Bald Barren And Boobless

An honest and comical reflection of my journey through breast cancer

Tag: Mastectomy (page 3 of 3)

Shaving down for battle

September 6, 2014 / / 2 Comments

safety_razor

Wednesday the 18th December 2013

It’s my day to go to the hairdresser.  A sweet piece of normality.  After years of struggle to find a good hairdresser, one that cares, that wants to know me and my needs, that is not into the hair “up sell.” That’s Luisa.  I found her through my sister in law and she is just great. She works on the basis that it is a small boutique salon where you are always the only client! It’s so personal and private I love it.

She is honest, about my crowning glory or not. I have always had fine hair with far too many cowlicks, but she is great, she shows me ways to make it do what I would like within reason. If I pick a picture and say I want that she gently brings me back to earth.

I book in ahead each time my hair is done so I had this appointment booked in for 7 weeks. So since the last appointment I have been diagnosed with breast cancer and had the right mastectomy. Without any planning or foresight.

So I walk in and sit and she says “so how have you been?” I take a slow deep breath and say “well a fair bit has happened since I last saw you.”  She looks at me puzzled but realises something big has happened.  I tell her “I have breast cancer and have had a mastectomy 3 weeks ago.”  I planned on keeping it together but of course I did not and consequently I ugly cry all over her.  She cries with me, we hug, and then when we can speak I answer all of her questions.

I explain that I have been recommended chemotherapy and that I will definitely lose my hair so I would like it cut short in preparation.   So we look at some pictures and I explain what I want, she cuts my hair really short and I love it!!!

I asked her if I can come to her when I need to shave my head?  She is so supportive and says “of course.”  I had read of some women trying to make losing their hair as gentle as possible so they arranged to have champagne, food and their best girlfriends and to make it as special as they can.  You see there is something about losing your hair that many men don’t get.

Your hair is not often seen as particularly feminine but it really is. Perhaps less so for me, because I have never really had that amazing head of hair, I’ve just had hair. However, the prospect of being as bald as a badger makes me feel somewhat challenged, and certainly less feminine or beautiful.

Marc wants me to let him do the shaving, he has the shaver and does his own scone every few weeks. But I think I want it to be feminine, gentle and safe in case I lose it all together.  Even if you are a woman like me who has never had luscious locks, it is still a large part of me as a woman.

Luisa is so open to this option and we begin to strategise.  I explain that I have been told that my hair will fall out anywhere between 14-21 days after chemo starts, there is little warning it just comes out like it was never attached. Luisa says “call me whenever”, I agree and I leave with my sharp new hair do and my hairdresser on speed dial.

 

Life begins to move on

September 3, 2014 / / 0 Comments

road w quote

After the Oncologist, my big sister arrives for a bit over a week. Her and her Husband fly in from interstate. This trip was planned before the diagnosis; we don’t get to see each other often so I did not wish to change it.

My big sister has many health problems of her own, she has been to hell and back and this continues on a daily basis. She is resilient and takes each day as it comes. Her husband is an amazing support and they have the most wonderful relationship. They have been married and divorced before and finally found each other. It is so lovely to see how they do married life together.

It is hard for all of my sisters having me diagnosed with breast cancer I don’t think anyone expected the youngest sister to be diagnosed. It brings up all of the questions around genetics and family history. It makes each of them think, “will it happen to me, when will my body defy me?” We don’t have great genes honestly. Cancer, heart disease, weird blood disorders. But in our favour we are strong and resilient.

We spend lots of time sitting about talking and reminiscing. My sister closest in age to me stays for the week to see her big sister too, and to help out me after surgery. So we laugh, we cry, we talk, we disagree, it is a big week.

It has been an interesting journey for my big sister as her illness is obvious as she is on oxygen 24 hours per day. She also needs to use a walker or wheel chair to be mobile as she is so weak and is so much pain. She cannot avoid but explain what is going on with her health.

However, for the moment I have blessed anonymity, which I am treasuring. Soon enough I will be ‘bald, barren and boobless’ and obviously look like something is not right so I will have ‘the looks’, the inevitable questions. So for now I am not keen to even bring up my health with people outside the inner circle.

