tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018144961820130812024-03-04T23:55:19.824-08:00Diary of a hopeful womanWendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-66304142156597556242014-03-26T08:28:00.001-07:002014-03-26T09:16:17.910-07:00Where I get all philosophical...........Most of you are aware that I haven't written - again - for sometime but hey ho time goes on and you get caught up in -well life, I suppose. So I gave it a tremendous amount of thought before I decided to put fingers to keyboard - so to speak. <br />
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When I started this blog I did so because it helped me to write down my feelings, feelings of frustration of how much more can I take? Why me? Most importantly, how the bloody hell am I going to get through this little lot? That was in November 2012.<br />
I decided that I would get through it all with lots of love and laughter ( not everyday you understand, some days I felt damn well sorry for myself) however it never occurred to me to sit down and think of doing it any other way. That's just the way I'm made I suppose. <br />
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If I pause for breath and think about it some more, there are a quite a few difference ways to get through cancer. Oops there it is again that word, yet that word has helped me realise what I really want out of life. No biggie here but it's helped me redefine my goals and dreams, sometimes they're a bit cloudy other days I think will they really happen? Yet they tend to remain the same.<br />
The biggest one being - get paid what you are worth and don't accept anything less.<br />
The second one is - take time to see all the wonderful things around you. <br />
Third is - don't worry about what hasn't happened yet.<br />
Lastly and most importantly, we don't control what happens in life but we can control how we choose to cope. <br />
It's fair to say that some people get dealt a better hand than others, I am one of those people that didn't get the best hand - but before you go all moral on me. I am truly grateful for the hand I have been dealt. It's meant that everything wonderful that has happened has all been because of me and my hard work and for that I am truly proud of myself. I earned it. ( High 5 Wendie - oh yessss! )<br />
I always knew these things, but was never completely accepting of them. I was always too nice, or too soft or too scared. Now I think what's the worst that can happen?<br />
I'm sure stuff will come along and I will revert to type - for a while anyway, then I will get my head out of my arse and march on, setting goals, pushing myself, living my life the best way I possibly can, not giving up. Yes, of course I will procrastinate - so what? Sometimes when you don't fulfil you're dreams and goals it doesn't mean you have to stop dreaming and setting more. Take for instance my life in 2012, I was happily self employed working hard and running up and down the motorway for little or no monetary reward - now I've decided to work on that. No longer am I happy with not getting paid what I'm worth.<br />
So, I've taken all the experience I have, what I've gained - through all the careers I've ever had and of course life experiences - and I'm switching careers. I've set my sights high, yet I've been told not high enough, but slowly, slowwwwly...I can work towards that - another goal! <br />
When my Dad died 3 months ago he left me a little bit of money, I wanted to honour his memory and I thought he would be pleased, so I have invested it in planning my future. <br />
I've revamped my CV, revamped the way I look at how to achieve the job that I want. Hired a project manager and although this was going along nicely, I was getting somewhere and my confidence was picking up, then... in the middle of all this my operation came up for my breast reconstruction..... it was much earlier than anticipated.<br />
All the hard work I put into achieving the dream job has been put on the back burner and whilst I was recovering, I felt sorry for myself. Again doubt crept in... however...<br />
I realised that the goal posts may have been moved a tad, but my goals are still the same. I can still achieve what I want, so what if it takes a little longer? So what if I decide to move my own goal posts along the way? I will never give up. <br />
Yes money is in short supply in our household as Andrew is the only breadwinner, but he is successfully carving his career and for that I am extremely happy. Yet every day I still feel the guilt, I've always earned my own money and asking him for some- is still painful. However, he is my husband and I would do exactly the same for him, if need be. <br />
Yes I will need a further operation and yes I will always be a tiny bit scared that cancer will enter my life again, but I decided long ago on this journey, that I cannot and will not let it hold me back. Cancer does not define me. <br />
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Looking at what we have and what we have achieved in life gives me a buzz every day. From the view outside of the window to realising that the world we live in is beautiful. When I worked for the NHS quite a few people on my team were discontented with what our country had to offer, I didn't understand them then and I now amplify that more then ever. <br />
There is so much good out there, so many beautiful people and places. Things that happen in this country generally make me smile and immensely proud of who I am and where I was born.<br />
Watching the daffodils blooming is a miracle, watching Sports relief, people raising money and coming to people's aid. Wow! it blows my mind - and yes there will always be the negative side of everything but - that's life and we have to accept that not everyone shares the same views. <br />
There will always be the moaners, the morons and the damn right miserable buggers. Again that's their choice. <br />
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When I was young I wanted to change the world, it took me years of growing up to realise this was never going to happen. I wasn't disappointed - frustrated a bit maybe, but - and as I teach my children. Always be nice to people, especially the miserable ones, after all your smile and your kind words may make their day. Always be mindful of others feelings and yes sometimes I can be as blunt as a spoon - but I am learning. <br />
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I am trying hard not to worry about things that may happen, I have learnt a new mantra, "what's the worst that can happen". I've had to push myself out of my comfort zone and believe me I like it in there. I've had to make myself do things that I know I can do, but never had the confidence to carry them out and most of all I've had to stop worrying about the maybes and the what ifs. <br />
Quite frankly they have never really been as bad as I have anticipated. The amount of time I've thought what if this happens, what if that happens, the sleepless nights etc, and if it does, well then you are never prepared for it anyway. So you have to get your head round it and deal with it. There's no other way, and as previously mentioned I tend to laugh my way through anything bad that happens. After all I have looked death in the face twice now and I'm still here. <br />
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Control - do we always have control? - maybe not, but we have choices, we always have choices. Do we give up or do we carry on believing in ourselves? Do we put our faith and trust in others, or do we become too scared to move? So many choices. Personally I believe that whatever choice we make in life we learn from it and we grow from it. We may not understand people's choices but we should be respectful of their reasons for making it. Remember they are not you.<br />
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You may be asking yourselves why has she written all this philosophical babble... well its just me coming to terms with how wonderful my life is, how my choices and journeys have been full of wrong turns, wrong choices and no immediate lights at the end of tunnels, but I muddled through, as one has too, it doesn't make me an inspirational person, but it makes me human and a very humbled and thankful one at that. Now that's what defines me...... <br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-615926461854568602013-12-30T06:41:00.000-08:002013-12-30T06:41:41.416-08:00Out with the old and in with the new?2013 was definitely a strange year. Albeit it is now Christmas time and disasters always happen before and during it. Someone dies, someone has an accident and in amongst all that, there is always a baby born. Or you hear of someone pregnant and life doesn't seem so bad. <br />
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This Christmas my Dad died. So it was closer to home. As I sit here and type, I can say I have good days and bad days. Sometimes I walk around smiling as I take another trip down memory lane. Other times the pain seems unbearable but I have to remind myself that he is no longer struggling and in pain -and I do not wish him back. Still, I am angry that I have nothing and no one to blame for him being taken away from us. He was 80 years old, we expected him to live for ever. I stupidly thought he would get better and be there with all the family at Christmas. <br />
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The weeks leading up to his death were excruciating to watch. The day he died was so unexpected we thought he had a little longer. Yet sitting at the hospital afterwards and in amongst our grief our family still managed to crack jokes about his funny ways. Everyone said what a lovely man he was. Even the nurses cried and said what a lovely gentleman he was. <br />
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On Saturday we finally finished clearing the rest of his house out and the keys went back today. Its funny how you find out so much about your father when you clear out his stuff. Bibles and birth/death certificates, cards and notes, photos and discharge papers. He kept everything that reminded him of his family. He knew that his time was coming to an end. He had written Christmas cards to us, and left little messages all over the house. <br />
He had lived there since 1945 with his parents, my sister and I grew up there and my sister's girls grew up there. 4 generations spanned. So it was with a sad heart I said goodbye with its memories and its secrets. However as I closed the door for the last time, I felt that he was no longer there, that he had moved on. <br />
We took home lots of his belongings, but tons went to lots of different charity shops, some we sold, but a lot we binned. It was very painful - not a lot for 80 years of life. Even though we have tons of pictures that he took of us playing in the garden as children, our children playing in the garden and loads of fantastic memories. We cannot ask for anything more.<br />
He travelled the world in his time and even though we have the photos, he took all those wonderful memories with him. <br />
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" I can't wait to see the back of this year", I hear people say, well I don't think that, I remember everyone saying the same thing last year. I didn't think it then either. Every year has its ups and downs and we have to roll with them. Yes I had cancer treatment, yes my Dad died, but do you know what I have a whole bunch of great memories from this year as well, same as last year. Saying goodbye to 2013 is not going to make our life's infinity better, there will always be good times and bad times. Its called life. We just have to get through the bad stuff and appreciate the good. <br />
For instance in amongst my grief, my hair has grown back and I have had it coloured blonde. I have lost 19 pounds ( although I might have put a few of those back on in the last week or so) we had a brilliant Christmas day with all the family. Even though Dad wasn't there we weren't sad we just made the most of all being together. There is so much to be thankful for this year, a warm summer, a new royal baby, our friends getting married and now they are expecting a baby. My children achieving wonderful things, my husband's business growing from strength to strength. Wonderful holidays. Great times with friends and family on and on are my memories of this year. The good far outweighed the bad. <br />
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New years resolutions - or as I like to put it - goals. Well basically get a decent job, stay positive and stay healthy. Oh and not forgetting, a new pair of breasts. I had my mammogram the day after my Dad's cremation and I was told I would get my results last week at the latest. Well I haven't rang for them as I feel sure they are clear. I asked my Dad to say a little pray and as he was a deeply religious man I know he will pray and look after me, so I am not worried. I have an appointment with my plastic surgeon this Friday so I'm hoping I'll get a date to have my new boobs fitted and this bloody air bag thingy taken out of my chest. I am sure once it is removed I will weigh less! It is like having a brick stuck on your chest. I've had it there for over a year now. If you remember it was over inflated back in the summer to stretch the skin so that I get a natural droop. It is still blooming massive, my real boob looks like a little sausage roll in comparison - poor thing. <br />
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Still by the time my friends wedding in Cyprus comes in August I will have a great pair of knockers my hair will be longer and I will be super slim and slinky again. <br />
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So whatever the year is 2013, 2014 its about how you live it and its not to be wished away. 31st December and 1st January are just days. We are all on a journey and how we travel it makes the different. Not the date. <br />
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Happy New Year lovely people and remember everything happens for a reason and makes us who we are, and I kind of like who I am ............. Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-10330600593343549802013-09-25T08:04:00.000-07:002013-09-25T08:04:19.658-07:00Confused.com<div class="MsoNormal">
I have been asked over and over again to write another blog.
