clotting drugs. Not a pleasant way to start the day I can tell you and each day you get another nice bruise to prove it.

The plastic surgeon's visit was next. He told me that the surgery had gone well but my poor breast skin was so stretched and thin from the skin expander that they were unable to keep it intact and had to use all of my stomach skin to reform the breast. He also said that they had run out  of skin so there was a little bit of a gap on the underside of the breast next to my arm. I'm buggered if I can notice it; it looks pretty good to me. It is still quite swollen so is a little bigger than the finished product but the swelling should subside by the 3rd week. After breakfast, the nurses came in and gave me a bit of a wash and brought me my toothbrush so I could feel a bit more refreshed. Once that was done it was time for exercises with the physio and my first attempt at getting out of bed. This was extremely difficult to do. I had to bring my knees up, roll onto my side and then push up with my arms, at the same time swinging my legs off the bed. Once I had done it, I burst into tears and blew snot bubbles everywhere. I didn't really know why I was crying because it didn't really hurt. The nursing staff said it was the morphine and anaesthetic that causes the tears. They then bought me a walking frame which I grasped for dear life and pulled myself to half-standing with it. I could not stand up straight and was crouched over like an elderly woman. The pain I felt on standing was almost unbearable. It wasn't the operation site that was the problem; I felt like I had been smacked in the lower back with a piece of 4 x 2. I was able to manage one step forward and two to the side (bit like a waltz really) and then I sat back down on the bed exhausted....what an effort! They then left me to sleep and said they would be back for more exercises in the afternoon.  Hmmm...I couldn't wait!

Reconstruction Part 2

Well, today is the big day and once again I find myself standing at the breakfast bar, half asleep, gobbling down breakfast and knocking back my last cup of tea with milk before my food curfew begins at 7:00am. It was going to be a long time until I would be able to have anything to eat again.  We left for the hospital  ready for my admittance at 11:30am. We were again greeted by my lovely student nurse Emma. I now began to feel like an old hat around the place and almost felt inclined to ask if there were any jobs going as I seem to be spending so much time at Bowen Hospital, I may as well work there; after all I do know all of the staff!! Once again, I had my  surgical shower, donned my lovely blue hospital nightie that buttoned at the shoulders and signed my life away with the anaesthetist and jumped into bed awaiting my turn, like a lamb to the slaughter. At 1:00pm I gave my daughters a kiss and Darren walked with me as far as he was allowed to go. I gave him a kiss and told him I would bring him back a new woman. Once in theatre the team began preparing me for my surgery. I couldn't believe how different it was again going under the anaesthetic. This time I felt like I was walking down a beige corridor which  had a white light at the end but I couldn't quite make it to the end.
The next thing I knew it was gone 6 o'clock and I heard the recovery room nurse asking me what my pain level was on a scale from 1-10. With all the strength I could muster to talk, I told them it was a 9. They gave me a shot of morphine and gave me the pump to hold. Each time I felt pain, I was to press the button and the tap would administer a dose. Once awake, they wheeled me back to my room where I dozed in and out for about an hour and don't really remember much except my daughter Nicole wiping my hot face with a nice cool flannel.
In between times, I remember waking up and sleepily having a quick peek at my newly formed boobie. When I was properly awake my voice was so raspy from having the tube down my throat for five hours, it sounded like I had smoked a whole packet of Winfield Red in one go. I was so hungry but didn't have the strength to eat anything. My first meal became a lemonade iceblock which I ate whilst struggling to keep my eyes open between bites. The worst part of post-op is that the nurses come in every 30 minutes and are administering IV drugs, taking temperatures and blood pressures etc so once I did fall asleep, I was jolted awake again until 11pm at night and then every two hourly afterwards.

Reconstruction - Part 1 (Contains graphic pic)

On Wednesday 3rd March I had the first step of my reconstructive surgery at Bowen Hospital. My operation was scheduled for 3pm but the plastic surgeon was still in theatre so they didn't get started on me until about 4pm.  I hadn't had anything to eat since 10 am that morning and nothing to drink since 12noon so was keen to get this over with so I could afterwards lay back, have a drink and watch 'Packed To the Rafters' at 8.30 that evening.  I had a sense of dejavu as I had my pre-op antiseptic shower and donned my lovely surgical socks. This time I felt so calm in fact I remember feeling more nervous than this when I first had a bikini wax.  This time I had the honour of being wheeled into theatre by the plastic surgeon himself and the anasethetist.  This time I had a good look around the theatre and noticed that there were six people all taking care of me plus the student  nurse who I had agreed to let observe the operation.This same nurse will also be taking care of me along the way right through to the end of the reconstructive process. It was strange going under the anasethetic this time. The first time I felt woozy and remember going out but this time my arm felt warm and that was the last thing I knew until I woke up in recovery.  The operation this time was only a short one taking about an hour.  It is called a delay.  The surgeon makes an incision in the shape of a horseshoe on my tummy.  This is to get the blood circulation going into the piece of skin they are going to cut out to form my new breast. From the photograph you can see the lines which the plastic surgeon has drawn.  This is the area which will be cut out next week.  The incision has been covered with honeycomb padding and waterproof dressing so I can shower.