As we catch up with some distant family members over the week, my sister talks about her health and is quite puzzled when I don’t bring mine up. Again it’s me making the most of this window of opportunity when my health does not need to be the foremost topic of conversation.

Particularly when you don’t know how different people respond. Some are supportive and encouraging (excellent!), while others can be fear mongering, can blame you and then of course there’s those who open with “oh yeah I knew someone who died from that last month.” That’s always a helpful conversation. No I don’t have enough of my own fear and doubts that I wrestle with every moment, please give me more!  Once I explain to my big sister why I don’t wish to tell people she understands, again different people different journey.

It’s a full week, my second oldest sister visits from the Hunter Valley, which is lovely. I haven’t seen her since the mastectomy. She is my sister who has also had Breast cancer, so I feel like she understands so much more. She’s been there, she knows the “what if’s” the mind games we play, the pain, the body image issues, the grieving for normality, the realisation of ones own mortality.

So it has been a big week, I am slowly recovering, the pain is lessening, I still cannot wear a bra with my soft form prosthesis for long. It’s just too painful. If we go out in public and I feel the need to wear a bra, I almost rip my bra off when I get home. Oh the sweet relief when I do that.

It makes me angry that I feel the need to conform and wear my prosthesis in public. But then again without it I get the looks and questions. I don’t want to have to deal with that, I am still coming to terms with what this means for me. I am sure it will all become easier in time.

 

It’s all too draining

August 27, 2014 / / 0 Comments

quotes1Saturday  7th  December

Marc and Monica go to South Australia for the weekend. I am home with Sam for the weekend, I thought no problem I won’t be doing much. On the first morning that they are away I am innocently in the bathroom having a wash.

All of a sudden I notice that there is a strange sound. As I am standing there I notice that the length of drain that was inside my chest has fallen onto the floor! I didn’t really feel anything. But I am looking at this thin king “now what do I do?”

I guess it wants to come out; I am not sure what to do? I call my sister who is a medical professional, she is always great for advice, she does not answer, Marc is in mid air, I can’t put it back in, I decide to call the nurse. They say they will be there asap, they come 2 hours later. I have put a dressing over the top as it is oozing, lovely!

I am skipping about the house as much as a one boobed sore woman can skip, trying not to panic. I am sure I look like an epileptic cockroach. Oh well Sam is sleeping in so there in no audience.

The nurse arrives, she is calm so then I begin to calm down too. The drain is out, the dressing is removed from my chest. I must say it is freaking me out, the scar is healing well but it looks like the 2 edges of skin are just resting together and can open any time. I begin to have these visions of the flesh parting, it’s horrible.

My wound is so sore, I thought they said when the drain comes out I will feel better I am just as sore if not sorer. It may be due to all of my jumping about previously in a panic.  With time, as the drain pain lessens, I can move a bit more freely without the bag attached to me.  I no longer look like a lost librarian with my shoulder bag.  I feel like I am beginning to make some progress.  Yippee!

 

 

My first post surgery check

August 25, 2014 / / 0 Comments

bottled_up_emotions_by_photog_roadThursday 5th December

I am due for my post surgical review with my breast surgeon today. The warm caring man pre surgery seems to be MIA today and I am faced with a very curt business like man, who doesn’t seem to give a crap.

He looks at drain says “it’s ok but you need antibiotics”. He says “You are healing well and your pathology was inconclusive, there was some lymph node involvement but we have decided to take a conservative approach” – This does not sit well with me, so the cancer travelled?  How long do I wait?  All of these fear driven thoughts are invading my mind with such speed I can’t stop them.  He says “best case scenario, treatment will just be tablet, and they need to shut down my ovaries”.  Oh cool, that sounds hunky dory.  Awesome, what was I afraid of……

The completely frustrating thing is I know that this means.  This means Tamoxifen and my Mum was on this, each time she stopped taking it, on doctors orders her cancer would come back stronger than ever….   This drug frightens the crap out of me. I hated this drug for years.  Each time my Mum’s cancer came back with a vengeance. I also know that this means ”hello menopause” and this is scary for me too, I am 41, I’m not ready for this. But from his mouth, “just take a pill you’ll be fine.”  He does not even mention the menopause word, I think this is so wrong.