The reason I haven't written for a while is that life is slowly getting back to
normal and I didn't want to bore readers with the humdrum of my life. But
hey ho it seems I still have a lot to say.</div>
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At the moment my life is pretty quiet. I have decided to
close down my business and go back into the world of general employment. Now,
this may be a big decision and it may be the wrong one, but at the moment it is
the ONLY decision I can make on my future. Nothing has come to me, no great
ideas, no real need to get out into the world and set it on fire, no wonderful
creative dream – career wise that I would like to fulfil. Quite frankly, I am
worried as my whole life up to now has been – a real urge to do something, to research it train for it and then I have moved into that path. I have followed my career dreams and done
everything I've ever wanted to do – or have I? When people ask me what do you really want to do, what is your dream? I no longer have an answer.This is my dilemma.</div>
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Meanwhile, I am taking my time and redecorating the
house, not that it needs it, I have ripped down wallpaper that has not long
been hung, I’ve painted walls that I are barely dry – oh and I have sold all
our furniture. </div>
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I have been waxing, scrapping, painting and pasting whilst
walking round in a pair of paint dribbled tracksuit bottoms ( yes me!) and no
wig, it’s terribly liberating. I have even begun to open the door to people
without a wig on and I watch their face’s as they wonder.</div>
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Today for example we lent a tea urn to someone who is
doing a Macmillan morning this Saturday. I wasn't expecting anyone but when I
opened the door to the lady's’ husband he just looked at me. I could see his
think bubble, I could see him going home and telling his wife that I probably had
cancer, and do you know – it didn't bother me. However going out of the house
is a different matter.</div>
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Anyway, I've
decided that my wardrobe will be next, so the charity shop will have a good
day, as shoes, boots and dresses are on the way out. Also I have gone back to
slimming world and in one week I lost 5 pounds - so hopefully what I do keep clothes-wise will fit me again. However, another dilemma -I cannot even decide how much weight I want to
lose. For someone that has spent their whole life being too thin, the last few
years have been a real struggle, what with the over/under active thyroid,
giving up smoking, age and now cancer tablets for the next 5 years, it’s been
really hard to keep my weight stable – but I am determined to get back down to
a weight that I am happy with. What that is, I have no idea. </div>
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Back to my hair, it's now a mixture of brown, blonde and grey and it’s curly! I haven't known what
my colour is for over thirty years and now it’s grown back grey and curly! Also, I've been
told by my oncologist that I’m unable to dye it no matter what, not even with
any special chemical free colours. So I've decided that I'll have it done
for my birthday in November. I'll have
it coloured and cut into a style that hopefully I can grow in time for next
August and September, as this is when I'm going to be Matron of Honour for two of my
wonderful friends. As I write this I have a little teary moment just thinking about it.
Something else that I thought I would never do was to see these friends married and settled.</div>
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If you remember I
wanted to go to Ibiza for our dear friends' wedding. When I last blogged I was
in the middle of radiotherapy when they jetted out. So I was unable to go.
However our friends that are getting married in August are getting married in Cyprus
and we have already booked to go! So for both weddings I want to be slim and
blonde and back to the old me – not to overshadow the beautiful brides but to just look good in their wedding photos.</div>
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I question myself every day as to what my future holds
and there I draw a blank – at the
moment I am living in the here and now, and it worries me. It worries me that I
am in no rush to go back to work or to forecast where I will be by the time I am
50. No I am happy, I am happy just being me. Cooking for my family, god forbid
- housework, and just generally pottering around. Not rushing things, not
setting deadlines – all the things I lived by have now become insignificant. </div>
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Is this the new me I ask myself ? Is it
wrong to just take the time to smell the roses and listen to music? </div>
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My husband is happy for me to do this, but I fear that
may not last. Should I give myself a kick up the backside and get back out
there? – and yet I don't want to, I am happy. Just popping up to Tesco or
driving over to Bedford it feels like I'm doing everything for the first time. Being able
to be free to come and go when I want and where I want is fantastic. I have
spent so much time being chauffeured around, being looked after, cooked for and
generally being bloody useless, that the freedom of just jumping in the car or
walking round the corner is something I am loving, and having time - all this lovely time to waste and not regret a single thing. Not regretting that I could have been doing something more constructive than watching the birds in the garden or playing with the cat. Or taking my time, reading a book, cooking a new recipe. </div>
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When radiotherapy finished in July I thought I would go
back to the old Wendie straight away, but unfortunately, cancer treatment does
not allow for that. Even now my bones ache, and I still get tired easily.
Getting up from the sofa or getting out of bed is painful – I do loosen up
after a bit, but I still can’t walk miles and miles like I used to. Also I have
been diagnosed with osteoporosis so no doubt this has a knock on effect. </div>
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When we were on holiday we had to climb up a big hill to
get to the hotel. It was a chore, along with the hot flushes, and tiredness.
But my god did we need it – the holiday that is. Unfortunately, the hotel which
was meant to be 4 stars, would maybe have achieved 2 - and us being fully inclusive - the food was inedible. </div>
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So we
decided as a family to sit down and make a pact that we were going to make the
best of it and we did. Thank god we have teenagers and not little ones. </div>
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On the second day
a rep came round to talk about trips. I was so hot with sweat dripping off me
that I decided there and then that wig wearing was not an option, so in
front of the rep and with some encouragement from my daughter I took off the
wig and hat and carried on listening to him. He didn't even notice. However, I
had to go to the ladies with my daughter, where I cried and cried no matter
that he hadn't noticed - I felt exposed and raw. I knew I couldn't wear the wig, as I would
have collapsed with the heat and the hot flushes. Every holiday I have ever been
on I always pinned up my blonde hair in a ponytail and styled it in the evenings.
So after crying most of the day on and off, we looked round and found me a trilby
hat which I wore most of the time. I kept the wig for in the evenings, so I managed
to style that differently instead. I still had terrible hot flushes but I
managed to survive them. </div>
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Anyway in the end we went on tons of trips, swam, ate out
and had a really great laugh. Only one person at the hotel asked me why I had different
hair in the evening and I told him that I'd had cancer, it’s funny how that
word transfer’s all over the world. </div>
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I have applied for a few jobs but admittedly a bit half
hearted and the couple that I really wanted I didn't get. Through all my
experience and qualifications I have decided that I do not want to work in an
office, I will only work for a certain salary and I will not be bossed about.
The downside of this is, I have been self employed for 3 years, and there are a
lot younger, more qualified people out there that will be happy to accept less
money than I want. Have I made myself unemployable? Another worry. If I stay
self employed I will need to retrain – but in what area? Again no light bulb
moments.</div>
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I am sure when the
time is right something will come up. Again fear of turning up for an interview
wearing a wig, having to explain about the cancer, will it hinder? Then if I do
get the job, will the staff take me seriously walking around having hot flushes
and adjusting my wig? Also at some point in the new year I will have to have
some time off for a reconstruction, will this also be taken into consideration?
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I still hate looking in the mirror, I think my mojo is
coming back and I am gradually getting back to the old me personality wise, but looks wise I am a
bigger, balder version of what I used to be. Yes I can slap on the wig and makeup and still look okay, but inside I wonder if Wendie will come back completely
– whoever she is? </div>
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I have moments of sheer happiness that I am alive, and
that my family have albeit at a price come through all this. Then there are the
days that I think I am sick of hearing about cancer. All the stories of people
that have been touched by it, all the stories of hope and optimistic cancer survivors
that we see every day, it’s like when
you want to buy a certain make of car, everywhere you go you see that bloody car
and cancer is the same – albeit this is a poor example, it follows you.
Everyone knows someone that has been touched by it. It is like a stain that
will not come out. </div>
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There are undeniably brave and beautiful people out there
who are battling through – some are nowhere as lucky as I have been, some will
lose their lives or the lives of someone they love, but I am numb to it. I do not want to hear any more stories of
people losing their lives; I do not want to watch it on television, and most of
all I do not want to be labelled as a cancer survivor. I see my friends and
family beginning to treat me normally now, and not look at me in that knowing
way. </div>
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Things are certainly going back to normal at home too, the kids want to know what's for dinner
and have I washed that top or trousers that I promised to have clean for them? They
want lifts to friends and demand my attention to tell me about their day. My
husband comes home to the smell of a dinner and asks if I've been shopping,
is his uniform clean? All the ordinary things that I used to moan about are now
a welcome return to normality. I know
that cancer will never be far away from any of us, but I want to be able to get
on with my life – no matter what it may bring and no matter that I haven't got
a clue what it is I want from it any more. So for now I will just take my time
and look forward to the next lot of twists and turns, the little bumps in the
road and the smooth journeys that it will inevitably bring me. </div>
Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-84055702375171416482013-05-14T08:14:00.000-07:002013-05-14T08:14:15.605-07:00The end of one the start of anotherAs I write this I am gradually returning to being Wendie. Very slowly my hair is growing on my head, I have a couple of eyelashes, a few eyebrows and hairy knees!<br />
My weight is slowly going down and next week I am - hopefully - having my PICC line removed. In the meantime I've had a long chat with my oncologist who has told me about the next stage in my treatment - radiotherapy. Last week I went along to Addenbrooks to be "tattooed" and scanned, and as promised within 5 day of this, a letter arrived telling me my treatment would start at the end of this month. Its going to be every day for 3 weeks.<br />
However as I type I am still experiencing the aftermath of chemotherapy, still my taste buds have not returned and my mouth is extremely dry. Still I am bloated, and still I tire very easy. In fact the week I had my last session - I should have been over the moon, but unfortunately it was two days before our friend's Karen's hen night. I sat on the sofa and try to muster up the energy to go and two things came to mind. One I would just be having hot flushes all night - in between worrying if I was going to be sick and two I would probably ruin it for everyone else because they would feel they had to babysit me - you know - lets look out for the fat bird in the wig because she has cancer! No I decided that I didn't want to spoil anyone's night out especially the Hen's. Besides the thought of dancing, eating and drinking in a hot place just filled me with dread. Anyone that knows me, will know that normally I would have jumped at the chance and would have been up on the table with the girls dancing the night away! Again another night of fun robbed because of chemo!<br />
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So even though it was expected the letter arriving to tell me about the next stage shocked me - so far my treatment has been consistent, well planned and completely on the ball. Why would the next stage be any different? No I think it was the fact that I haven't had chance to catch my breath. So as soon as I opened the letter, I though " here we go again", unfortunately there is no pause button when it comes to fighting cancer.<br />
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In addition on the 23rd of this month I start hormone therapy - again another letter was given to me regarding the side effects - and guess what, weight gain is in there again along with lethargy. So a week before I go for my radiotherapy I start these tablets which I continue to take for 5 years. In this time they should mop up any cancer cells that may possibly be left after treatment. So even though there is a price- they are important in curing me. <br />
