Bit bored now of the drain and the tube dripping. Exercises seem to be getting harder not easier. Wonder if I have just spent the past week with the aneasthetic still whizzing round my body, arm, arm pit and most of all my general self. Suddenly today one week on broke down and cried because I couldn't fix my bandage myself. Should have started this blog a week ago when I was all peppy and ready to be discharged from hospital. Phoned my doctor and and asked him if the huge bruise forming on my lower arm was normal. He couldn't speak to me but the kindly Ludwig (yes that is really his name) called me back instead and answered my questions. I had written them down so as not to forget anything. He said the bruise was normal... not sure I believed him. Forgot to ask him if I can take a sleeping tablet as I am not so good at sleeping on my back. Jeronimo keeps pointing to the drain tube and saying "mummy boom". It does not stop him from trying to jump on me all the time and holding his arms up for me to carry him. Finished reading "Cancer Vixien" and enjoyed the portrayal of her 1 year journey and hope mine will be over in that time too. Feel a bit like some retail therapy but found that when they took the nail varnish from my toes before the operation I had some sort of nail fungi. Drain tube means no trousers or skirts, no breast mean no tops or underwear, foot rot means no shoes. I couldn't even get a handbag because I kept wondering if I could fit my drain into it! Will shop next week when they take out the drain. Still keep smiling and saying hello to strangers and then realise they are not staring because they recognise me, but because they are looking at my weird newly sprouted hair. God, i look like I've got cancer. Do wonder how the doctor is going to take the drain out of my body when I can clearly see it goes half way round my chest. It nestles under the skin like a sleeping serpent. it makes me wonder how i was grossed out by the little tube of my port. That tiny thing. People keep saying that they will just pull it out.. ug I can't wait. Ian and Barney came over for tea earlier. I had tea, they drank beer. Not sure they could cope with the mantra... "wouldn't it be funny if Judy had a wouldn't it be funny if judy had a .. " etc. Guess I found it a bit difficult to socialise especially as they headed off to the pub leaving me with toys to put away an children to get to bed. Did I chase them away? Maybe I need to get a new topic of conversation... one that does not include the varying colour of the bodily fluids that drip out of me. We have got a baptism to go to tomorrow. What can I wear? Maybe I should have bought the fluid bag shaped handbag I tried out today in Liverpool (department store type of shop named after the home town of the Beetles, yes very strange I know). If wear a pair of nice shoes will I have to incinerate them later because of foot shroomes. I can't wear flip flops because my feet are a bit of a state. The lady at Doctor Scholls said she thought it was down to the chemo that my feet were such a disaster. I didn't contradict her, but think that it is more likely layer upon layer of nail varnish and daily wearing of crocs that are probably to blame. When Jeronimo pointed out my discolored toes and said, "boom" I made a comment to Harry that i was falling apart. He asked how to say that in Spanish but I couldn't translate. "Significa que te vas a morir?" He asked me.. Does it mean you are going to die? "No, no of course not honey" I answered. Moments like that make me remember why the drain and the port are so important and why the foot rot is not.
I enjoyed putting that down.. having a rant has made me feel better. I guess I shouldn't have started last week, I should have started in December..
PS how does one spell check using a mac?
FormerMember
Hi judemex, just wanted to say you are a fantastic writer and if you are not already penning a book on your experience you should be! Don't worry about the drains, they don't hurt when they're taken out, and I say if you can cope with chemo you can cope with anything! Please keep up with the exercises, they are important and will make a difference, lots of painkillers help. Much Love, Jayne x (PS if you had Taxotere that will be cause of nail probs!)
thank you for your comments... not sure about the taxotere, not very good at keeping drug names in my head... do have it written down somewhere. Exercising 4 times a day with lifting of a tea cup as inbetween stimuli.
Still have drains but live in hope that this week they will stop draining.
Thank you for the comfort and my youngest helped by proving your point and giving it a good old pull to test out the truth in it.