As a woman how am I meant to prepare and decide what is best for me when I am not being told all of the information?  The consequences of each treatment regime should be fully explained, and if not by him then he should be saying that this person will fully explain this for me. But nope, “just pop a pill darl you’ll be right!”

I ask some questions about my scars, he says “what are you worried about, this will all be ripped apart and redone when you have the reconstruction,” and then he adds “are you still persisting with the other breast removal?”  I try to remain calm but I want to rip his head off.

Persisting! You tell me the cancer has travelled, you tell me you have decided to take a conservative approach, then you have the hide to ask me if I am going to take up your precious time with the removal of my other breast!  Only after both my Mum and sister had cancer come back in the other breast????  I need to take some slow deep breathes so I don’t lose it.

I explain to him that I will be persisting with a double mastectomy as soon as I have been given the clearance to do so. I pray to myself that I will hopefully feel more heard by the oncologist in a few days.

I leave feeling frustrated, worried and angry. Why do these doctors minimize this experience, he is effectively removing cutting or chemically killing all of the things that make me a woman and I should be happy?????

As I leave I ask to pay for today as every appointment costs, she says “oh this consult was free, but here is the gap”, she gives me an invoice for $2000 and says “can you pay now?”  Sorry lovely I have not worked for a month or more and there is no money like this lying around in my account. I ask to make a direct deposit when I get home, she is not happy but agrees.

I am to see the oncologist on Monday the 9th, it is a woman, this gives me some relief, perhaps I will feel a little more understood. I get home and am so angry I don’t know what to do with myself, I can’t express it in words, I want to run but I am far too sore.  Aha, chocolate!

 

Adjustment, my new favourite word…..

August 21, 2014 / / 0 Comments

hands-held-tight

Monday the 2nd December 2013

I am home, which is so nice but also weird. I am such a carer, I like to look after people, so being in the reversed role is not easy. I know it is a gift for others to allow them to care for me and that it is selfish to not share that role. So I am trying.

I remember when my Mum was in the final stages of her disease and the cancer had progressed to her bones and organs she needed 24 hour care. As a family we all rallied as much as we could and looked after her at home. Well, to be specific she moved in with one of my sisters and we did our best to support my sister. Obviously, most of the care fell on this one sister, until mum was in the final stages and we were all there together.

My Mum fought this care, she too was a carer and she did not allow us to care for her. This broke most of our hearts, as we just wanted so desperately to care for her as she has so lovingly cared for us growing up. She struggled and in many ways became frustrated, as she was less able to do things for herself.   This translated into so much tension for her as we tried desperately to love and look after her. Fighting about something like this was the last thing any of us needed.

So seeing this battle and feeling it on the receiving end, I do not want to be the same I want to allow others to care for me when I need it. It is not easy it does not come naturally to me at all. I learned from my Mum to care for others, not to receive.  She taught me well, actually she taught all of her girls well.

My Mum would not ever ask for help, she walked on a fractured hip for weeks before the Doctor would even Xray it for her. I remember him saying to her, “if it was broken there is no way you’d be walking!”   He did not know my Mum hey!

So I am adjusting to asking for help, even getting out of the chair is hard; my chest is just so sore. The unexpected pain is the drain site. The drain is through my chest and into the space where the tissue was removed from my breast. There is about 0.5 cm of tubing wound up and around my chest. There is a bag attached and each day a Community Nurse comes and measure the fluid makes sure there is no infection and drains the bag.

The drain it self is so sore at the site of the entry into my chest. The nurses refer to it as “drain pain.” Apparently at times the drain can push on or aggravate nerves, this causes a burning pain that is hard to describe. This is the worst part so far, it is so painful there are times where I am afraid to move because it is like a hot knife in my side. They say it will be in for at least 2 weeks – too much fun!

I am propped up in bed at night unable to sleep well; I am a stomach or side sleeper so this is not acceptable. When I do sleep it is due to pure exhaustion. Sleeping pills anyone? I have a few to play with, most of them get me to sleep but I wake up at inhumane hours and then watch night time TV, which is scary.

I have woken poor Marc so excited about steam mops and all kinds of gadgets, selling him all of the benefits that have been drummed into my subconscious through the wee hours. You are so vulnerable at this time of day! Marc is thinking, “hide the credit cards!!”