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As I already mentioned there's been no let up for me and last week I felt a wee bit sorry for myself - that was until we booked a mini cruise. Yes I felt a little break was needed to pick me up before I start the next battle. Hubby and I discussed the fact that we would - at the end of all this - like to renew our vows. Andrew stated that he'd like to do this on a cruise ship. In fact he often mentions how he'd love to go on cruise regardless. I've always said its something on the bucket list that we can do when the kids are older. However in the grand scheme of things I am very much in the here and now.<br />
No we can't afford to go on a full blown cruise, and no our son is not old enough to be left for more than a night with his sister - to be fair, she may kill him knowing her like I do. If he annoys her she is quite happy to pick up a large object - like a chair and threaten him with it! So one night is as much as she can take of him and to be fair, I don't want anything broken!<br />
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The idea came to mind after I looked around for a mini break - something different to do for me and hubby before the next stage in cancer busting. I came across the Marco Polo. Mini party cruise overnight to Scotland full board ( steerage obviously ) for the May Bank Holiday the week before Radiotherapy starts.<br />
A little adventure, which would in my mind kill a few birds with one stone. One it would be something for me and hubby to look forward to. Two it would give us both an idea of what to expect. Three - and most importantly, should I fail to mention, I have absolutely no spacial awareness on a boat - as in I am unable to stand up. Unfortunately, the minute I get on a boat I cannot walk properly. Let me explain I've been on a ferry and some large boats on holiday trips and every time I feel the need to hold on to everything in my way that's nailed down or not as the case may be ( I have grabbed strange men before - obviously to aid my walking) No I don't need a drink, because I sway with every step I take. Also I think its important to mention that when my son was younger we watched Titanic far to many times. This ship we are going on has around 11 floors and we are deep inside the bowels of it - cabin wise so anything could happen.<br />
To say this will be an adventure is an understatement. It could also mean that in 5 years when we come to renew our vows I may have to be held upright in a hoist or be as far away from a cruise ship as possible. It just depends how I get on with this overnighter.<br />
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Since I have mentioned this to family and friends. My son has talked about the Poseidon Adventure and would I like to watch it - again? Hubby however just keeps putting the Love Boat on the i pod and dancing and singing in the kitchen he's that excited - bless him.<br />
However, last night after having friends round the conversation ranged from underwater portholes- to the theme tune of Titanic being hummed in my ear. So I am planning on taking the following, earplugs, sea bands and I may just pack some tenor ladies in case I feel the need to wee a lot with all that water around me.<br />
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As I type another letter has just turned up from the hospital - I need to have a bone scan DEXA on Monday the 3rd June. This is to measure my bone density now. After all my treatment it will be measured again to make sure I don't get the onset of osteopenia which if left unchecked can lead to osteoporosis. See - well planned, consistent and completely on the ball, that's the NHS. As for my body, well only time will tell I don't have a crystal ball. However what I do have is faith that all this treatment will allow me to have a good dance the next time we have a " do" on dry land!<br />
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<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-1443503027658823362013-04-29T09:57:00.001-07:002013-04-29T10:57:41.213-07:00In which I become a blown up cartoon version of myself......I have spent the last month organising a wedding fayre, and to be honest it has been extremely difficult. However I have patted myself on the back for a job well done. In between I've built up a Wedding Networking group and ran our friend's company while they have been away. Yes I have been exhausted, yes I had to push myself, as in the middle of all this I have had another bout of chemo - which wasn't any where near as as bad as the last lot - see last post -where my whole perceptive on life changed.<br />
However I did it and now as my last chemo looms - hurrah I move into the next stage of my treatment -radiotherapy - I am feeling a little more satisfied that hopefully it will be my last ever chemo and in a couple of weeks I can have the PICC line removed. ( the line that is permanently in my arm that goes from my arm round to just above my heart inside my body. This is what the chemo goes into ) Then I'm looking forward to my hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows growing back so I won't look so much like a alien.<br />
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I recently described myself to one of my friends as a " Blown up cartoon version of myself" simply because everything about me is false - hair, eyebrows, eyelashes. Obviously one of my boobs is now made up of a temporary implant with skin grafted from my back, so this is false - however it will be corrected after radiotherapy finishes.<br />
I am so blown up with all the steroids that I simply do not recognise myself any more. I can now fill out a pair of jeans in the bum area - which my husband loves. My legs are unrecognisable as normally they are skinny, but now they look a normal size and trousers cling to them which is unbelievable. My arms are huge and my face has ballooned up. Apart from the fact that nothing fits me, I have now borrowed my friend's size 12 jeans and have given her some of my size 10's. (The cow has lost weight )So everything that was Wendie has now been erased.<br />
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A couple of weeks ago we went to a friends for dinner, or a " Food orgy." A few things happened, first of all I had to wear an elasticated jumpsuit, which to be fair looked very elegant and once I had dressed it up it did look good, however teamed with a long wavy wig, false eyelashes etc. the person looking out of the mirror was not me. Elegant yes - funny, chatty, kooky, slim Wendie - no, it was bloody fat version of Jessica Rabbit!<br />
My friends were amazing, the food was fabulous however I couldn't taste it. I managed a glass or two of wine, and joined in the conversation, in-between hot flushes where sweat was dripping of me, everyone noticed my struggle and suggested that I take off my wig as I was amongst friends. I was nearly in tears as I felt quite poorly, but I refused to give in - I've had to cancel so many things due to bloody cancer- I was staying put if it killed me. Anyway, eventually I took the wig off and sat there dressed up, full make up and a bald head. Do you know what? No one was bothered, they were more interested in trying on the wig. Andrew said he was proud of me and the others said I looked good bald, even though I was pleased that the wig had come off and felt better I still felt strange that I was the only female with the bald head.<br />
Then just as I was beginning to feel okay about the lack of hair on my head, I was sick - all over our friend's kitchen - Errr taxi for The Webb's........<br />
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I know that as time goes on my fight with Cancer will end. My hair will grow back and the steroids and chemo will wear off. I look at other cancer survivors and they're all really positive people - after all what is the alternative?<br />
I will - hopefully - get the all clear when I am 50 - five long years, however I don't think you every stop worrying that it will come back,worst case scenario is that it could spread or it won't have all been zapped, what a way to live thinking about that every day. However, I have plans - so many things that I want to do, I don't have time for cancer- it just seems that some days it gets the better of me and I have to make time for it, much to my annoyance, but even now I am fighting.<br />
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In the last couple of weeks I have had someone I know who has been diagnosed with it, and someone else die from it. Now I could get all philosophical here, but to be fair - I am angry, not for me you understand,<br />
No, for me I have never really been angry I have been accepting I have just done as I am told and got on with it.No I'm angry that this terrible disease can grab anyone, at any time. The friend that had been diagnosed came round for a cup of tea. I poured her a large glass of wine - what should I say to her? She asked me if she was going to die. I said no the aim is to cure. She cried because she felt that she would not see her children grow up. I told her that I couldn't pretend as there was no good news, however she needed to stay strong and bloody minded and she would see her children grow up.She would have good days and bad but if she stayed strong she would get through it and before she looked round her life would be back to normal. She may not have to have chemo, or radiotherapy she may just have the lumps taken away and that would be it. However she cried and cried........... why her? She just wanted to be normal, this is what made me angry this woman minding her own business and getting on with her life who has already been through stress in her life, all of a sudden she has her world turned upside down because of bloody cancer. It broke my heart, that night I thought about her, did I help her? Did I say the right things? How can you give good news when there isn't any, but like I told her there is always hope, and strength. Maybe I wasn't the best person to ask! I cried on my husband why her? Life was so cruel.<br />
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1 in 3 women are diagnosed with cancer, what is the world coming to? The flip side is of course cancer can be cured, in this day and age we don't just get handed a death sentence. Yes its bloody horrible and its a long fight, but we <u>can</u> be cured, and this is what keeps me going, this is what I hang on to - every single day. I just hope my friend will..........as I don't know if I am strong enough for both of us.<br />
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<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-48835767738980821882013-03-29T04:41:00.001-07:002013-03-29T04:41:09.398-07:00It's life Jim - but not as we know it! So much has happened in the last couple of weeks that I didn't know how to write about it - so I didn't. I find that as long as I can coast along in life I am okay, but if anything comes along that slightly rocks my boat, I am no longer able to deal with it rationally. I can cry at the slightest thing, my resistance is at an all time low. I always thought I was stronger than I am - I have come to the realisation that I am not invincible neither am I superhuman.<br />
Let me explain, last week I went to see my oncologist Dr Sarah who told me what to expect with my next course of chemo - I was half way through - hurrah, it would be super sailing all the way - or so I thought. Any preconceptions I had about myself and my ability to fight this dreadful disease flew out of the window last weekend. Dr Sarah called me in as normal the day before my 4th chemo session. I told her how well I had reacted to the last dose and she told me about Taxotere. The next 3 doses that I was due to have.... after we discussed all the new symptoms that I may or may not have, rather blase I said " So it will just be like having the flu then" this was not a question rather a statement. I then left the chemo suite went home and convinced hubby and myself that it was going to be anywhere near as bad as FEC the last treatment of chemo that I had just had. Brilliant, I thought now just get through the next couple of months get the radiotherapy out the way and get my boobs re done and that'll be me sorted.<br />
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Oh how we deceive ourselves when we are eternal optimists. Not once did I think this next course of treatment would hinder my life. Yes of course I have had to adjust my life around cancer, and it has been a bit stop start, feel sorry for myself, but stiff upper lip Wendie. Put on your make up and wig and don't play the victim. Other patients have told me how gruelling they found their treatment, and I..........yes I, in my infinite wisdom on what we call life, have been smug - yes bloody smug, when this wonderful people have told me their stories of horrific times they've had through their chemo, I've always thought " well that won't be me, I just get my head down and work my way through it" I cannot believe how narrow minded, and near sighted I have been.<br />
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Now I could beat myself up here but to be frank - I don't have the energy to waste on such trivial matters. Basically I have got too big for my boots and Taxotere came along and made me realise that I am no different to the next person. I am no braver, no stronger and certainly no more a fighter than anyone else that has ever battled with cancer.<br />
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The day after Chemo hubby and I went to Spec savers and picked up our new glasses and to be fair I felt no worst than any other time I still managed to look in the odd shoe shop.<br />