The surgeon also drew some saline out of the skin expander because the skin was so stretched, that the fold of the expander was almost pushing a hole through my skin; so now I have a wrinkled up triangle shape for a breast.I came home the next morning and have been up and about but still quite tired and making sure I have lots of sleeps.

Birthday Blessings

6th February 2010

It was my 47th birthday on Saturday and my daughter Nicole told me that her and Kelsey were going to take me out for lunch.  We got ready and set off (albeit 20 minutes late) to Ambience. It was a boiling hot day, the markets were on and there people everywhere.  It was safe to say that I couldn't find a car park anywhere. We eventually found a park and feeling somewhat hot and flustered we walked into the cafe. As we stood at the counter I looked around and saw one of my friends sitting at a table.  I thought that was strange as I had only spoken to her yesterday and she hadn't mentioned that she was going out to lunch. Then as I looked around at the other ladies one by one I realised that my daughters had invited some of my good friends and my mother-in-law as a surprise.  And that it was!  We had a lovely afternoon together and I am so blessed to have friends and family who care so much.

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting

The thing that I have discovered mostly since the beginning of this journey is that everything associated with it involves waiting.  Now some people who know me say that I am a patient person but I beg to differ. Every process involves waiting; waiting for appointments, waiting for tests, waiting for the results, waiting to be referred to someone else. Then back you go to square one and start all over again. I am one of the lucky ones because most of my procedures are being done privately except for the chemotherapy.

14th February 2010

On Wednesday I had the pleasure of going to Wellington Public Hospital. (Previous post readers will know how I feel about that place).  Suffice to say, I was seen to a lot quicker this time round. I was booked in for a CT scan at 8.30am.  This test is done as a matter of course just to make sure there is nothing anywhere else they should know about. So the previous night I had to drink a solution of Losec which lines the stomach.  The following morning I wasn't allowed any breakfast and had to drink two more lots of Losec one hour apart before we left and on the way in to the hospital.  Yup, it's great being stuck in early morning traffic with a full bladder.

Once I got to Radiology I had to have, yup you've guessed it, another drink of Losec. This is given before they put dye into my body so that the dye shows up.  The nurse then put a line into my vein so that they could administer the dye.  Once I start chemotherapy I shall be having a larger one of these,  (called a PICC line) in my vein for the entire six months where the chemotherapy drug will be administered.

Once the preliminaries were done I went through to the CT scan machine.  You lay on the bed and the bed raises up and passes the area to be scanned backwards and forwards through the hole where the cameras are. It takes about half an hour. The nurse told me that once the dye was injected I would feel a warmth all over my body and would feel a sensation like I had wet my pants, when actually I hadn't.  Very weird, I must say.

Once I had finished there I had to go and have my MUGA scan which is a moving picture of my heart function.

Firstly I had to have some metal injected into my hand and then had to wait half an hour for it to work it's way to my heart.  Once it had done that I had some radioactive liquid injected into my vein via the line in my arm.  The nurse informed me that I would be radioactive for 12 hours afterwards and to stay away from pregnant women and children. 

The MUGA machine was set up similar to the CT scan only the camera was on the left had side of me  and they lowered it down over my heart area.  I had to lay still for 30 minutes.  Once that was done I was free to go. Who would have thought that the waiting room would have been so full of children so needless to say we didn't hang around.

I had found out the day before that my chemotherapy isn't booked to start until March 18th.   Another wait.  My oncologist had said last week when I met him that I could go ahead and have my reconstruction before starting chemo if I wish as I don't have to have radiation treatment. So I made an appointment later in the day with my plastic surgeon and that's what we have decided to do.  I am booked in to have the first part done on the 3rd March. It involves a night hospital stay where they will score the skin on my abdomen to encourage the blood vessels to that area.  They will cover it will plastic dressing and I will go home for a week. Then on the following Wednesday (10th March) I go back into surgery.  They will take the fat and skin from my stomach and push it up under my skin and into the pocket of stretched skin, to form the new breast. They will then sew up my tummy and create a new belly button as the one I've got now will be pulled down low and will look strange. I will be in hospital for 7 days as this is quite a biggie but will be well worth it.  I have just about had enough of the skin expander as there are some sharp corners on it pushing my skin out from the inside so it will be good to have that gone.   I will be off work for six weeks this time.  Then after that I just have the chemotherapy to go and I shall be as good as new one!