It’s quite worrying really, how many people fall prey to this unrelenting marketing when they are at their weakest. Perhaps I should start a group called “Home shoppers anonymous” “Hi My name is Kylie, I shop at 2am from my darkened bedroom whilst wearing a snuggy purchased through this very shopping method.”

Surely I am not alone, am I?

 

 

Something’s Gotta Give

August 18, 2014 / / 0 Comments

breaking-point

Friday 29th November

So it is the day after my mastectomy.  I am sore, my chest is hard to see because of the dressing but the place where my right breast should be is a concave weird place. You think that without a breast you will look like a man, but you look hollow, almost dug out. It is weird to look at myself, hollow one sided chest and black eye, what a sight!!

Marc brings Samuel into see me today, he has to drag him in as he is frightened of what he may see. He is surprised to see that I still look like his Mum. Bad hair, drawn face but still his Mum. They need to get off to their days of school and work  so they leave me to rest.

I decide to write to the GP who would not support me in my search for answers. I decide that something needs to be said. I wonder how many others have been stifled or not pursued treatment after such a negative response. I could have so easily not pursued things with another Doctor. After all what if I was just being a whiner?   Despite feeling so bad sometimes you lie to yourself and tell yourself it’s not worth pushing, after all it is probably nothing, you just need to toughen up princess.

Have you ever discounted yourself like that? I know I have for a very long time. I think it’s part of the process that we go through at times when life gets busy and we start to lose ourselves. Particularly, those of us who have many roles. Here I am Kylie the Mum, Wife, Step mum, Business owner x 2, Sister, Friend, Colleague. I know most women who have had children can begin to lose their identity. I think its because we just get used to putting everyone else’s needs before our own. I mean in our house even the pets get fed before I do.

But this will need to change, I am realising that whilst there is a big part of this situation for me that is genetic, there is also a big part that relates to lifestyle I am sure. I have been putting myself last for a long time, not taking time for my self or care of myself. The funny thing is that no one asked me, or even expected me to, I just did it. Like being a good Mum and Wife means you come last.  Where does that message come from?

Again, my kids or Husband never said this to me, I just allowed it to happen. I passively stood by and decided that what I wanted or needed didn’t matter. How did I end up here?

It made me think back to earlier this year when I was asked by a Counsellor “what makes you happy?” When she asked me I sat there dumb founded thinking I have no idea, I burst into tears because it hit me just how sad that was. The worse thing is I am not the only loser here, so is anyone close to me. They don’t get the best of me either, just the chewed up spat out version.

So laying in a hospital bed, I have much time to think about my future and to think about how differently I am going to live my life. I only get one crack, I have much to offer and much more I wish to achieve in this short adventure on planet earth.

I decide I want to do life laughing, running, having a ball rather than depressed, run down and dragging my feet. So things will change, I will need to prioritise both my physical and emotional health. In doing this I will be able to be there for those special people in my world.

How this change is going to happen is another story and I am sure will be a long and evolving process.

 

 

 

It’s cut off day

August 11, 2014 / / 0 Comments

fearless quote Thursday 28th November 2013

Surgery day has arrived very quickly! We arrive at St George Private Hospital by 6am. We get all booked in and fill in all the paperwork. I have been nil by mouth since midnight.

The first “procedure” of the day is to have radioactive isotope injected at 9am. This is to see if any cancer has travelled out of the breast to the lymph nodes. It is a fairly new procedure so I am glad I get access to this new technology so to speak.

We meet another lovely lady and her family in the waiting room. She is there also to have the same procedure for a lumpectomy today. You can just see the fear on her face. Poor love. We make small talk and try to act like everything is going to be ok.

My lovely man Marc is with me every step of the way. Any one who knows us knows we cope with life through humour and lots of it. The poor technician that takes some images of me is very straight laced. Marc is trying to make him laugh and he is almost tripping over himself just to get out of the room more quickly. I am laughing so hard for a moment I forget what I am at the hospital for.

The injection of the radioactive substance really hurts but it only lasts a little while. This will trace the pathway from the breast to the lymph nodes so they can be biopsied and tested for cancer. I am then escorted back to the preparation area for surgery. I wear what I think is my most comfy mastectomy undies only to be told they are made of the wrong fabric and I need to wear these ridiculous paper ones. So uncomfortable, honestly there is no end to the embarrassment you experience.