However, Saturday onwards was a different matter. I never left the house for a nearly a week, I struggled between sofa, toilet and bed. Nothing could prepare me for the great takeover that I experienced. Every part of my body felt like it was screaming out in pain, by Wednesday I felt that my spine was being drilled into. My fingertips were so sore that I could not hold a cup or glass so typing was out of the question. Besides I was rarely conscious for most of the week. Chemo took hold in such a way that my brain couldn't tell my body whether it was full up with food, or empty. I didn't know the different between wanting to go to the toilet or not. In fact on two occasions I am ashamed to say I wet myself. I didn't know if I was hungry, so I kept eating. I couldn't taste anything and I craved my brain to recognise food. I put salt on dinners and sugar on cereals. When I wasn't lying on the sofa I didn't know if I was asleep or not. My brain took on this tunnel like fog that I didn't recognise. Standing proved painful, sitting down was agony. I couldn't support my head and I was so weak that walking proved impossible. My breast that had been operated on had the most unbearable stabbing pains. My back where the scars are felt like someone had stabbed me with red hot pokers, and my arm where the nerves had been stripped out along with lymph nodes had pulling sensations that felt like my arm was going to explode. My legs and feet felt like someone had trampled all over them and my whole body felt like someone had taken away my frame as I could not sit or stand upright. My stomach was so swollen that I couldn't get any clothes on apart from yoga trousers. To top it all when I looked in the mirror I had become what I feared most - a cancer victim. No hair, no eyebrows, barely any eyelashes and a grey like pallor. A look of total defeat was written all over my face. This was one battle I could not win. It had taken me over. All I could think of was - no more, I cannot take any more. I am done. Complete. Defeated.<br />
As I lay there in pain I had a chat with God - I questioned him over and over, if you exist then why? Why? I lay in the bath in a haze of half living, dribbling and exhausted. I thought of my wonderful husband who had that half out of his mind with worry look, I realised how soul destroying this was for him. My children who had sat and spoke to me when I was in the land of consciousness with smudges under there eyes and fretful looks on their faces, when I struggled to tell them everything was going to be fine. Just give me another day or so and I'll be fine. In my head I am ashamed to say I realise now how - people make their peace with God. How they pick a day and say, this is a good day to die. I planned my funeral in my sleep and when I was awake I told my husband that this was the end of the road for me. I could not put my body through any more. "You realise that I don't want any more chemo" I told him. He nodded his head and turned away, after what seemed like a lifetime he faced me again, took a step closer and said " Yes you bloody well will, you are not giving up do you hear me - don't be so bloody selfish, you have me and the kids and family and friends that rely on you, we've got plans. So no, you will finish this treatment do you hear me? You are not bloody giving up, because I won't let you" I glanced at him and managed a weak laugh. Slowly I put my arms around his neck " No darling" I whispered. " I won't give up, because it is not all about me, but if there were no one else for me to fight for, I would not fight. I would not put myself through any more" again he nodded.<br />
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We both realised then that everything we had hoped and dreamt for would never be the same again. Our lives had changed. I had changed, cancer has crept up through the back door and stole something from me and mine when I wasn't looking. When it first came along I took it on the chin we all did, because I insisted that I would be fine and everyone believed me, and trusted in me, put their faith in me - but now it has stolen something precious from me. It has taken my foundations and my very soul and shook them. Everything I thought I was and everything I believed in is now in question. My strength, my beliefs, me and who I stand for have been tossed around. I don't know who I am any more, but more importantly I don't know what I stand for, my instincts are gone, my zest for life- bland. Like the snow on the ground this springtime, everything is covered and nothing is appearing in shades of colour.<br />
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Yesterday the sun shone and I painted my nails pink.<br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-53520944579241690222013-03-11T15:51:00.000-07:002013-03-11T15:51:45.622-07:00New wig - Hollywood wives are calling! Last week I expected to feel really rubbish, but apart from the Monday where I spent all day sleeping and reading on the sofa in my knitted slouch hat and dressing gown ( Oh yes I did and I didn't beat myself up) I worked the rest of the week without being propped up. <br />
Hubby told me how proud he was of me for taking the day off and doing nothing. Obviously I didn't tell him about the cleaning of the bathroom and the couple of loads that went into the washing machine, but honestly he was so relieved when he came home from a long day at work to find me cuddled up on the sofa. <br />
Normally he's telling me to sit down and rest. My chemo nurses say the same. So on Monday I did what I was told and I loved it, also after sleeping in-between chapters I managed to finish my book!<br />
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Tuesday onwards I was still waiting for the chemo to kick in, apart from my mouth feeling very strange, really sensitive, dry and metal tasting and having a problem with my back and neck - another story. I felt okay. At least a 6 out of ten maybe a 7 and it lasted all week much to my delight.<br />
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Also on Tuesday another new wig turned up - drum roll please - it was a long wavy blonde/brown one, I was so excited - however I wondered if I would look like mutton dressed as lamb? Or some old bird out of a Jackie Collins novel? Or heaven forbid - my mother? Would transvestite's look at me and want me to join their new dance troupe or would the kids and hubby roll their eyes and laugh at me? A million thoughts ran through my head. So with great trepidation I put it on - and pulled it off - no not off my head but really pulled it off - it looked great. Hubby told me I looked lovely. The kids told me they liked it - heaven forbid!<br />
So I got dressed and went to work wearing it. No one saw the hot flushes and the frantic tucking behind the ears whilst swearing as I tried to get used to it. In fact I sauntered round Tescos afterwards and was suprised that no one laughed at me. <br />
Now I've put on weight recently - I blame the steroids and not the fact that I cannot stop bloody eating and do you know what a long wavy wig along with a large handbag definitely makes you look thinner. Don't ask me how, it just does. <br />
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On Thursday I sashayed into Chemo wearing it. Caroline one of the other ladies who also has chemo the same days as I couldn't figure out what was different about me. The nurses thought it was fabulous. Apparently they love Andrew and myself coming into the ward, they guess what colour outfit I going to be wearing, how high my shoes are going to be and what wig I'm going to be modelling that week. The words I hear often are " We love it when our Wendie comes in she always looks so glamorous" this makes me feel fantastic. Admittedly we did get put in the naughty corner last week for giggling Andrew and I. <br />
We laugh all through my treatment, we giggle with the nurses and we smile at all the patients. Don't get me wrong I hate chemo, but I look forward to seeing the lovely nurses, tea ladies and everyone else that makes the chemo unit so bloody wonderful. These beautiful people are allowing me to stay alive. So I'm doing it in style. <br />
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On Friday we took the kids bowling. I had so much energy that I was dancing and moon walking in the lane - much to my son's disgust. The more he ask me to stop the more I wiggled and jiggled. Don't get me wrong I am not an exhibitionist, I just felt so happy to be alive and out and about with my family having a good time. We laughed and jumped up and down every time one of us scored cheered each other on when we were rubbish and generally had a great time. Its one of those days I will cherish - it doesn't happen very often now being the fact that they are both teenagers. I did at one point run into the ladies and have a bit of a grizzle with happiness, sad I know but wow, what a great day. <br />
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Saturday afternoon I met up with some friends had a fantastic lunch and a gossip, I was suppose to go out again in the evening but I was done for. So hubby and I had a great dinner at home and put our feet up. Then just to finish off a great week Sunday for Mothers day was the perfect ending. No wonder I'm putting on weight!<br />
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I have to say that lucky stars are well and truly thanked. My life is fab! <br />
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Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-4853926065988134882013-02-27T13:11:00.000-08:002013-02-27T13:11:25.516-08:00Goals, dreams and the what the future holdsWhen I look back, my life has changed in spades over the last couple of years since Andrew asked me to marry him. There has been some really fantastic times and - to be fair - really bad times money wise, health wise etc. Sometimes I feel that I want to stop the world and get off, life goes by quickly - which is a great when times are bad, but sometimes I just want to be........<br />
I just want to sit in the sun and smile and say life is fantastic. Don't get me wrong, I thank my lucky stars every day that I have the most fantastic family and friends. My husband is wonderful and my children are too. We've got a roof over our heads and we are fed and warm. All the things that we take for granted - and we all do it.<br />
It'll be nice to win the lottery, I dream of what I would do if I won it. just like everyone else. Andrew and I argue over what we would spend the money on, we imagine what it would be like to be worry and debt free, however in the grand scheme of things the chances of that happening are slim. I mean would that make us any happier? Yes for a while. Then we would probably have something else to worry about. <br />
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Someone once told me that I should stop wanting things and just be grateful for what I have. I took this on board and then I thought to be fair if we didn't want things - or want to achieve things, that's when our life stands still. Hopes, dreams, and goals are what keep us going. If we don't have a dream, how we gonna make a dream come true........... says the song - and its true. How many of us write down what we want to do in the future? How many of us write down our goals? Our dreams? Our ambitions? Well I do, I re-evaluate my life every 3 to 4 months, I have long term goals and short term goals. My short term goals have always been achievable, the goal posts may have changed but I always get there in the end. I plan how I'm going to get there. I work hard at making it happen. It never goes the way I plan it but it always works out well in the end.<br />
Take for instance, wanting a new car. I was suppose to achieve that by September last year, but stuff got in the way, we had to pay out for other bits and pieces and the money we saved towards the car went on birthday and Christmas presents. So money wise we had a good Christmas because of the money we saved, whereas the Christmas beforehand we were so skint that we had sleepless nights thinking how we were going to make it happen - in the end we did, but we were miserable.<br />
I know someone will tell me its not about the presents and the giving and receiving but I love to give presents, the look on peoples faces is priceless to me. However this year we had the money, but I had cancer and had a breast removed just before it. Somehow Christmas was achieved in between morphine and pain, down to my good organisation skills and my good management of money . The car came in January. So the goal posts were moved quite considerably but I got there in the end.<br />
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So no its not about the money, of course we need it, just as we need our hopes and dreams. The goal posts may get moved and you may have to swap one dream for another dream, but normally that dream when it comes true is nearly always better than the orginal dream. The satisfaction of achieving things in life has always kept me going. <br />
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So how am I tackling the cancer thing......well most of the time I feel pants, I could play the victim and give in, or I could just get on with my life, and on the days when I feel really grim, I just wear extra make up, and an extra big smile. Don't get me wrong I'm not saying that's what everyone should do - its just the only way I know how. Then friends say to me - "you don't have to put a brave face on with me - I know you remember". Then I have a little pity party. Maybe a little cry, a feel sorry for myself moment. Then reality strikes and I know that I am one of the lucky ones. I will survive ( another song there) I will be cured and my life will go back to normal. There is a big light at the end of my tunnel and it glows extremely bright. So what if I've lost my boob, I've got a new one, at some they will both match with a new nipple and everything. When I'm 80 they'll still be pert and not hanging down by my knees. See free boob job on the NHS!<br />
So what if I've lost my hair, every day I get to look like someone different. I am now matching my wigs in with my outfits. Today I am rock chick! Tomorrow I might have a 50's vibe, who knows.<br />
I don't have to shave, I have learnt that every day I can change my eyebrows to match my hair, make up and I look good. I don't look like the victim. People don't stare at me and say " Bless her shes got cancer" So I'm not going to play the victim. <br />
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Cancer has not got in the way of my hopes, dreams and ambitions. It's moved the goal posts and time limits, but I am still achieving great things. I am still moving on with my life and if cancer stops me from doing what I want to do - well I just work my way round it. <br />
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Tomorrow is a Chemo day - yes I hate it, yes it makes me feel ill, but every session I have brings me closer to my next goal. Tomorrow I'll be half way through. I go onto another type of chemo next time which will bring another set of symptom's. My doctor today told me that the reason I am having such a high dose is because she knows its the best course of action for me. She knows its tough, she pulled no punches and told me that I will feel even worst this time. .... but I know that, I've just got to grit my teeth and get on with it. <br />
