If you haven’t been following my story so far, then a short re-cap. I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer in December, brought about because of high dose radiotherapy I had in the sternal area for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma 19 years previously. Although it had always been a threat, it still came as a bit of a shock when I was diagnosed, as I thought that maybe being so long after the radiotherapy, I was going to be ok. Then it was the decision what surgery to have. The hospital were advising me to go for the mastectomy option, whereas I felt I wasn’t ready for it, and was pushing for the partial mastectomy option with chemo follow-up. My surgeon was very sympathetic and didn’t want to push me towards something I wasn’t emotionally happy with so two days after Christmas 2011 I went in to hospital as a day case for a wide local excision and sentinel node biopsy. Normally, after such an op, most women (and some men – yes men get breast cancer too!) then go on to have low-dose radiotherapy to the area, but because I had been zapped before, this option was not open to me, and I was started on a course of tamoxifen 20mg to be taken for the next five years. Yep, it’s a long course! However, on receipt of the pathology results, my surgeon informed me that whereas during my WLE op they had managed to get the 11mm tumour out, there was still some DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ – basically cancerous cells that have not yet spread) remaining, and that a second operation was required to remove them. So in February, I went in for the exact same procedure – and this time it was successful.
On my follow-up after the second procedure, my oncology surgeon provided me with some rather scary facts – basically the likelihood of a more aggressive cancer returning within the next 12 – 24 months in one or both sides was extremely high, and I should still consider having a mastectomy – either one sided and the other done six months later, or both at the same time. Either that or I could continue with the tamoxifen treatment and just live “on a wing and a prayer” that the cancer wouldn’t return. Basically, the options were lose my boobs and live a happy and long life with no threat of breast cancer returning, or staying as I was and in doing so, cutting my lifespan short drastically. I wanted to see my kids grow up and get married, I wanted to do so much more with life that I decided the double mastectomy was the sensible option – get it over and done with – and booked myself in for the surgery at the beginning of June.
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| My hospital room |
Although initially I hadn’t wanted implant reconstruction, the medics advised me strongly to get them – mainly because of my age (they recommend young patients to get them as the emotional impact on life thereafter is more positive), and all the information was given to me well in advance of The Big Day, including the necessity to wear a velcro band across my chest 24/7 for six weeks (to keep implants in place), do no housework for the first six weeks post-op, no stretching, no strenous exercise, no driving and no sleeping flat in bed. The next thing I knew, the op was over and I was the owner of a new set of smaller boobs and the victor of another battle against cancer. The surgery took a few hours (I believe) but within a couple of hours of getting back to my “suite” (my name for my personal hospital room) I was having the obligatory tea and toast; and the very next morning I was up and about, dragging two surgical drains in my wake. Recovery was uneventful – the painkillers were great as they were not only effective on making the whole post-op thing pain-free, but they turned me into a space cadet, so visitors were often subjected to me rambling on about nothing in particular usually about nonsense! Having had my surgery on the Tuesday, I was scheduled to go home on the Friday, but my drains were still filling up too quickly, so my stay was prolonged by an extra couple of days – very frustrating, but necessary – and then I was home!
Went back for my review appointment a couple of weeks later – the surgeon had in his hand the pathology results from the operation. He told me that in choosing to have the double mastectomy when I did was exactly the right decision, as they found that in the opposite side from where my tumour had been, there were numerous atypical cells and a 4mm section of DCIS – in plain English, if I had just stayed on tamoxifen treatment without having had this operation, I would have been in a worse position come this Christmas than I was last year as the cancer would have returned (a different and more aggressive type of breast cancer that is not affected by tamoxifen). So there you go folks! It seemed a bit of a drastic option to take, but it has literally saved my life.
Six weeks on and I have enjoyed bedrest whilst watching Wimbledon tennis on the TV, people running hand and foot after me, my Mum’s baking arriving by the tin-ful, flowers and cards from friends, and a few visitors. The reconstructive surgery is so good that many people haven’t realised I have already had the operation! My cancer nurse has warned me that I will shrink some more, and that by Christmas time (another five months away) my body will have taken on its new look. So I guess I am still metamorphosising as I type up this blog. I am back on tamoxifen (to purge any rogue cells that may have got into my system from the surgery) and that makes me feel nauseous most of the time, but I see that as a small price to pay for beating cancer yet again. I have the odd “wobbly” day when I have a self-image crisis, but that is because my chest still feels tight and like I have internal sunburn; and also because I’m still quite swollen, I think that everyone is looking at me thinking I look like Dolly Parton! But things are on the up, and having reached this milestone it’s the start of a whole new life chapter.
Cancer isn’t necessarily a death sentence folks – take it from a Pro cancer fighter like me. Stay positive – getting stressed or wallowing in self pity won’t make it go away. At times it is tough going, but persevere. Having a fantastic family, fabulous local friends, and an amazing array of supportive gems through Facebook and Twitter (most of whom I have never met!) has helped enormously, especially with the emotional side of things. Advice and humorous stories from one lady on Twitter who went through similar surgery to me a few years ago was appreciated most of all – thank you Sandy. Since then I have been able to help a couple of people online who are facing similar surgery to that which I have gone through. Cancer is scary, cancer is frightening, but when you beat it to a pulp, there is not a feeling like it in the world. There’s a great life out there for living.When I was in hospital, I often took a little stroll along to the adjacent General Oncology ward to chat to some patients who hadn’t got visitors, and compare surgical drain bags (yes the fun we stooped to in hospital!). In that ward I met some real superheroes, all fighting their own personal battles against the big C – some were winning, some were trying their best to win, but things were tough. It was a very emotional experience. I went back to my ward knowing I was one of the lucky ones who would be walking out of that hospital when my discharge day came. I still think of those brave souls today and wonder how they are getting on.
Scores on the doors: June 3, Cancer 0. Let’s hope this time it got the hint and never comes back
!P.S. An update to my last blog…..I completed my Race For Life in May and raised £1,057 in the process. Thank you to all who sponsored me.
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