Two steps forwards, one step back.......
Cancer is a funny old thing. Just when you feel you are getting somewhere you get a(nother) curved ball thrown at you.
Bertie the drain left us on Friday morning with relatively little fanfare. Removing him wasn't too bad. I was warned to expect a seroma (collection of fluid under my arm) and sure enough I have one. Keep reading for news of what they will be doing with that.
On Friday afternoon I met up with Claire, one of my oldest (in tenure alone!) and best friends. We felt like the walking wounded as she has recently damaged her leg and is sporting a rather attractive leg brace. We did however spend an afternoon reminiscing about our wilder days and generally catching up.
Saturday was lunch with a lovely group of ladies followed by a quiet evening. On Sunday we finally succumbed and took Briony to see The Greatest Showman at the cinema. Pretty much everyone we know has given it rave reviews (including all of Briony's classmates, so no peer pressure there then) and I have to say it was pretty good. Briony seems to have instantly committed all the songs to memory.
Tuesday (yesterday), as regular readers will know was another big day. Results day. Sadly Stephen had to go back to work this week, so was unable to join me for the appointment so I was flying solo. Stephen's parents, the long suffering Tony and Steph are my chauffeurs this week and would have been happy to come into the appointment with me, but for some reason I didn't feel this was quite right, so left them with a coffee in the consulting room coffee area. I felt relatively optimistic.
My surgeon got straight to the point. The biopsy results. There was a residual invasive tumour of 12mm removed and another much larger area (45mm) of something called DCIS (basically the earliest form of breast cancer still contained in the breast ducts). This was a bit of a shock as obviously the last MRI had shown a tumour size of 1mm. I didn't think to ask why the difference between the 2, but will the next time I see him. More disappointment was to follow. The biopsy results showed that unfortunately at one edge of the excision there was no clear margin (i.e. no area without the invasive tumour). This means that they can't be sure that they took all of the tumour out. Moving on to the lymph nodes, they took 16 out and 5 contained evidence of disease. There is no way to say how many did originally, but it was obviously more than the 3 they originally thought. However, there was no evidence of spread in the fatty tissue surrounding the lymph nodes. A glimmer of light.
So back to surgery I go. Tomorrow. They will re-open the wound made last week and take some more out around the edge that wasn't clear. I'm disappointed to say the least, as mentally I had already moved on to planning for radiotherapy and putting the surgery behind me. I was offered the option of refusing the surgery. Suffice it to say that both the surgeon and the secretary had thought that they had better prepare the paperwork as they knew I would want to go ahead with it. I'm grateful it is so quick. Logically I know it won't make any difference to the outcome, but psychologically, well, that's a whole different ball game. Whilst I am there they will also drain the seroma under my arm. This means the next dose of chemo will be delayed as this is also due tomorrow and they don't want to do both on the same day.
There was little point in seeing the oncologist in the evening as this appointment had been scheduled originally to put in the date for radiotherapy. As we hadn't met for a while, we jointly decided on a telephone conversation in lieu of a face to face appointment. This was the first time that we had spoken since the seemingly good news that it is a low likelihood of cancer in my lungs. As usual (and for those who know me this is no surprise), I had my list of questions prepared. They pretty much centred around how things might change from a treatment and prognosis point of view with the news around my lungs. I didn't get very far, as my oncologist wants to carry on treating with the assumption that it is still cancer in my lungs. This is again another shock and shook me as again my head was elsewhere.
I had to speak to the insurance company today to get the appropriate approvals and authorisations for tomorrow. The poor lady I was speaking to must have thought I was an absolute fruit loop. She put me on hold and when she came back I was in floods of tears. Unbeknownst to her, the hold music was the first dance from our wedding 10 years ago. Jack Johnson, Better when we're together. The words just took on a whole new meaning and I was also upset that that life without the fear of cancer that I knew then in one way or another is no longer possible. Only those who have experienced it will understand.
So all in all a low day on this rollercoaster of a journey.
The icing on the cake today was a Facebook reminder that it was 3 years since I lost a friend to cancer. It was my first and thankfully at that point my only experience of the disease in my own generation. My post was as follows: "Enjoy life. It's all too short for some. Make every day a day to remember somehow. Sleep well, Simon Humber x". I've decided to start taking my own advice. Today's memory for me was sneaking into Briony's room 10 minutes early and snuggling up in bed with her whilst she was just waking up. Her distinctive smell, the little smile as she woke and realised I was there and the way in which she snuggled up next to me and put her arms around me and her feet on my legs. Moments like that are made to treasure and remember and just live in the moment.