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So here's to a great future whatever it may bring. Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-76083604254369237532013-02-17T13:14:00.000-08:002013-02-17T13:14:48.927-08:00Wig on Wig off?I've not written a new blog for a while. No excuse really I just didn't feel up to it. The day after writing the last blog. I asked Andrew to shave all my hair off. It was a very private moment between a husband and his wife. No one was present and we didn't make a big song and dance about it. I told him the time had come. It took about 5 Min's, as there wasn't much left. Afterwards I looked in the mirror, burst into tears and he held me for a while and let me cry. <br />
Later on I showed each child in turn. Kate was fine, but Conor was very upset at first. They've gotten used to it a bit more now - thank god. <br />
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Now that I have figured out how to wear a wig so it doesn't fall off, ( I cringe as I remember the second day I wore one and went to get the dustbin in, it was really windy and as it wasn't properly secured the wind took it, thank god no one saw) I am finding it hard wearing one all day, apart from being constantly worried that it looks like a wig and that people are staring, they don't go well with hot flushes, I want to fling it off as soon as one starts which usually happen at the most impromtu moments. I also find them itchy and I have formed a bad habit of scratching underneath them. I could be walking round the shops or in a restaurant and if anyone looks over at the wrong time - well lets just say, I need to remind myself to stop fiddling. <br />
For instance on Thursday I went to the chemo suite to have my line flush, and a blood clotting agent put in. I still feel uneasy about going out on my own, so as my daughter was on a day off from college she came with me. In the car on the way home she told me off, " Mum stop pulling at your your wig and scratching people can see you" sure enough a man and his wife in the car next to me were staring in wonderment. I smiled and stopped. <br />
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When I'm at home, I either wear a chemo hat, I have one in red and one in green, believe me they are not flattering, or a hat of some sort. Scarves I can't seem to get on with, but it's not unusual for me to be wearing a wig one minute, a scarf the next, then a hat the next, then back on with the wig. <br />
As I now have three wigs I can pick and choose, so now I have adjusted them so they actually fit on my head properly and had them all cut so they sit better. I feel happier that they're not as Andrew puts it ...... so syrupified. Although I am convinced that people are still looking at me I have been brave and gone out on my own a few times. So I'll get there. <br />
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I've also spent a small fortune in hair accessories. Its just not me to plonk one on my head and that's it. No I've managed a low ponytail, backcombing, clippings, slides etc. Anything to make it look like its me in the mirror. I am getting used to drawing in eyebrows, mascaraing diminished eyelashes - and actually I don't look too bad! <br />
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After chemo this time I have to say I felt terrible. For the first couple of days I felt okay, then as the days went on it got worse. Having to inject my stomach and take all the tablets was a real chore. I just didn't realise how sick and low I would feel. On pancake day in between tossing pancakes I felt so ill that I had to keep putting my head on the kitchen counter then step out into the cold just to keep me upright. On Wednesday I worked all day at the computer and just had to work my way through the sickness. Valentine's day I was running up and down the stairs to the toilet in between courses. Knocking back indigestion tablets in between mouthfuls of food. Friday my friends birthday I couldn't face food but knew I had to eat something otherwise the sick feeling would set in again. I took ages to select my food, then when it came I picked at it before announcing I had to go home. <br />
Sitting in my pyjamas with a hat and my hood up on my dressing gown had become my favourite outfit.<br />
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Then yesterday morning I got up to spend a much needed weekend away with my husband and amazingly I didn't feel too bad. Not 100% but hey we can't have everything can we? I had booked a pre birthday/post valentine weekend away for him and me. Do you know what we had a brilliant time. We had a good drink, a fantastic meal and a wonderful 4 poster bed. <br />
I managed to look okay in my wig and hoped no one noticed that that's exactly what it was. In the evening when we went out for dinner, I had bought a new dress that hid my PICC line. Wore a long wig and my husband stepped out of the shower and said " wow" I thought ' Wendie you've still got it'.<br />
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Later that night - and not wanting to go into too much detail, I had a case of - wig on, wig off?<br />
I mean what has everyone else done in this situation? You know - your about to have an intimate time and do you keep the wig on and hope in all the tousling its doesn't fall off, or fall over your eyes? Or do you take your wig off and hope your partner still fancies you? Do you wear a hat that's a bit sparkly - to show you made the effort. One that matches your underwear? I mean what? We discussed it for ages, hubby told me it didn't matter to him either way he loved me. I tighten the wig and prayed it would hold on. Then I thought about it some more, I mean what if I had a hot flush in the middle of it, the wig would have to come off then? In between the fact that we have to be careful of everything on my right side especially my new boob and my PICC line on my left arm. Here we were with another spanner in the works.<br />
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So in between the latest dilimmas I'm feel much better and things are on the up. Yes I know my next chemo will be soon and I will feel terrible again, but you know at the moment I'm feeling good and I'll take that and make the most of it. <br />
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<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-9205056633782668372013-02-04T10:37:00.000-08:002013-02-04T10:37:00.870-08:00Hair hair everywhereLast Wednesday I sat in the Primrose unit having my line flushed through and was amazed that I was the only one who still had a full head of hair. I actually wrote about it on Face book as I was in utter amazement that I hadn't lost any of it. Also - although at first I felt confused, I haven't had to shave my legs in nearly two weeks. Don't get me wrong this is great and I'm getting used to the fact that I've hardly any hair left on my arms or anywhere else for that matter. However, to my horror my eyelashes are already falling out but I have managed to find a great mascara which takes care of what I have got left and even though I've spent a small fortune finding the correct eyebrow kit, including, powders, pencils and stencils, my eyebrows are looking amazing. ( thanks to the girl on the Benefit counter) <br />
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My sleep patterns are all over the place I get up on numerous occasions throughout the night to check in the bathroom mirror to see if my hair is falling out. It got so frequent that when I was in the Primrose unit that day I spoke to the nurse about it in a slightly obsessive way, she told me I needed to sleep and that maybe I would find some peace if I just shaved it all off. I realised she had a point - I really did, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.<br />
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I couldn't and still can't walk pass a mirror without looking in it, I was running my hands through my hair to see if any of it came out. I even got to the stage where I had to ask my husband to wash it as I couldn't bear to wash it myself. I was convinced that it was all over the bedroom carpet I was obsessing about it constantly and often broke down in tears.<br />
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In the meantime I spoke to a good friend of mine who told me that when she had her brain tumour - when we were teenagers, she'd convinced herself that her hair wasn't going to fall out. She continued to tell me that she was in denial and of course eventually it did fall out. It was over 20 years ago and I remember her NHS wig - how times have changed. I myself told the nurse that maybe mine wouldn't fall out. She nodded her head and told me that in a few cases it didn't. Although she didn't look convinced. <br />
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Then on Wednesday afternoon it happened, that very same day. The first lot of hair decided to come out. Not what I imagined. It came out in my hands as I touched it. Thursday I got up and I was too scared to brush it. Taking the plunge I did so and handfuls came out on the brush. In between tears I tried numerous hair pieces. I wasn't ready to wear a wig. Buns, ponytails, fringes. Luckily I have a few. On the Friday for my sister's birthday dinner, even though I wore a bun I was mortified that hair was falling out into people's food. <br />
Saturday during the day I took the kids shopping. I didn't wear anything, but just put it up in a normal ponytail and clipped the fringe back. it still looked okay but I knew my days of wearing it down were over. Then that night before we went to dinner at friends, I washed it, and so much came out that the thickness of my ponytail decreased and it looked like a rats tail. I asked my husband to call our friends and tell them we were going to be late. In the meantime I'd filled the wastepaper bin with my hair and in between tears I managed to get a hair piece to stay in and hair sprayed every hair I could down. One of the guy's picked us up and as I came down the stairs he pointed to my head and said " Its not what's here" then pointed to my heart " It's whats in here Wendie" I held back the tears and went to dinner with our lovely understanding friends. <br />
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Yesterday I wore a wig for the first time, but it took ages for me to get out of the door, as I wasn't happy that it looked okay.Yet funny enough no one noticed not even my daughter. However that's because I can still pin my fringe over the front of it. So it doesn't seem that final. I do need to get myself into a routine of speeding up my hair and makeup - because it takes ages to apply everything. I don't want people to look at me and know I've got cancer. I want to look normal. So far I think I'm managing it. <br />
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Today I am rearranging bits, I've changed my fringe over as I had a thinning spot in the front on one side. As I put my hair up I have thinning bits at the back in my hairline, but I figure no one can see me at home. I've just clipped a small bun in and rearranged and sprayed down the back. Clip in pieces are becoming increasing hard to wear as there is nothing much to clip them too now. <br />
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Yes I know that I should shave it off - but I am not ready, all the time I can cover it up I will. Using my own fringe makes me feel like I am just experimenting with different hair styles, however I am sure that will too be gone in the next day or so. <br />
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I cry most days and then tell myself off. I lay awake at night wondering what I can get away with the next day. I get up in the morning and give it a good brush, almost punishingly. Trying to see how much will come out. I have kept the wastepaper bin with all my hair in it in the bedroom. I cannot bear to throw it out. I hoovered the carpet again today, as it really does get covered. I know that I am fighting a hopeless cause, but I figure that all the time I have some hair - albeit around 50 to 60% has gone and its like a ball of fluff on my head - I can experiment. To look in the mirror and see someone who is completely bald feels me with dread. The thought of walking into a shop and someone knowing I am wearing a wig and getting a sympathetic look feels me with dread. Someone sniggering that my hair isn't real - yes I know I need to get a grip. <br />
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On Saturday night I did manged to have a laugh about it with my friends, albeit they would never have brought the subject up first. Andrew was proud of me joking about my hair loss, as I seem to have had a sense of humour transplant lately and have become withdrawn, however looking in the mirror everyday or seeing your hair all over your pillow isn't much to laugh about. At some point I will have to wear the wigs full time. Before my next Chemo session on Thursday I am picking up another wig at the hospital. I hope it looks good. Then I will have 3, I hope the only reason I cannot get out of the door on time in the future will not be because I am in tears because bits are falling off me, but because I just can't figure out what wig matches my outfit that day!Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-70819850313276612582013-01-26T08:37:00.000-08:002013-01-26T08:37:49.450-08:00A smack of realism - and a dose of tears.The last week or so has been up and down in so many ways. The weekend was full of friends and laughter but I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. However I muddled through and cooked dinner for 7 of us on Sunday. On Sunday night I ached so much and my PICC line was giving me problems, I kept taking my temperature - as instructed, and hoped it wouldn't go over 37.5. (Apparently that's when I have to go straight to AAU) In the end after Hubby nagging I phoned the Primrose unit and was told to go in. If you remember the snow outside was thick and continuous. I weighed up the odds, and against better judgement decided that I would go to bed, take some pain killers and take my temperature every 4 hours. Next morning the hospital rang and told me I had to go in. I made light of it to Hubby who whizzed me in straight to the Primrose unit. My lovely Chemo nurse Helen, took one look at my arm cleaned me up, flushed it through and took some blood - just in case. She then told us we would have to wait an hour for the results - and if positive which she very much doubted I would have to have a scan for Deep Vein Thrombosis this was at 10.30. After a hour the result wasn't in so we waited another 20 minutes before deciding that we would go home as we were sure the result would be fine. Thirty minutes later we were on our way back to the hospital where Andrew dropped me off as the result was positive. I was asked to make my way to the day ward as a scan had been arranged to check where the clot was in my line. At 5.40 after being told that a scan could not been arranged for that day I was given some Tinzaparin ( blood clotting injections that had to be self administered into my stomach) and discharged. Andrew picked me back up and on the way home I began to cry and this continued for a couple of hours. I cried on the kids, I cried on the cat, I cried whilst cooking dinner and I cried through eating it. In fact I cried so much I had forgotten what I started crying about in the first place. I couldn't pull myself together, I felt rubbish and if anyone else pulled me about, stabbed me with a needle, or put me through any more pain. I was going to tell them - rather unpleasantly - to leave me alone. I ached all over, my throat was sore and I was angry, and I couldn't pull myself together. Then on Tuesday I couldn't even be bothered to get out of the bed or answer the phone. Friends text me to see if I was okay, I couldn't be bothered to get off the sofa and reply. In the end after a morning of feeling sorry for myself I managed to get myself in the bath - obviously with my arm wrapped in cling film. Get dressed and do a few things around the house. Kicking myself up the backside was such a major issue, as I just had no energy, ached all over and couldn't even be bothered to eat. Then that afternoon a call came through to say that my CT scan for my chest and abdominal, and my bone and vital organ scan results had come back. They were all normal, the cancer hadn't spread, in fact as I write this - Drum roll please - I am cancer free. This time I didn't cry alone hubby cried with me, with relief, with happiness and with the belief that we had a future together and that future was beautiful and bright.<br />