The Breast care nurse comes by, she is lovely and makes me feel really at ease. She explains that I will receive some support regarding a prosthesis after the surgery and also receive support at home post surgery due to the drains I will have in place.  She also tells me I will get a soft prosthesis and a bra to wear after surgery.

The anaesthetist comes by and I feel like he has stepped of the set of mad men, he looks like he is right out of the 1960’s. A lovely man, funny, happy to chat, I am glad for the distraction to be honest. Its getting near 12 and I still haven’t gone in for surgery. I am becoming really thirsty and agitated, lets get the ball rolling people!!!

I finally go in for the surgery at 1pm. I get the smooth talking South American orderly who is as smooth as silk. He is wheeling me along and says in his smooth accent “So what is Santa Claus going to get you for Christmas?” Without even thinking is say “Breast cancer how about you?” Poor guy, does not have an answer for that and I am far too focused on the next part of my day to apologise.  I didn’t mean to sound nasty that is my bald sense of humour at times.

I am aware that I am awake and back in room by 5pm, I feel sore but ok.  I have a dressing on my right side chest and a drain coming from the right chest wall as well as a PCA for pain. At the push of a button I can get pain relief. Marc is there when I wake up which is nice. He has to leave at dinnertime so that the kids get fed, and I settle in for a quiet evening.

By 10pm I have the nurses encouraging me to get out of bed and use the toilet. This is not easy, it is very painful to move and I am not able to go. We realise pretty soon after a few attempts that it is more about performance anxiety than a surgical complication. PHEW!! I sneak to the loo by myself and am able to go, then tell the nurse that all is well.

Then at about 1030 the anaesthetist comes and says “hello.” What an unexpected and lovely surprise. After some routine small talk, he asks “so do you remember anything during the procedure?” I answer, “No should I?” He responds with a weird, “Nooo”.   He then vanishes into the night.

After he has left I look in the mirror and notice that I have a black eye!!! What on earth happened in that operating room?  As I lay there, laughing to myself,  pondering the endless possibilities I drift off into a broken sleep, first day after my mastectomy, I have survived, in fact I did quite well, I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

Decisions to be made

August 7, 2014 / / 0 Comments

tough decisionMonday the 25th November 2013

 

We see the Doctor again, he says “the second lump in the right is cancer, the left is benign”. He then says “You need a mastectomy, and I can do it on Friday”.

In my head I am saying to him, as if you are touching me dude! You can’t even remember my name how do I know you will remove the correct breast! I actually say, “I want a second opinion and will see another breast surgeon”. He mumbles uncomfortably, “yes sure you can do that, it is your right, I am sure he will say the same things as I just have.”

I call the Doctor who was recommended to me by the radiologist. He is back from holidays this very day; they agree to squeeze me in this Wednesday as in the day after tomorrow! – Thank you God. At least there is minimal wait time this time around. I don’t realise until much later how unusual this was. This doctor has a waiting list of more than 3 weeks!!

We begin making contact with everyone we need to tell. This is so taxing. Repeating the same story, dealing with the shock and emotion of the other person, making sure they are ok with your cancer diagnosis, it takes a real toll.

We get practical and do some group text messages, which really hit home for some of our friends. They respond with shock, calling to say “how can you tell us by text?” At the time this was really hard however reflecting back I am sure this was just their shock speaking. Practically we seriously couldn’t tell everyone we needed or wanted to tell.

We know more now so it is decided that we need to tell the kids. For those who don’t know we have a blended family. Marc has two amazing kids Josh, 20 and Monica now 18. I have the wonderful Samuel who is 13. Moni and Sam live with us in Sydney, Joshua lives in Adelaide closer to his Mum. Marc tells his kids and we tell Samuel. I decided to be really open as I remember what it was like for me as a kid not knowing the full story with my Mums health crisis. When you don’t know you fill in the blanks and that is a scary place.

I used the word cancer, and encouraged him to ask questions. His first question was, “will you lose your hair?” I said “maybe, maybe not, that still needs to be determined, but I am having surgery to remove one breast first.” Samuel is such a deep thinker, he took his time and then said “well Mum, if you lose your hair, I will get you a really cool beanie.”  What a sweet heart!

