It's been over a week since
I last wrote, and I blame that entirely on the fact that I'm now feeling so
much better over the past few days that I've been well enough to do all sorts
of other things instead. My arm is still annoyingly hopeless, simple things
like buttering bread results in the whole kitchen being buttered too.
Everything takes longer, but it's still a whole load better, and a whole lot
less painful than even a few days ago, so we're moving in the right direction.
However, I have absolutely no stamina, my energy levels are running at zero,
and I'm totally exhausted the whole time, but it's still good to feel more
normal.
I'm now waiting for the Cancer Hospital Theme Park to let me know which ride I'm to go on next, and
when.
Last week I saw the vein lady - did she keep
looking in the mirror? - someone asked me. No she didn't. She was utterly
lovely, warm, knowledgeable, sympathetic and understanding about my needle
phobia, and spent an hour talking me through all the options. As well as an extreme
needle phobia, I also have lousy veins, the type they need to go excavating
deep deep down to try and locate, twisting the needle through chunks of my
flesh as they try to drain my blood. Hey, you noticed that? I can write about
it without cringing too much and having a panic attack! OK, so my eyes are
closed but I'm a pretty good touch typer. That is how good the vein lady was, I
can just about face it.
Not only do I have lousy veins, but since those
lymph nodes were removed they can't ever try to use my right arm for vein
access unless it was life or death. Chemotherapy damages veins, their toxicity
is such that they can only use the same vein about twice for chemo, when I'll
need to have 8 or so batches. That would mean that they would have to find
veins in all sorts of other places; feet, knees, hips, etc. No thanks, I'm not
doing that.
So the vein lady suggested a "device"
instead. Three to chose from, but I've opted for a "Portacath". This
is a little round bit of plastic that sits inside a really thick, strong, hardy
vein just below my neck. They'll be a little raised bump protruding out of the
skin - I'm regarding it as a "mini-boob" to replace the one they're
taking away. There's a round disk of what looks like the best middle bit
of a Jammy Dodger facing up, which can be stabbed 2.000 times. It means they'll
have to stab through my skin every time, but the vein lady is organising
warehouse quantities of magic cream just for me as well as a sedative
beforehand every time. Two reasons I went for this one - there is nothing
sticking out, so my lovely son T will have nothing to pull at, which he loves
to do. The other reason? It's the only one of the 3 devices where they have to
put it in with a general anaesthetic! Result! There's no way in a million years
that a needle-phobic like me would sit passively patient and co-operative while
they dug around in large veins to insert something, then thread it all the way
towards my heart. It's not a perfect solution, nothing is, but it's a pretty
award-winning compromise, if such a thing existed.
However, this now means that I may have the
mastectomy at the same time as the portacath being fitted, which would mean
delaying the chemo until 4 - 6 weeks later. Lots of worry there, then. I was so
pleased that the cancer hadn't spread last week, but it seems a bit like
tempting fate to give it another several weeks to keep trying. However, I also
feel quite squeamish that the cancer is still firmly locked away having a party
in my right breast, whatever they didn't get the first time round has probably
grown and spread to fill the void by now.
I'm also fairly certain that I'm going to ask
them to take away the left boob too. As a friend put it, boobs don't really
work in ones. I never made it as a page three girl in my youth, so I very much
doubt that if I only have one they will ever give me a slot on page
one-and-a-half. My decision is mostly because I'm very frightened of the cancer
recurring. My chances of it doing so are fairly through the roof - two primary
cancers, both starting to spread already, found at the same time - recurrence
is very likely indeed. Already, since diagnosis they have found two separate
"areas of interest" on the left side in addition to the definite
tumour. For the rest of my days I will live with the fear of recurrence, and
face frequent mammograms and biopsies to boot. If I ever get past this cancer
saga, I won't want to be looking over my shoulder all the time.
So the cancer team have to decide how to kick
start the next phase - with a mastectomy first or chemo. My job is to sit at
home, looking beautiful, waiting for the phone to ring. Meanwhile, I'm loving
every minute of these unexpected stolen few days of very happy relative
wellness.
I'm falling asleep as I write, so I'll finish it here, but I'm buzzing with so
much to say that I'll be back with the next one very very soon.