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Yet that night when hubby lined all my tablets up and told me I had to inject myself again with the Tinzaparin, I began to cry again. I had bruises on my stomach from the one I had administered the night before and it really hurt. I'd turned into a small child and begged Andrew to do it quick and not hurt me. My God what had become of me!<br />
That night in bed I had to change my pyjamas twice as I woke up soaking wet from sweat. However, the next morning, I got up and felt more normal. I took myself back to the hospital and had a ultrasound scan for the DVT. Now not wanting to sound like a miserable old cow, even the prod of the scanner hurt as the radiologist scanned the PICC line, my armpit, and above my heart. He then proceeded to do my right ride, as you know this is the side that I had the mastectomy on. So prodding and poking under my arm made me cry - again. The nurse that was cleaning the gel off my body, helped me off the bed and gave me a cuddle. She sent me to the day ward again, where I spoke to a very nice Doctor, who cheered me up immensely - I was okay, there was no DVT the results were good. I just needed to get my dressing changed again and more importantly I didn't need to administer any more of the Tinzaparin.<br />
Back at the Primrose ward one of the nurses changed my dressing and another nurse came up and asked me how I was getting on, I told her about the tears and how pants I felt in general, how I had tried to stay strong and couldn't. They both laughed and told me it was perfectly normal and not to be so hard on myself as I had been through a long process.<br />
The nurse that was changing my dressing, knelt down and congratulated me on coping so well!!! I then learnt that she had been diagnosed as terminal with some little known condition. I asked her to tell me all about it. She confessed that she had not spoken to anyone regardless of the fact that she was diagnosed two weeks previous. She was 36 years old, had two children aged 6 and 8 and was a single parent. We talked for a while and I was quite frank. I told her about Andrew's Dad and how he had come through 2 lots of different cancer in one year, I then told her about Andrew's uncle who was given 12 months to live 6 months ago, yet in the middle of his chemo his doctor was telling him that he could now book his holiday for next year. Most of all I told her about hope. How so much was being done these days to prolong peoples lives. How she needed to talk to people become armed with all the facts and results then decide what she wanted to do. Lastly I told her how she needed to give herself a pat on the back for coping so well.<br />
Later that morning I left the Primrose unit with fresh lipstick applied and a different mind set - with not a tear in sight and I haven't cried since. That afternoon I kept an appointment at a venue ( that I nearly cancelled) to be told I had won a contract to head up all their Wedding Fayres . Even though I still didn't feel 100% the next day I went back to work.<br />
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Since Wednesday, I have felt good, as a bonus I haven't had to shave my legs or my armpits, as no more hair is growing and even though my eyebrows and eyelashes are beginning to thin already, I remain positive. Next week when it is my sister's 50th birthday party I will probably have to wear one of my wigs - but that' s next week. This week I survived. There is nothing like a great big dose of realism smacking you in the face to make you put your lipstick on, put your shoulders back and get right back on with living.Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-27937613453847553322013-01-18T12:43:00.001-08:002013-01-18T12:43:20.922-08:00Feeling Hot Hot Hot!!Hot flushes - bloody hot flushes, all very well and good when you are out in the cold and the snow, but normally they only happen when your in the warm or tucked up in bed. However, today I felt one coming on and as luck would have it we went out for a walk all dressed up for battle with the snow, I grabbed hubby's hand and tugged him out the door with a " Quick quick I'm having a hot flush" which was great as it lasted me in the cold for ages, but believe me that doesn't normally happen. Since November I have been having them and unfortunately whilst having treatment I am unable to take anything for them. I try to ensure I have a cold drink close by, but this just means constant trips to the loo. Oh well....<br />
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Anyway, after a nearly uneventful PICC line being popped in at Addenbrooks on Wednesday. Well I say uneventful, I was quite nervous about having this done but like every procedure I've had this is the conversation me and hubby have in the car on route. Him to me " Nervous?" Me " No I have just blocked it out, what do you fancy for tea tonight?" Then we discuss what we fancy to eat and generally have a laugh. When we got there after a short wait we were booked in and I was given a wrist tag - a day procedure? I immediately had my stubborn head on and whispered to hubby that there was no way was I hanging about here all day. I was shown through to a ward called Recovery and disappointment slumped like a rock in my stomach. I whispered to Andrew " I was expecting to be in and out, why are all these people asleep in beds?"<br />
All pretty soon the lovely Administer Radiographer came along and explained everything to us - again I signed my life away and after donning another gorgeous gown. Which looked rather fetching with my new high heeled boots. We got down to business, off we went to theatre where as always, I did as I was told. I laid down stretched out my arm and cleared my mind. It was all very clinical and apart from the local aesthetic going in a vein where I said " Erm sorry but I'm in a lot of pain, I'm having bad hot cramp like pins and needles going up and down my arm" " Is it going numb?" she enquired " Err no its bloody killing me" I calmly said. So she looked on the ultra scan and immediately took it out- relief - telling me that she had hit a nerve bed. I laughed. She then tried again elsewhere, again jab with the local, but this time I felt fine. I didn't look as she threaded the line into the needle. Incidentally she measured me up beforehand across the arm and round to just above my heart - where the line would sit, so she knew how long it was and where she should push it to. There was a little bit of tugging and then she was away. I suppose the whole procedure took around half and hour, in the meantime we chatted like I do to everyone who gives me a procedure - about our families.Then there was lots of mopping of blood and it was all finished. She asked me if I wanted to lie down in Recovery, I looked at her and she said " I guess not" Then she sent me down for X Ray to see if the line had been threaded into place correctly. After a bit of a wait, in a crowded waiting area where I looked fantastic in my gown and coat and high heels. I had the X Ray and went back upstairs. After around 10 minutes I was told everything was fine. Given a discharge letter, and one for Bedford Primrose unit. Then I was out of there and off to lunch with the in laws- lovely.<br />
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So now I have a perfect working PICC line which apart from the fact that I have to have it flushed through every week at the hospital. I can't take a shower and have to wash my hair over the bath before I gingerly sit in it, with my arm wrapped in cling film. However, it's great because any other injections, blood tests or fluids that I need to have they just have to unscrew the top and away they go. I'll have this in until May, and obviously it comes with a strict set of instructions regarding infection etc. but apart from a few twinges and a tiny bit of discomfort its all good so far.<br />
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The 1st Chemo yesterday was a strange experience to begin with. When we got there we waited nearly two hours before my cocktail of drugs turned up, but I was fed and watered and generally looked after. I did comment to hubby that it looked like God's waiting room.However, my nurse Helen was lovely and we had a great laugh, she spent a great deal of time with me explaining everything in detail. Hubby and I listened in awe and confusion. So much information to take in. As she told me everything she kept popping in drug after drug after drug. Half was through I was busting for a wee, so after a movement of furniture and me dragging the machine I was hooked up to I managed to get there in time - " Oh by the way" she cried out to me, " Your wee will be red. It was, thank god she had told me beforehand!<br />
Suddenly the room started filling up and I recognised the lady next to me, she came from the same town as I, she was there along with her sister. Double mastectomy and her first lot of chemo as well. She had been up to the wig fitting room and ordered three different wigs, " so her husband could have a different woman every night" we laughed, and things settled down. I felt very comfy - especially when a lovely heat cushion and a blanket was wrapped round me.<br />
My Breast nurse Rachel popped in and then went in search of my scan results. I told her that as I had received a letter I would be going to the "Keeping Abreast" meetings that were starting next Tuesday night. She sent Alison another Breast nurse who was organising these meetings, around to have a chat to me. Was I prepared to be a flasher? Damn right I was. If flashing my breast and talking to other woman who've been or, are about to go through a mastectomy and have decided to go for a reconstruction. I would happily flash all day every day if it gave some one back their confidence like it has me. While we were chatting I also told her what I did as a stylist, and how I could provide free master classes in dressing to boost all these incredibly brave women. She was over the moon to have me on board, and we talked about fashion shows etc. So exciting stuff.<br />
Rachel came back and told me my bone scan results were not in but the CT scan seemed to be clear. I was to call on Tuesday where I could find out for sure.<br />
Helen came back over with two large bags of drugs and a yellow needle bucket. She explained to me about the eight boxes of drugs I had to take every day and gave me a sheet of paper with the instructions on them. Along with some injections for my palettes that have to go into my stomach - which I decided to do myself and not bother the district nurse.<br />
So there I was armed with all this medication and knowledge. Thank god hubby was there. On the way out I was asked to speak to another lady about reconstruction. She showed me her fantastic wig that she was wearing, and she told me that she had not had a reconstruction and she had had both breasts taken away 6 years ago. I asked the nurse to draw the curtains and I flashed her my boob. I talked about the "Keeping Abreast" meeting and asked her to come. I told her quite a few of us would be flashing our breasts and she could see what all the reconstructions look like. She was very interested. So I hope she will come as I think it will give her some much needed confidence.<br />
On the way out I cuddled and kissed everyone and told them I will see them all again for my line flush each week and my chemo in three weeks. I almost felt sorry to leave this lovely warm place, where the nurses were constantly laughing and joking and it was all hustle and bustle with all the comings and goings. For the first time I didn't feel that I was alone in my battle.<br />
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As I sit here typing now I am waiting for bad stuff to happen to my body - which no doubt it will, I have been out and stocked up on good food, fruit and vegetables, bought a new toothbrush and moisturised myself to within a inch of my life. I've got a fantastic new wig turned up, I got some nice false eye lashes that are very similar to my own, and templates for new eyebrows. So I am going to make sure I really look after myself as much as I can. At the moment I am having a sick feeling - not all the time. More hot flushes then usual and a headache. So when I do get worst I think I am more than prepared.<br />