Tomorrow as they say is another day. To all of those with their own cancer journey my hat off to you. For those who continue to fight and battle the odds I'm there with you, shouting from the sidelines. Cancer may shape us, but it will never define us.
On Friday afternoon I met up with Claire, one of my oldest (in tenure alone!) and best friends. We felt like the walking wounded as she has recently damaged her leg and is sporting a rather attractive leg brace. We did however spend an afternoon reminiscing about our wilder days and generally catching up.
Saturday was lunch with a lovely group of ladies followed by a quiet evening. On Sunday we finally succumbed and took Briony to see The Greatest Showman at the cinema. Pretty much everyone we know has given it rave reviews (including all of Briony's classmates, so no peer pressure there then) and I have to say it was pretty good. Briony seems to have instantly committed all the songs to memory.
Tuesday (yesterday), as regular readers will know was another big day. Results day. Sadly Stephen had to go back to work this week, so was unable to join me for the appointment so I was flying solo. Stephen's parents, the long suffering Tony and Steph are my chauffeurs this week and would have been happy to come into the appointment with me, but for some reason I didn't feel this was quite right, so left them with a coffee in the consulting room coffee area. I felt relatively optimistic.
My surgeon got straight to the point. The biopsy results. There was a residual invasive tumour of 12mm removed and another much larger area (45mm) of something called DCIS (basically the earliest form of breast cancer still contained in the breast ducts). This was a bit of a shock as obviously the last MRI had shown a tumour size of 1mm. I didn't think to ask why the difference between the 2, but will the next time I see him. More disappointment was to follow. The biopsy results showed that unfortunately at one edge of the excision there was no clear margin (i.e. no area without the invasive tumour). This means that they can't be sure that they took all of the tumour out. Moving on to the lymph nodes, they took 16 out and 5 contained evidence of disease. There is no way to say how many did originally, but it was obviously more than the 3 they originally thought. However, there was no evidence of spread in the fatty tissue surrounding the lymph nodes. A glimmer of light.
So back to surgery I go. Tomorrow. They will re-open the wound made last week and take some more out around the edge that wasn't clear. I'm disappointed to say the least, as mentally I had already moved on to planning for radiotherapy and putting the surgery behind me. I was offered the option of refusing the surgery. Suffice it to say that both the surgeon and the secretary had thought that they had better prepare the paperwork as they knew I would want to go ahead with it. I'm grateful it is so quick. Logically I know it won't make any difference to the outcome, but psychologically, well, that's a whole different ball game. Whilst I am there they will also drain the seroma under my arm. This means the next dose of chemo will be delayed as this is also due tomorrow and they don't want to do both on the same day.
There was little point in seeing the oncologist in the evening as this appointment had been scheduled originally to put in the date for radiotherapy. As we hadn't met for a while, we jointly decided on a telephone conversation in lieu of a face to face appointment. This was the first time that we had spoken since the seemingly good news that it is a low likelihood of cancer in my lungs. As usual (and for those who know me this is no surprise), I had my list of questions prepared. They pretty much centred around how things might change from a treatment and prognosis point of view with the news around my lungs. I didn't get very far, as my oncologist wants to carry on treating with the assumption that it is still cancer in my lungs. This is again another shock and shook me as again my head was elsewhere.
I had to speak to the insurance company today to get the appropriate approvals and authorisations for tomorrow. The poor lady I was speaking to must have thought I was an absolute fruit loop. She put me on hold and when she came back I was in floods of tears. Unbeknownst to her, the hold music was the first dance from our wedding 10 years ago. Jack Johnson, Better when we're together. The words just took on a whole new meaning and I was also upset that that life without the fear of cancer that I knew then in one way or another is no longer possible. Only those who have experienced it will understand.
So all in all a low day on this rollercoaster of a journey.
The icing on the cake today was a Facebook reminder that it was 3 years since I lost a friend to cancer. It was my first and thankfully at that point my only experience of the disease in my own generation. My post was as follows: "Enjoy life. It's all too short for some. Make every day a day to remember somehow. Sleep well, Simon Humber x". I've decided to start taking my own advice. Today's memory for me was sneaking into Briony's room 10 minutes early and snuggling up in bed with her whilst she was just waking up. Her distinctive smell, the little smile as she woke and realised I was there and the way in which she snuggled up next to me and put her arms around me and her feet on my legs. Moments like that are made to treasure and remember and just live in the moment.
Tomorrow as they say is another day. To all of those with their own cancer journey my hat off to you. For those who continue to fight and battle the odds I'm there with you, shouting from the sidelines. Cancer may shape us, but it will never define us.
You need more pies. :-)
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