Fuckety fuck fuck

I must have a 7 year itch as it has been 7 years now since I've felt the need to share anything on a blog (Briony), but I'm pleased to report that Briony is fab!

Sadly I have an unwelcome visitor in the guise of breast cancer. This vile little bugger has decided to take up residence chez Chaffin, completely uninvited and somewhat unexpectedly. How rude! It was rumoured to have been squatting a week or so ago and sadly on Thursday residency was confirmed. We're currently unsure as to what stage I have - further tests are required for that. What we do know is that it's aggressive and hormonal. Is this somewhat like the age old adage of dogs having similar personalities to their owners (only joking)?!

So let me explain the Bognor or bust. We have booked a holiday with our great friends to celebrate Richard's 50th Birthday in July next year. It's kind of a surprise, he knows we are going away but doesn't know where, so no spoilers here. So the ever suffering Stephen changed our lightbox to the picture attached prior to this all happening in a kind of "Vegas or bust" theme. The morning of "results day" I walked downstairs and suddenly the lightbox took on a whole new meaning. Made me smile as Stephen so very often does. So Bognor or bust it is. Which one will win?

Personally, the smart money should be on me. Speaking with my Dad earlier on in the week when I admit I was a little low, he remarked that I had always fought for everything in my life. I was born premature and had to fight then, I fought my way through school (I wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer), through university and then both Stephen and I fought for Briony. So whilst it may not always feel like it, fight this I will. I will not allow it to define me.

So what happened? I went for a run at lunch time at work in Regent's Park and along the canals. It was lovely. Got back, had a shower and then noticed something. Went to the GP the next day, referral for the following week. Fast forward a week and after several mammograms (I figured something was wrong when they called me back in for the second time), an ultrasound and ~7 biopsies including lymph nodes, insertion of a titanium marker (I had the titanium song ringing in my ears at this point, seriously not funny) and a surgeon prodding and poking me I was told to prepare for the worst. Not ideal. 6 days later and it was confirmed. Breast cancer, at least stage 2. It had been a horrible week, we'd barely slept and in my head I wasn't making it to Christmas. I'd also had a CT scan in that time to see if it had spread. Luckily my liver and most of my other major organs seem to be clear. There are some suspect nodules in my lungs that need some further investigation. The joy of that is still to come. The other biggy is the bone scan on Thursday of this week. Christmas however does seem to still be on!

I've had many different reactions to my news. But please, no pity parties. I may have cancer, but I'm not ill. I'm still determined (and allowed currently) to run the Milton Keynes half marathon in a couple of weeks time. I've been training quite hard for it you see. I missed it 2 years ago as I had an injury and was determined to run it this year. Stephen thinks this is the world's most elaborate hoax for me to get out of it again. If only! So run it I will. Probably slowly. The best reactions have been (you know who you are and the identities of the innocent have been protected):

• Fuckety fuck fuck (2 people have said this) 
• That's a shame as you've got a cracking pair of breasts! 

The purpose of this blog is two-fold. Firstly, to keep everyone up to date. I'm lucky enough to have a wide circle of friends and family, all of whom are incredibly supportive, but it's very difficult and tiring updating everyone and quite frankly I can't remember who I have told what, so hopefully this will keep everyone informed. Secondly, it's kinda therapy for me just writing it and let's face it, it's cheaper than the hourly rate for counselling.......

So what happens next? I have to admit that the waiting is the hardest part and I now cannot wait to pump poison into my body and get this thing started. Next appointment is on Tuesday and bone scan on Thursday, MRI on Friday. They won't give me the results at the time, so yet more tedious and soul destroying waiting. But actually, that only seems to impact my prognosis, not what needs to happen first off, so perhaps it is better if we don't know. So far, it's looking like chemo first to shrink the tumour (it's quite large), probably 18 weeks worth, then surgery, then some radiotherapy for good measure. So we're in for the long haul.

There are some good things about this and things that are making me smile. I managed to completely shock the receptionist at the GP surgery earlier on in the week when I went to have my flu and pneumonia vaccine (these now go with the territory). She was implying that she didn't think I fitted into any of the exemption categories. As ever, I tackled it head on and said that I had been diagnosed with breast cancer the previous day so was fairly sure I did. She was mortified! I also had a trip to the emergency GP last night for some biopsy related issues. He said that at least it was "the good type of breast cancer" and "Is there anything else wrong with you?". No, I thought breast cancer was sufficient! I may keep a note of all of these and write some dark humour book at some point. 

Needless to say the hardest part has been telling Briony. How do you tell a 7 year old girl? The Macmillian team have been great and given us some good books to explain it to her. We told her yesterday and she took it remarkably well. We took her to the local woods (apparently best not to do it at home) and gently explained it. On the way back she started talking about how there were some good things about cancer. A) Mummy being at home for supper and breakfast a little more B) Daddy not having to unblock the shower plughole quite so often (my hair will shortly be departing). Many could take a leaf from her book with her amazingly positive attitude.
Finally, if you don't like my style of writing then I don't want to know and you have a choice on whether you read it or not! See some of this is intensely liberating!