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I think I am becoming Stronger........and I am becoming proud of myself. Even so roll on May.<br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-33620474377660993612013-01-12T14:32:00.000-08:002013-01-12T14:32:05.745-08:00Cars, scans and making plans This week has been a bit of a mix. First of all - we got a new car, yes it's exciting but I ending up crying as my lovely bright red coupe was part exchanged for the new one. It felt like I was saying goodbye to the old me. Unfortunately I now need a car for comfort and not for speed. The coupe was low down, very sporty and very fast. So unfortunately it had to go. Which brings me on to my hair, I know that in the next fortnight or so it will be gone. Yes I will have a lovely wig, and people won't know. It still doesn't take away the fact that I will be bald. I've tried to keep my spirits up, I've taken photos of myself in different colour wigs and shown the kids, I've tried on different scarves and hats. I just think that when I get through the initial shock of my hair falling out, I'll be fine. In the meantime - I'm sorry but I'm going to have a little rant here. I don't need people telling me to shave it off so I can get used to it. I've had quite a few people suggest this to me - none of them I may add have ever been bald before or had cancer, so they couldn't possibly know how I feel. Quite frankly if I suggested to them to shave their hair off, they would be mortified at the thought. So please, please lovely well meaning people, leave me to know what to do when the time comes. I have spoken in great length about having no hair and going bald to my husband. I asked him if when the time comes could he shave it off. Up until yesterday he told me he couldn't do it. Then when we were up at the hospital we saw a lovely lady around my age who came up and spoke to us as we came out of the Macmillian Primrose unit. She asked if I was going to start chemo soon, we had a long chat, her wig was superb and she looked fantastic. She told us that she was at the end of her treatment and that she worked all through it - which I was pleased to hear. Incidentally her treatment was the same as mine. She told us, amongst other things that her hair started falling out around 10 days after treatment - but it was not instant as Dr Smith my oncologist had suggested it would be - Yes I know everyone is different. Anyway, she got fed up with it coming out in clumps so she shaved it off. This lady lifted mine and Andrew's spirit's considerably so much so that last night Andrew told me that he couldn't bear to see me like that and he would shave it off for me. We had a cry as even though he cannot understand how much my hair means to me, he hates to see me so upset over it. I'm sure when the time comes, I will grieve for a while and then make the most of all the new wigs I plan on buying. <br />
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Now that I'm up and driving again I did suggest to hubby that I could take myself to all my hospital appointments. However, yesterday and Wednesday he drove me to the scans that I had. Wednesday's scan was the polo mint scanner or a CT scan, I've had one of these before so I knew what to expect. Dye is injected into my arm and I am sent in and out of the polo mint with my arms in the air. In this case it was one arm, as I am still not able to lift my right arm up that far for that length of time. The dye goes in to your arm when the scan starts and you feel really hot in certain areas, basically it feels like you've wet yourself - not attractive but quite painless and it is over before you know it. The scan that I had yesterday was the one I felt a bit wary of as its called a Nuclear Medicine Whole Body and Bone Scan. Basically it scans from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Again I was given an injection this time it was a radioactivity injection, which was administered a few hours before the scan took place. The injection itself wasn't enough to launch me at a small country, but enough to go around the whole of my body and highlight anything that looks mysterious. This scanner came with its own armrests, and leg rests. Millions of pounds worth, It has two large square like scanners either side of the main scanner both of these fit above and below your body and slowly glide up and down. I had to laugh when I was told that an elastic band had to be placed around my feet to keep them together, however after 20 minutes trying to keep absolutely still, the elastic band did its job. The radiographer stayed with me most of the time rubbing my arm and chatting about everything and anything including our kids. I asked him if he would as I felt quite claustrophobic. As the time ticked by and the scanner did its job he explained everything that was going to happen step by step, thank God he did because at one point I thought I was going to be decapitated. This scan like the one on Wednesday was soon over and I was told Dr Smith would let me know my results of both scans shortly. I won't pretend that I have not thought about these results a million and one times, I try not to, but I will admit that since I have been diagnosed this is just something else to worry about and which I've had nightmares and sleepless nights over, thinking " What if its spread".....I know that what will be will be, and no amount of worrying will change the end result. However, all I can do is hope and pray that it is contained. <br />
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After visiting Rachel my breast care nurse and having a cuddle, we spent a couple of hours walking round shops trying to kill a few hours, before heading back and seeing Mr Javaid my plastic surgeon. This man has done such a fantastic job on my breast, that I nearly cried when we first into his office, he told me how lovely I looked and then he asked me ( and Andrew) if we were happy with my new breast. I told him how over the moon I was. this was after he has shown Andrew how he should give me a breast massage! Surreal! He also suggested that I should have a slight lift on my other breast so that they matched, along with a new nipple. This man is a miracle worker. I suggested he must love his job - he and Andrew smiled in that - silly school boy way. As I further explained - I didn't mean playing with breasts all day, but making women happy by giving them back their breasts? How wonderfully fulfilling it must be. As we left his office smiling and happy, Helen the nurse told me that the work he had done on my breast was the best she had ever seen. <br />
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So here we are - next week I should get my results then on Wednesday I am at Addenbrooks having my PICC line put in - which incidentally Andrew and I watched a video of on You Tube. Looks harmless enough............Then the next day on the Thursday it is my first chemo session...... So all in all another hectic week. Still it keeps me busy and out of trouble. <br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-68867150850699549212013-01-05T10:44:00.001-08:002013-01-05T10:45:04.202-08:00Who do you think you are?It seems to me that every day, a letter lands on the mat from the hospital. Appointments for this appointments for that, don't get me wrong the hospitals are very efficient and I know that I am in the safest possible hands. Trouble is when I do see friends and family I feel like I did when I had my children......... What I mean is, I've got nothing else to talk about. Its all about cancer and appointments, and pain and hospitals - I am sooo boring. When I had my kids it was all nappies, and birth details, albeit this was swapped with other new mums - and there is always that competition unwittingly going on of who wins the " most traumatic birth award" all the mums out there will know what I mean. We've all been there - there is always someone who had the worst time giving birth then anyone else on earth - and years later they are still going on about it. <br />
Take for instance my mum - now bear in mind I am 46, not only has she endured the worst birth in the world having my sister, but apparently I nearly finished her off. Don't even mention the word hysterectomy in front of her because 20 odd years ago when she had " the big one" and the doctors messed it up and she nearly died blah blah. I sometime wonder if she every rings me up to ask how I am or to compare notes. Don't get me wrong I am happy for people to tell me their stories - after all some people survive terrible illnesses and I for one take my hat off to them. I'm amazed at people's courage and their complete and utter single mindedness of getting their life back together after months or even years of agony. Look at the summer when we had the Para-Olympics we, along with friends and family sat around in complete and utter amazement - at the courage and determination of the competitor's, how they won medal after medal. No doubt some of them were told they would never walk, see, etc. or even lead a normal life. I am proud to know people that have told me their stories of illnesses and how their life changed and all the wonderful things they do for good causes. Me well, I ran a marathon nearly 30 years ago - and swore I would never do another. I'm not keen on sport of any kind if I'm honest, although I have done quite a bit of it in my time. The thought of climbing a mountain - drives me to the wine bottle, and those who have parachuted - I am petrified of edges. <br />
However, I want to give something back. Don't get me wrong I don't want to be seen as someone who is going to swing her wig in the air after completing a triathlon, or pose naked for a calender, nipple less on one side. No what I would like to do is what I am good at. Let me explain:<br />
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Now for those of you that don't know what I do for a living in 2011 I took my redundancy and set up my company after writing down all the skills I had. Some of them I realised would never make me any money like funny noises I can make with my ear, or making the best - barr none - roast potatoes, rest of my cooking is pretty average to be fair. Or the great way I can dance and throw shapes around the floor in bloody great big high heels - no the skills I had were planning, weddings and events, and weeding wardrobes, along with personal shopping. So I became a Wedding, event and image consultant and Woocandoo was born. I have over the last couple of years, planned great weddings, strange events, and I have come across the most fantastic outfits in women's wardrobes, that they couldn't see. I have saved money - one couple £5000 - on their big day, one lady made £400 from ebaying and dress agencies. All due to my determination, passion and bloody hard work. I am very proud to say that I am brilliant at my job and I love it. However, at the moment I have become " the lady with breast cancer" no one wants to hire me, as it may be too much for me, or it might be in the middle of treatment, etc etc. Before I went and had my mastectomy, I attended a few appointments with a view to creating a few events, one wedding and a couple of wardrobe weeds. Now I know its probably my own fault as I have written this blog and I have been very honest about the fact that I have breast cancer - but - I'm not dead, I still answer and look at my work emails, and I'm not going to be ill from chemo for ever. So if you are reading this and you have an outstanding job you think I may be interested in, or you have not replied to my emails or called me back after I have sent you a proposal, then as you can probably imagine I am a tad angry. The cancer does not control me. I am still the same person, I may have lost a breast, I may be bald next month and I may spend a couple of days feeling a bit pants after chemo, but I am still me. If I can't do the job, I will tell you. If it is inconvenient for me. We can always reschedule as I am not planning on dying anytime soon. <br />
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Anyway, I have decided that I am going to write to cancer charities and offer my services for free, as in masterclasses for woman who have been in the same situation as me, I have dealt with ladies that have had mastectomies in the past. So I am damn sure that I can do it now. That utter devastation when you don't feel feminine any more and you haven't a clue what to wear, how to feel sexy in front of your husband ( in your clothes ) and how to look good where people will admire you and your figure, and won't even talk to you about breast cancer. That is what I want to do. So for all you wonderful people out there that have raised money doing some energetic sport, or bared all for charity - I salute you. I may not make any money for cancer research, but I can certainly concentrate on helping woman pick up the pieces when they are at an all time low. <br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-58378126089957897952013-01-02T12:17:00.002-08:002013-01-02T12:17:48.747-08:00Scarves and Wigs and Sausage rollsAfter all the fun and jollity's over the Christmas and New Year - in between traipsing up and down to the hospital. I now know the following. My Heart is fine, but my liver is not. So today I have decided to start a detox. That was until the hubby came home with chocolate biscuit cake! To be fair I've only had a mouthful and I have eaten loads of fruit and drank green tea. I figure that my body needs a bit of a rest from gin, wine and everything else I have drank and eaten over the Christmas period.<br />
When I went along to see the oncologist the end of last month I was measured and weighed. Apparently I have lost 1/2 an inch in height and I've put on 2 pounds, since the last time I was weighted. Now I am clueless about the loss of 1/2 an inch, but I certainly know where the 2 pounds came from - and we still have tons of Christmas food left. My only hope is that my son - who eats us out of house and home most of the time and has size 11 boots to fill at the age of 15 - will hoover up everything else that's left including the 10 ton of sausage rolls. When I was in hospital I lost weight, and got a tad thin. Now in less then a month, that's not something I need to worry about.<br />
