Yes-yes, can you believe it, I’ve finally managed to post an entry on the blog! Ha, this blog is so sporadically updated isn’t it, I just hope the dearest readers don’t give up on me!
So, some of you (if any!) might be wondering how I’m doing with my breast cancer. The last time I wrote about it was back in January before the radiotherapy. Well, I did the radiotherapy everyday (with a rest at weekends) for four weeks. It sounds pretty full-on, but actually, each treatment was only a mere thirty seconds long (… and it wasn’t a zapping beam like in the Bond movies!). The reason for such short treatment being, the full dose of radiation is given in fractions. Radiotherapy is about damaging the DNA of the cancer cells to cause it to die, but inevitably the surrounding healthy tissue is exposed and gets a whacking too, so it’s best to spread out the killer bursts, allowing for your healthy cells to recover.
The actual beaming may be short, but of course it takes ten or so minutes for the radiographer to position me accurately on the table. Ah, talking of accuracy, to do so, they tattooed two pinprick size dots on my chest! MY FIRST TAT Y’ALL! Lol, I’ve always fancied a tattoo, but who knew I’d be getting one in such an un-rock n’ roll situation! Oh well, despite the un-hipness, nevertheless I was excited and jolly as they did it, I mean c’mon, it was the highlight of my hospital visits, ANYTHING is better after experiencing the ghastly chemotherapy and the cold-cap.
The chemotherapy…, the chemotherapy. Where do I start on how to tell you about this one.
Y’know, at the time, I was acting all brave and strong and as normal as I can be, because that’s the defence mechanism in me. And there’s everyone around me commenting “You’re managing so well!” and “You’re looking great!”. But looking back? I can tell you that it really was the shittiest time of my life (oops sorry, excuse the language!). Crappiest. Really. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemies! (well, I don’t have an enemy but just saying!)
Of course I could have made my life much easier by opting out of cold-capping, because that probably equated for half of the problem. Cold cap is basically a headgear that you put on pre, during and after your chemotherapy, which freezes your scalp in the hope of keeping your hair. Logic being that the poisonous drug won’t reach the hair follicles if it’s frozen. Like I say, that’s the logic anyway (because I still lost a lot of hair).
Traumatic? Yes. Painful? Oh yes, terribly. Endurable? Barely yes, but only because I have children who I was adamant not to upset any further. If it were not for trying to look ‘Normal’ for them, I would have torn off the mf-ing cap off my head in a speed never before seen by mankind. But with the cold-capping, I managed to keep ‘some’ hair, mostly on the sides, so when I put a hat on and have hair showing on the sides, people never suspected!
But for the children, it’s bad enough that their mum has cancer, right? Suddenly their steady, happy and ordinary everyday life gets hit by this bombshell of a news! Obviously we involved them wherever we can, filled them in on what’s happening because “not knowing” brings unnecessary fear. Without sounding scary, we told them, “it’s just taking the lump out and making sure it never comes back again with some medicine!”, which, in a nutshell, is all it is.
Perhaps it comes with the job of being a mother, but I worried. I worried what effect this would have on them. Being mindful for their mental state was a paramount issue for me, even though my own mental state was all over the shop. Actually even more so because I was suffering, that I didn’t want to drag them down too. We lay a stable ground for them as much as we can and of course always tried to be the chirpy mum in front of them but my eyes were often puffed up. And seeing people around us always asking about your mum’s health brings home the seriousness perhaps.
I felt that it was important to stamp out any problems before it happens, so quite earlier on in all of this, I sent two group emails asking for help. One was to my son’s friends parents. The other was to all the girl’s parents in my daughter’s class. If you want, you can read one of them through this link, which will open another page from my website.
Despite my worries, the children certainly stood up to the challenge:
Unbeknown to me, our teenage son put a picture of a woman with bald head plugged into chemo on his Instagram account, with the words: “I’ll delete this picture when she’s done fighting it”. My gosh, you can just imagine how it squeezed my heart when I found out! – The other week though, I noticed that the picture was gone. I asked him what happened and why, to which he replied, “Well, you’re better now aren’t you!”. – I will do anything for this boy.
And then our daughter brought out the maternal quality in droves with this experience. If I nodded off while reading a book or something like that, or at times even during play with her, she’d attentively put a blanket over me and then ever so slowly walk out of the room, careful not to make a squeak. I noticed her doing this before proper sleep got hold of me and I was deeply moved and so grateful that she is my daughter.
Although, sometimes she treats me like an injured pony or a kitty! Lol! Her recent ‘thing’ is to stroke my short hair back and forth, like petting an animal. I understand her fascination though, the hair that grew from baldness does feel especially soft and nice like animal fur! – A friend of mine described my daughter as having an ‘old soul’, that she seems to understand the world around her. Well, I do think she has a developed sense of empathy. Do you believe in past lives? I do, and I sometimes feel that we were also mother and child, but in reversal, me the child. That’s what I feel when she envelopes me. – I will do anything for this girl too.
My children’s friends and their mums stood up to the challenge too!
I was told by my son’s friend’s mum that his group of friends have a gentleman’s agreement that they won’t ask about my health unless my son mentions it. Thirteen year old boys and their pact! Bless ’em. :-)
And my daughter’s friends mums! I received so much emotional support. For example, as soon as the email was sent, they organised a get together for me. It was exactly what I needed, not to be a sorry-case at home, but having a laugh in the pub! They brought around food and flowers from time to time too. And we went for numerous coffees and lunches! It sure made a difference knowing that I had them to fall back on.
And Mr.D… Shall I tell you? It was on his birthday, 28th June, that I was diagnosed…! Poor guy, what a shocker it must’ve been, and what a horrible present it was! I’m so sorry that it had to be that day. But of course he has been a rock and a shoulder to cry on. I guess he had the short end of the stick than any other because not only did he had to process this news and deal with my bouts of negativity, he had to look after the family but also go to work throughout the time!
Now with the benefit of hindsight, I asked them how they felt at the time and my family all say they were not scared. I think we came through this alright! Thank God for that! Life is almost back to normal now, I just need to go back for treatment once every three weeks for the rest of this year, and take oral medicine for the next five years.
I sometimes have bouts of fear. Like a heart attack it suddenly comes unannounced. I worry that the cancer might come back again. And that the next time will not be so lucky. And I still grieve the loss of the work I loved doing too and I feel slightly lost. But that thought gets disrupted soon enough with the children that need my attention and I am ever so grateful for that.
Ps: some of you might have realised that the website has been updated? Yup! It has! Now, it is mobile-responsive, and with the bonus of a ‘Recipes’ page where you can now access my recipes much easily. I have also recently started Instagram! There you’ll find me posting stuff much more frequently than on the blog, so please check it out~! ;-)