What’s The Halfway Point?

It actually took me over two weeks to get better following the biopsies and chemo. So in the end I only had one ‘good’ week this cycle! 🙄 During those two weeks James turned double digits! We now have a 10 year old! I remember when I had him in Abu Dhabi, it was my 40th birthday and I had always said I would climb Mount Kilimanjaro for my 40th! Instead I was strapped to a hospital bed pushing an angry red rugby ball out my floo in 50 degree heat! Fast forward 10 years and I’m strapped to a IV pole trying to shrink a lump the size of a baseball. I’m too scared to plan my 60th !🤣

A dear friend offered us her house in Folkestone for James’ birthday weekend. In reality I was not well enough to stay over night but we spent the day running round fields and beaches wearing the kids, dog and me out! We set a fire pit up on the beach in the evening and James braved the freezing sea for a dip…. well a paddle, he is 10, not stupid! All in all it was a lovely day and James told me as I dropped him to school on Monday morning “thanks for the best birthday ever Mum!” 😍 This made my week as I worry so much that this bloody cancer is affecting them deeply. James tells me at least 50 times a day that he loves me, Jess then feels she should say it too so I spend my days saying “Do you have your PE kit? I love you too!” Or “I love you too, did you make your bed?”

The Oncologist rung me a week after the biopsy, “How are you?” “Oh you know, traumatised, in soul crunching agony, black and blue with an egg shaped haematoma jutting out the side. how are you?” “Er, em ok thanks!” “Good.” “We have the results of your last biopsy, this is benign.” I slumped inwardly. “What does this mean for me now?” I worried that they would now not remove this ‘healthy’ breast leaving me to a future of ‘fake cancer scares’ every time I felt a lump, bump, ache or pain. “We have discussed your case and decided that you are considered high risk for this cancer returning so we would recommend a double mastectomy . How do you feel about this?” Relief was flooding through me like chemo, but without the nausea. “I just want them off me!” I said in an overly excited voice. The oncologist laughed and said that they generally have to explain their decision to patients and allow them time to digest the information. I seemed to have made my decision already! I had actually made this decision back in March when a Consultant told me to expect the worst.
So 5 or 6, I’ve lost count? Painful Procedures later and I am now considered high risk, so the double mastectomy is going ahead in September. (Leaving me to wonder why I was put through that amount of trauma? Then guilty as hey, at least they cared enough to be diligent.)

During all this I’m still teaching and had a couple of customers go through their tests. Because of stoopid COVID the test centre waiting rooms aren’t open, meaning I have to sit outside for 45 minutes. Because I am feeling exhausted all the time, I decided to take my own stool to sit on, I pulled it out of the boot with layers of clothing (we all know this weather is having a mental breakdown at the moment.) I had my ear phones and a drink. The examiner approached the car and said “we are not going on holiday, it’s just a test!” I laughed and said “look around, every instructor is so jealous of me right now!” I then spent the next 45 minutes sat wrapped up, listening to my audible. God I love my audible app. On the 13th of every month I get my free book. It spend days researching and reviewing. Then spend the next week or so grabbing any free moment to try to catch a chapter! ‘It’s ok I’ll walk the dog, do the shopping, drive the long way to a customers house!’ I’m still wearing my wigs during lessons. When I get home I race up the stairs and grab a hat, whipping the cap, double-sided sticky tape and wig of the day off, flinging them into a drawer…. Woody still haunts the top floor in hope of a snaffle of Rosie or Penelope! James hates the wigs and prefers me in hats, Jess loves the wigs and likes to choose which one I should wear. Not that I have much of a choice, Ringo is, well Ringo, Penelope or Rosie. I am enrolled on a scarf wrapping course. Fuck me I actually just wrote that and had to stop to laugh. Yes I am attending a course on how to tie a scarf round my bloody head. Wow I never saw this coming.