I watched him like a hawk to ensure he was ok. I encouraged him to ask me anything he wanted too promising that no question was silly or too hard. I also shared with him that I really believed that I would be ok, that I felt that God would look after me. I didn’t talk much with Moni about what was going on, she seemed to internalize it and to be honest at the time this happened we had not been in a great place for a long time.

On Wednesday 27th November we see the Doctor for a second opinion. He agrees mastectomy is the best course of action and can do it next week. I say “the other Doctor said he can do it Friday” he says, “let me check, oh I can do it tomorrow.”

Holy crap that was quick! He explains the process and says that he will also do a sentinel node biopsy to determine if the cancer has spread to the lymph nodes because that will change treatment options. I explain that based on my family history I want both breasts removed and now is preferable.

He listened but said “Look my first priority is to ensure we get the cancer under control, until we get in and do the pathology we don’t know what we are dealing with. We need to control cancer first, then discuss the other mastectomy, but I wouldn’t necessarily agree that that is your best course of action”.

I appreciated his honesty and candor and agreed that first priority was the cancer. I also needed to know that he would listen to my perspective, and I felt he would. So we agreed to go ahead and left with all of the paperwork.

We leave and call HCF, do you know until this point we didn’t even know if we were covered. Even with cover, upfront payment was $2000 just for the surgeon. I am nervously on the phone with a consultant and yes we are covered – thank God!

Marc and I then book in for surgery tomorrow and then go and get some new PJ’s for hospital. I’m going to need stretchy lose tops that allow good access to my chest.

I decide to make tonight a celebration so we have a “bye-bye booby” cake that night. I make a cake to represent my right breast. I want tonight to be a celebration not a sad event. So we crack open the champers, we laugh at my ridiculous rendition of a boob cake, it really doesn’t look like a boob. Any caterers or creative cake makers out there, this may be an opportunity for you?

What a day! What a week, and tomorrow the real fun begins.

Welcome

July 21, 2014 / / 0 Comments

 

Mum, Dad & my sisters and me.

Mum, Dad with my sisters and me (far left) Christmas 1997.

Welcome!  I am writing this blog with a specific intent.  If you are a person experiencing breast cancer or know someone who is then my aim is to share information to help you along through this journey.

I was diagnosed almost 8 months ago and am still in the midst of active treatment.  My experiences have been a combination of amazing, wonderful, heartbreaking, physically intolerable and disappointing.

I am sharing my story in an honest, authentic and tell all manner so that you can glean from my experience what ay help you or your loved one.  I have read so many stories my self and have found that each one has helped me in some way.  Whether it be a symptom of chemo that helps me to feel normal, a tip to cope with treatment, an idea on what to ask your Doctors, or how to cope in general, I will share all that I have learned and experienced along this road.

My journey with breast cancer began 42 years ago when I was born.  My Mum was diagnosed at 39 when I was a newborn breast feeding baby.  She had a mastectomy, and carried on with her life.  When I was about 7, she was in a car accident that ended up saving her life.  Whilst Xrays were done to determine the extent of a suspected back injury they found extensive bone cancer in her spine.

Treatment recommenced.  When I was 16, Mum found another lump in her remaining breast.  Her GP told her not to worry!  Several months later after she persisted in getting this assessed a second breast cancer was found and the second mastectomy was performed.  Mum had radiation and was taking Tamoxifen as the tumours were hormone driven.  She had already undergone a hysterectomy but had her ovaries removed also to protect her from the devastating effect of her hormones.

From then on, Mums bone cancer just kept on spreading until when I was in my twenties and spots were found on her liver and lungs.  I remember a time when mum hurt her hip.  She was such a stoic and strong woman she kept going but we all knew she was in pain.  She told her doctor and said that she thought she had broken her hip.  The doctor indignantly responded saying, “Oh no if you had broken your hip there is no way you would be walking.”

Mum persisted and eventually her hip was X-rayed a few weeks later.  She indeed had a fractured hip and her hip was riddled with cancer.  She ended up with 2 hip replacements to try and allow her to stay mobile.