Starting at the beginning... Serves you guys right for being so supportive about this blogging thing! Just opened my note book and out fell a huge chunk of my hair that I cut off after the first chemo. Also 2 newspaper clippings that I had stored. 1: A study on binge drinking that found 130% increased chance of breast cancer in women who drank 22-27 alcoholic drinks per week. 2: Scrubbing floors- "from an analysis of 220,000 women , they concluded that pre-menopausal women who did their own housework were 30% less likey to develop breast cancer than those who did none." I guess I was asking "why me?" at the time that I saved the cuttings. Or was I just feeling guilt ridden about being a lazy lush? (Although my drinking days had long been over I guess in my yoof I did probably manage the dizzy hieghts of more than 1 unit of alcohol at a sitting)
I did check my breasts.. not as a intergral part of my routine but hapazardly every now and again in the shower with a bit of soap and a squeeze. I am not sure that even in Marie Claire I have seen a how to check yourself article that actually uses the piano playing finger movement that my oncologists use. (or maybe British oncologists don't do that...) In December 2007 I found a lump. Not just a pea sized thing but a walnut sized thing. It seemed to move when touched and was not sore. It felt like one minute it wasn't there and the next.. hello. I spent the next month with my hand straying to my breast to check. Each time I was surprised to find, yeap, still there. But, it was December and I had a wedding to go to... in the UK and then a family holiday planned in Canada with my sister in law. So as one does; women in general, mother's in particular; I kept quiet and, apart from my own boob groping (yeap, still there) everything was normal. The wedding was such a fabulous event and as well as seeing two of my most special people tie the knot I also got to catch up with loads of old friends. "How are you?" they asked. "Me, I'm fine.. found this funny lump in my breast but apart from that all is well." Of course I didn't answer. Christmas in Canada was such a wonderful family affair. Harry, my oldest, was a bit upset that snow is actually cold and wet but apart from that we had a brillant time. When we got home I made an appoitment with my gynacologist. He did that piano playing thing they do around both breasts and proclaimed the lump, probably nothing but it had to come out. The easy solution and how I readily agreed. He booked me in for two weeks hence. I couldn't do the week before as I had a wedding to go to! He did not take a biopsy and did not send me for a mamogram. I did not go for a second opinion. I have had friends who have had lumpectomies and found benign tumours, I just assumed mine would be the same. On the day of the operation the doctor gave me what I guess was probably valium and a local anasethic. I was high as a kite and told them to turn up the heating and change the background Mozart for the Beetles. As the doctor wrestled the tumour from my breast he said, "mmm, don't like the look of that!"
When I got home I couldn't quite remember if he had said that or not. Had I been imagining it I wondered. I spent some days thinking, "surely he wouldn't really have said that as I now had a week to wait for the results?" "Oh everything is fine, just have to wait for the results." I told everyone. I couldn't sleep. I spent the nights pacing.. no, I lie. I spent the nights watching crap on tele. "Snakes on a Plane" was my favourite. Just the right amount of mindless violence, unbelievable plot lines and of course no soppy interludes. I didn't need any help to cry thank you very much. I have a pain in my right hip and have done for a while. I just kept thinking I would lose my leg, breast I can deal with, leg not so sure. (Bone oseo has since revealed no metastisis there but the pain goes on) The mantra wouldn't it be funny.. etc doesn't work so well on a leg. I need my leg, not my breast. But I guess if it comes to it after all there is always a worse case scenario as the Cancerbacup website shows. Youngest child awake after his nap so must stop here and tomorrow I may carry on... and on and on... looking back on the first few months I still can't sort out how I should be feeling. Shit I have cancer I could die, help, this isn't happening to me or at the other end of the scale chillout it's early breast cancer get over yourself will you? At least I have stopped making everyone who travels in the car with me listen to Kylie Monogue.
P.S. Is it just me or are the maths questions stressful? 3+4= 7 yes I am sure it is 7 or am I? yes pretty sure. Oh no what if I get it wrong.. help does that mean I will no longer be a human visitor.
