Welcome to my Breast Cancer Blog. 

Welcome to my Breast Cancer Blog. I was diagnosed in July 2012 (Friday 13th to be exact!) with stupid Breast Cancer. I was 43. Believe me, it was not in my life plan. But shit happens. Deal with it.

Anyway, I have been writing this blog to try and make sense of it all. I write it as my alterego "BC Girl". Rather like "Hitgirl". Sometimes it helps to pretend to be someone else. My superpowers are (1) Fangirling (2) Moaning (3) Drinking Wine and (4) Moaning. Epic. And, unlike in real life, as BC Girl, I am sweary and bloodyminded. Mostly positive, with a handful of doom and gloom chucked in - come on - we all love a bit of doom and gloom - isn't that what sells papers, after all? I also hope I can be as fiesty as Hitgirl.  I intend to fight this sucker with blasters, sub-machine guns, karate, cannons, tanks, laserbeams, nukes, flamethrowers and any other bloody thing I can lay my hands on! Also I shall throw in some comedy, irony, fangirling and music along the way, just for laughs. What harm can that do?

So this is my rambling blog, from a harrassed middle aged mum of two, with a long-suffering hubbie, trapped in the surreal world of Breast Cancer, with all the shit that brings (scans, chemo, operations, more scans, blah, blah, blah). I cannot promise words of wisdom. I cannot guarantee that any of this will make sense. But I can definitely assure you there will be LOTS OF MOANING about cancer crap! 

And there will also be copius amounts of  f a n g i r l i n g. 

You have been warned.

 
Welcome Visitors.

All views and opinions expressed in this blog are my own. I hope that my experience will help someone out there who is struggling with a similar diagnosis or having a hard time. I welcome your comments. But I am a positive kinda girl so no negativity please. It bums me out! Now we know where we stand, sit down with a cuppa and read on......

 

News

The Meeting After The Holiday When We Talk About Chemo

10/08/2012 14:35
We come back tanned and slimmed. But not relaxed. We did not bring back a present for the consultant. Sorry no Retsina or postcard for you! I meet my nice surgical consultant again. He has brown eyes and warm hands and a nice smile. I start to fangirl. I meet my oncologist too. He is brusque and professional.  Again I am asked to strip. This becomes a common theme. Stripping I mean.  They start to talk, one at a time. "You are quite small" Yes, I know this. I am size 8 /10 and petite, if you know what I mean. I make a joke "Yeah, I have always wanted to be bigger. You know - DD. " The joke did not go down well. Tumbleweeds rolling in. Silence. "OK" I think to myself "This is not the place for humour. Damn!" Then "The tumour is quite large. " Not good. Not good at all. "We are going to try and shrink it first". Now that's when I get weirded out. Perhaps the oncologist has a special machine - like a ray gun - that he is going to bring out of his pocket. Like a cowboy...

Relaying The Really Shitty News

23/07/2012 15:31
The worst moment of my life, apart from finding out I have cancer, is telling everyone I have cancer. Its not an easy thing to do. You just can't slip it into conversation. You know "Hi. Watcha up to?" " How was your holiday?" "What are your plans for next week?" "Well I have just been told I have cancer, my holiday bloody sucked and next week I start chemo!" Not a conversational ice breaker that one. But tell people I must. So luckily in the digital age I have various means at my disposal. I have mobile telecommunications devices, a bog standard telephone, email, Facebook and Twitter (but sorry no MySpace - never got into that one). I use all these things. What I really could have done with though was a great, big, barrage balloon, you know - like the Hindenberg airships, with a great big neon sign on it, flashing, saying "Emma has cancer. I repeat. Emma has cancer. Do not panic. This is not a drill."  Everyone is as upset as me. We all cry. The electronic devices...

The Meeting Before The Holiday

19/07/2012 14:17
We are going on holiday on Saturday. That is a definite. We have been saving for two years. Bloody cancer is not going to stop us (we hope!). First meeting with the consultant. He is nice. He is new. He gives me lots of infomation. More science stuff : "Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Grade 3. Stage 2. The mass is 2.3cm in size approximately. It is highly ER positive and PR positive. It is Her 2 neu negative." I get it. Its bad. In fact, its worse than bad. Its cancer. Shit, that sucks. My consultant has to examine me. Much poking and prodding, fumbling and intense concentrated looking at my left boob. Then "humphs" and writing down notes.   We say "We are going on holiday. In 2 days." He says "You can go. We will probably operate on you when you get back. In the meantime you have to take these. We will see you in @2 weeks to sort out your Treatment Plan." He gives me a prescription for Tamoxifen. I have heard of this somewhere. It flutters in the back recessess of my...

The Journey Begins

14/07/2012 13:56
A little tip for y'all out there. Try to avoid mammograms on Friday 13th. Of course, don't put your health at risk by not having one. That would not be a good idea. But if you can go on another day, do it. Friday 13th is not a good day for these types of things. Believe me. I've been there. The start of the shitstorm. Friday 13th July. A normal sunny day starts early with a referral for a mammogram. My GP was reluctant to refer me "You are too young for breast cancer. It is very rare in women your age. I am sure you have nothing to worry about. But we will just check - cross the I's and dot the T's. Belt and braces."  I have subsequently discovered young women, although at less risk, are still at risk of Breast Cancer. If in doubt - get it checked out! Anyway I digress. Lots of science stuff. A nurse performs the mammogram (which is ouch!). "Have a seat. It will be a half an hour wait for the results at least." Off I toddle to try and work the coffee machine. "Oh can...
All articles
<< 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5