On my 31st birthday, I was visiting with my son who was 18 months old when mum had a minor fall (It was more like a bump really).  She was in excruciating pain immediately and we called the ambulance.  She had snapped her thigh bone in two.  Once again she was told the cancer had weakened the bone.  Mum never walked again.  She slowly succumb as the cancer spread to her brain.  She passed away after a long 32 year battle on the 8th of August 2004.

When as a family of 4 daughters we reflected on Mums journey we noted how much she had to push for recognition and treatment.  She would often tell her GP that she was concerned and was often told not to worry.  She struggled with the idea that she was perceived and a whiner, so sometimes it took time to have the diagnosis confirmed and treatment commenced.  Mum had radiation surgery and hormone treatment to deal with the cancer.

Mum was put on “Tamoxifen” each time she was diagnosed and was taken off it after a few years, which was the standard treatment protocol at the time.  We noticed that within months of the Tamoxifen being stopped Mum would begin to experience weird symptoms and begin to push for recognition from her Doctor.  The result was us as a group of daughters being petrified of both the disease and the treatment, as we helplessly watched our Mum get worse and worse.

Mum had one breast reconstructed and it was more like a butcher job than a reconstruction, poor love.  She had so many scars from the surgeries, drains, hip replacements, hysterectomy and other medical procedures over a life time of health battles.  She looked like a patchwork human,

When Mum was no longer able to live independently she moved in with my sister who lived closest to her.  It made practical sense at the time as the two lived in the same country town, with the rest of use living away in both Sydney and Adelaide.

We agreed as a family we would care for Mum at home as she dreaded the idea of being sent to and aged care facility.  We tried to share the burden amongst the 4 of us, but it really fell mostly on my second sister.  She is very similar in temperament to my lovely mum and the two of them clashed.  This was made more difficult as Mum got more unwell she became more frustrated and bitter.  Mum lived for more than a year with my sister.  This was such a hard time for everyone particularly Mum and my sister.

The more dependent Mum needed to be, the angrier she became and we were all subject to her wrath at times.  We all understood why she was so frustrated; she had been the carer of everyone for so long, it was how she showed her love.  She felt so useless and hated that she felt like a burden to her family.  When Mum passed it was incredibly heartbreaking on so many levels and also a relief as she suffered so much.  She died at my sisters home as she wished on the 8th of August 2004.

It was such a weird experience as she had been diagnosed with cancer so many times and fought it we didn’t think it would take her.  So when it finally did take her life we were all shell shocked.

Within a year my sister 49, who had cared for her found a lump in her breast while doing a self exam one day.  She had it checked out and it was also cancer – we could not believe it!  It too was hormone driven and she had a mastectomy.  She was recommended a similar regime to Mum.   However, my sister did not want to follow the same path as mum so with such courage she said “no” to chemotherapy, radiation and tamoxifen and she decided to treat her cancer through complimentary therapies and nutrition.

My sister struggled more than she let us know.  She was told by Doctors and fellow patients that she was crazy or stupid or reckless for not pursuing medical treatment.  She questioned her decision but knew in her soul that it was right for her.

About 18 months later precancerous changes were identified in her remaining breast.  She also struggle with the idea and fear that the cancer would come back, along with the unevenness of having only one breast that she had the other breast removed.   That was 9 years ago without a recurrence.  She has had a few slip ups with caring for herself, particularly when things get really stressful.  But she has done amazingly well.

In November last year through a screening mammogram I was also diagnosed with breast cancer, I was 41.  I had 2 tumours on my right breast that were also hormone driven.  During surgery it was found that the cancer had travelled to my lymph so chemotherapy was recommended.

Unlike my sister I decided to take a combined approach with both medicine and complimentary medicine.  With the full support of my entire family I too decided to have the second breast removed instead of waiting for my body to betray me.

One thing I have learned is that each person’s journey is so personal and individual.  It is impossible to know how you will respond to the diagnosis of cancer until you are in that seat and you are being told “you have cancer.”

In that moment your life changes forever, things get really clear and really simple in an instant.  You realise how much time you have wasted on the unimportant.

So my sincere intention is to share my experiences, what I have learned, what worked for me and what didn’t.  I cope with humour so beware, some of the things my husband and I have laughed at may shock you, but you wither laugh or cry hey?

So stay tuned, read my blogs as they are posted, stay well, laugh lots and live in the moment – after all it is all we have!

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