Round 4 of the chemo train arrived way too quickly. I had two appointments scheduled that day, 9:30 was 2.5hours chemo and at 4:40 I was to receive a telephone call from my oncologist. I got to Barts bang on 9:30 and rode up in the lift with a lady I was 99% sure was Jo Brand until we got to the COVID guard dogs and she gave her name. I went into the reception area and approached the receptionist, “Morning! Gill for my spa day. No I’m only joking it’s chemo.” She didn’t look amused. I took my seat and looked around the room. I was struck by the number of women sporting the Fryer Tuck look. They wore bandana scarves round their hairline but at the back were large bald spots with tufts of hair jutting out at different lengths. This wasn’t one woman. This was 3! I was amazed at their confidence. They were so….. comfortable, relaxed, unaffected. I wish I could feel this way. Of everything I have gone through since this all started, it’s still, sadly, my hair that affects me the most. I am unable to look at myself without a wig or hat on, even now. I feel ugly, old and diseased when I catch site of myself accidentally. These women couldn’t give a hoot. Good on them, shame on me.

I sat waiting for about 20 minutes when a nurse approached me, “Gillian?” “Yes” (ish it’s Gill but I won’t go on!) “I’m sorry but we cannot give you the chemo until you speak with the oncologist.” “But that appointment isn’t until 4:40!” I exclaimed in confusion. “Yes we have asked the oncologist to call you ASAP and then we can begin the chemo. Please go and wait in Maggie’s, it is more comfortable, the oncologist will call you.” I left and headed to Maggie’s, wondering how come every time I came here there was some kind of debacle? Maggie’s is the charity that has beautiful, architecturally built spaces within the hospital grounds, allowing you to step away from treatment and find respite. Comfy squashy chairs, free WiFi, tea and coffee with friendly staff ready to listen and support. I sat down, spilled the contents of my trusty roll-along across the table and settled in for the wait. My stomach began to rumble at some point which lead to me checking my watch. It was 12 O’Clock! I still had had no call and was still waiting for 2.5 hours of chemo to be pumped in. I rung the ward and asked what was happening? “Oh! The oncologist has been and gone now.” “WHAT?” I screeched down the phone! “You told me they would call me and sent me to Maggie’s, where I have been sat waiting.!” The receptionist stuttered and told me she would find out what was going on and call me straight back. When she called she told me to go straight to the oncologist office and she would see me. I gathered up my contents and rushed over to the offices, calling out a grateful “Thank you! Bye bye!” To the Maggie’s staff. I then sat in a stiff wooden,I socially distance chair for 2 more hours until the lady oncologist Steve and I had met a long time ago in this fiasco, called my name. By now I had approached the receptionist’s desk twice asking what was happening, had taught myself to tutt loudly and was checking my watch every 3 minutes. I was fuming! I let rip at the oncologist when she said sorry for the wait! “Sorry for the wait?” I steamed! “I’ve been here since 9:30!” To her credit, she spun round and stopped in front of me, “what? I was told you got here at 12?” I explained in a strangled voice, barely off shouting, what I had endured so far (leaving out the squishy chair and free WiFi!) she allowed me to vent and then was very apologetic, describing the ongoing problems the hospital departments were having with the scheduling department. I was calmed and jollied into a better mood. Ooo she was good! I then trotted back to where I had started for the chemo. As I walked into the reception the canteen lady was pushing her sad, empty trolley out of the doors. I stopped her and begged for a sandwich. At first she looked protective, a little worried that I was trying to trick her out of a cheese roll. I must have looked pathetic enough to pass her test as a few minutes later 2 tuna sandwiches and a yogurt landed on my tray! Gawd bless her! And so finally the 4th round of chemo was administered. This is my half way mark. I am to have 4 more chemo’s (this time a different drug) leading up to the operation in September. Half way feels good. Soon I will have more behind me than ahead. Soon I’ll have the new boobies Jess keeps enquiring about. Soon my head will be sprouting tufts of hair! Soon this will be over. 🤞🏻I finally called an Uber and crawled out of Barts at 5:30. 8 hours after I had arrived. I climbed into the cab and said to the unexpectant driver, “get me the fuck out of here!” He laughed and pulled away from the kerb, straight into rush hour traffic. I could have cared less, as least I was out!

And here I sit on Thursday of chemo week, with the black hole opening up in front of me, I feel the tendrils of a headache, the fatigue creeping over me like a blanket, I’m aware there is movement around me I just can’t seem to grasp it, to interact. I will fall down this hole and hopefully climb out again on Saturday as we have another birthday to celebrate. Like I have said before ‘Shit don’t stop for cancer!’ See you on the other side!