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On New Years Eve I had my heart checked and thankfully its fine. It had to be checked to see if it can handle all the treatment that's going to be thrown at it. So a Sister Anne called me up today and gave me my next couple of appointments. Next week I have my bone scan to see if the cancer has spread, then the following week I'm having my PICC line inserted ( to you and me that's a<span style="color: #777777; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">long, thin, flexible tube known as a catheter. It is inserted into one of the large veins of the arm near the bend of the elbow. It is then threaded into the vein until the tip sits in a large vein just above the heart.) This will sit in my arm covered in a bandage for the whole of my treatment - so until May time when the Chemo finishes. However it'll have to be checked on a weekly basis as it is prone to all sorts of problems. Anyway the following day my chemo starts ( 17th January ) I'm going to be receiving - 3 sessions of FEC and 3 Sessions of Docetaxel. Okay, for those of you that are lost FEC is made up of a combination of 3 difference drugs that along with an anti sickness drug and a saline solution is put into the PICC line at the same sitting - this will last around a hour of so. This is the one that makes me lose my hair. Then after that 3 sessions of Docetaxel a single drug that I have to have steroids with ( the day beforehand) this is the one that'll make me put on weight. So basically come May, I'm going to look bloody gorgeous. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I did get up this morning and think - I might go back to work next week, but as I've now got my next lot of treatment lined up, I don't think that' s going to happen in the foreseeable future. However, yesterday I drove the car albeit only about a mile or so. It was very strange as I don't have any muscle in my back to support my turning of the wheel etc, so I looked a bit like a learner and reversing was a bit of a nightmare let alone putting my seat belt on, but I did it and I was quite safe. Having said that I don't think I'll be driving too far in the near future but I do feel safe enough to drive up to the supermarket and the local shops. Lets just hope there's a big parking space when I get there - husband would say nothing new there then, but I wouldn't feel very confident getting into a smaller one at the minute. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, I am really pleased with my breast and how it is settling down, its still a bit swollen and sore, but at least I can get myself in and out of the shower without problems now. Although having a bath is a bit of a pain, I have to turn myself into a synchronised swimmer in order to not place too much support on my right hand and arm, but even that's getting better each day. My back is still very sore but at least I can now touch it. Still can't feel any thing in certain parts of the breast and armpit but I am getting a tingling sensation when I do touch it. I am sure that at some point I will discuss with my plastic surgeon about having a new nipple tattooed on, but I am not worried about one at the moment. </span><br />
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In general today is a good day. I had a little bit of a cry earlier after the Sister phoned me up, but I'm getting used to the hospital calling me, or letters from them landing on the mat. I've got 9 days before I have my next hospital appointment although my wig fitting should be in the next week or so. I've also sorted out a few hats and scarves to wear.<br />
In the meantime, I've worked out if everything goes to plan and I remain strong throughout the sessions. I can still go to our friend's Andrew and Karen's wedding in June in Ibiza. Its a tight time line but I remain positive. Also I've worked out that family and friends birthday's and other events I've got coming up in the next couple of months fall in between chemo so hopefully I should be well enough for these. All I need is my pink wig and some elasticated trousers and I'll be all set!<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-77275889936449227182012-12-28T13:49:00.001-08:002012-12-28T13:57:52.808-08:00On the third day of Christmas my Doctor gave to me.........So we had a good Christmas - quiet - as ironically my Mother-in-law came down with flu and so it ended up being just the 4 of us after all. I was, however spoilt rotten as were we all. I ate too much and drunk to the excess and fell into bed exhausted and content. Boxing day passed pretty much the same and then came the hospital appointment yesterday.<br />
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First of all I met the Oncologist Dr Sarah Smith and ironically she had the nicest head of hair I have ever seen. I couldn't stop staring at how gorgeous it was. I continued to stare when she discussed putting in for the "Hereditary cancer gene" test. She told me she would make arrangements for the paperwork to be sent to me, however as I am aware that most cancers are not hereditary I was not unduly worried. She however continued to tell me that the test - if it is offered to me - would involve a simple blood test, yet it would take a couple of months for the results to come through - bet Sharon Osbourne never had that long to wait! Unfortunately, Katie my daughter - who we had promised to take to the sales afterwards - sat in on the appointment. Dr Smith told her she shouldn't worry as all my female family that had died of breast cancer had been in their late 40's. She is only 17, but I am 46! <br />
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She then went on to discuss how large the mass of cancer that had been removed from my breast was, along with the fact that even though everything was taken away along with the lymph nodes, the cancer that I had was very fast growing and if I had some particles floating about my body cells that were too small to see under scrutiny, then it was possible that other parts of my body could quickly become infected. So in this instance I was to have a bone and brain scan in the next week or so and further treatment would start within the next fortnight. She then asked me if I wanted to know that with the type of cancer that I had, what my odds were for survival? I blinked a few times and quickly told her that I had decided that I didn't want to know. I just stated that I am sure the good old NHS have got my back and I would take my chances and have the treatment. <br />
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This involves 6 sessions of chemotherapy every three weeks over the course of around 4 months as long as I am up to it. A cardiology appointment has been booked for New Years Eve to ensure that my heart is strong enough to take the treatment. The first 3 sessions involve some very invasive chemo made up of a cocktail of three different types of drugs being put into a line - which I will have to have surgically inserted at Addenbrooks hospital in the next week or so under a local anaesthetic - this would go into a main artery through my arm and into my chest. This line would stay in for the whole of my treatment.<br />
Dr Smith told me that my hair would fall out completely within 2 to 3 weeks after the first session of chemo. So I get to have a wig fitting beforehand. I was then told about the other side effects I can expect - joy! All I can say is hopefully I won't get them all. <br />
Then the last three sessions are a different type of chemo. Apparently all this is the best chemo that money can buy. <br />
We also touched on the radiotherapy I would have, again quite invasive everyday for 3 weeks. This will be administered to the breast I have had reconstructed and near my collarbone, as this is the next lot of lymph nodes that could be infected. After this I have to stay on hormone drugs for 5 years and have regular check ups. <br />
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Now although none of this is a surprise to me, it now seems real - very real. I didn't realise the urgency of my condition and the speed of which my cancer can grow. I also didn't think that the possibility of waking up and finding my hair on the pillow would be a reality, I thought it was just something that people said to be scaremongery, not a fact. <br />
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I asked Dr Sarah Smith what the good news was? She just did that small laugh that people do when they don't have any answers. Lastly, she asked if there was any questions, I looked at my daughter and my husband and muttered something about having to take everything in. She nodded her head and agreed. I then signed my life away once more on a piece of paper that says the aim is to cure. Blah Blah Blah. <br />
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When we emerged from Dr Smith's office I went to the toilet and wept, I wept because Dr Smith had lovely hair and mine was going to be gone in a matter of weeks, I wept because she delivered everything to me in a perfectly simple way that I could understand - and I understood too well everything she was saying. I wept even more because my daughter was in the room and had heard everything that her mum had to go through and I wept because I thought I can't snap out of this and make light of it. I wanted to wallow in self pity, but I had got to put being a mother first. So I dried my eyes and came out and got into the car all dignified, even though I was dying inside.<br />
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All three of us went to a cafe in Bedford and I couldn't help myself I broke down in tears and so did Kate. My husband had tears in his eyes as he rushed around getting serviettes for us to dry our eyes on. The cafe was packed but none of us could help ourselves. An argument broke out, as I kept apologising to Kate telling her I should never have let her come into the office and hear all of what was said. She told me she was 17 and it was her right to know what was happening with her mum. <br />
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I knew that if she wasn't there I would have sorted myself out and told both the children a watered down version when I got home. The fact was she had heard and I knew it was pointless to keep it from my son as she insisted that he was told. So we told him - and scared the bloody life out of him. Andrew and I argued he walked out. I shouted at the children. <br />
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Half an hour later when we had all calmed down and Andrew asked me how I felt, numb was the words that came to mind. I didn't want to tell any one as quite frankly I couldn't be bothered. Close friends texted and asked I told them to read my blog. Family called and I told Andrew to talk to them. <br />
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Today, I am still wallowing in self pity. I have eaten Christmas pudding for my tea, and I have washed my pain killers down with red wine. I've cuddled the kids, and the cat. I've hung on to my husband - wordlessly. <br />
I know that I will come out of this very soon - but not today. Today is for me to feel sorry for myself. Tomorrow - with a bit of luck - I'll be back to my old positive self, cracking jokes and looking forward to the future. The future that WILL involve me being Cancer free and watching my children grow up. A future where I won't be scared to live each day without worrying if its spread, If its come back or if its hiding somewhere, waiting to pop up when I least expect it. Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-20751565782924697092012-12-22T04:20:00.000-08:002012-12-22T04:39:57.557-08:00All I want for Christmas is a new boob...........So here I am three days before Christmas up and about and more or less pain free. ( I have my medication under control) A little bit blonder ( Courtesy of Carrie from Hair Perfection) and a little bit wiser. I've got ruby red glittery nails ( Courtesy of Donna of Smart nails) and I'm feeling more or less normal.<br />
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I've spent far to much money on presents for some people and not enough for others - just blame the drugs. However I have managed to sit on the floor and wrap them, but its escaped me to post any Christmas cards to anyone. I wrote lists for the food and "to do lists" I managed to catch up with East Enders and paid all the bills but I forgot to send out the blooming Christmas cards! All the food and booze has now been purchased but I know there still some bits I have forgotten - I just can't think what.<br />
My in laws have decided to come for Christmas dinner, not sure if you remember, but my father in law was having a hard time after having Radiotherapy. They managed to drive over here last Sunday, they had hardly been out for weeks - my mother in law stated that Andrex can have their shares back now. However, we still ensured a safe path to our loo if he needed it while they were here. Anyway, over bacon sandwiches and mince pies we asked them if they would come for Christmas as always. ( My Dad who is coming up for 80 is spending the day with my sister and my nieces are probably spending it with boyfriends. Mum lives in New Zealand so that's not going to happen. How time change.) Anyway, the proviso is that we get in plenty of toilet roll and I don't lift a finger to cook as Andrew and my mother in law have agreed to make the dinner between them. I hesitantly agreed but as I've always maintained - no one touches the roast potatoes. THAT IS MY JOB. No cancer or anything else for that matter is going to stop me from making the roasties, no man or beast dare even try!<br />
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I've been to the hospital twice this week, once to have my dressings changed - thank god, and again yesterday for my results. The surgeon ( who took away the cancer and lymph nodes) asked to take a look, so after all the dressings were taken off the words " Look at that" made my eyes water. I cannot believe how fantastic my breast looks. Everything has taken and the skin that was cut from my back has blended in and made my breast look wonderful. My side and armpit are still really swollen, and my back where they took the muscle and the skin still really hurts, however everything is coming together really well. My arm where the nerve and lymph nodes have been removed, is getting better every day. I can lift my arm above my head and the feeling is slowly coming back, but the best thing is that they got all the cancer. The tumour that they took out of the breast was 8cm, but only 4 out of 10 of the lymph nodes were infected. Basically this means that the cancer didn't spread to anywhere else.<br />
I will still have to have chemotherapy and other treatments, but the cancer I have will be receptive to hormone drugs which is great news, so there is a good chance that I can be cured. Obviously I will have to wait 5 years to hear that news but with all the checks and treatment coming up I am very hopeful. <br />
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I see the oncologist the day after Boxing day to find out when treatment starts, but until then life is good.<br />
I'll also get an appointment with the plastic surgeon within the next month so he can see his amazing work. I then get to discuss having a new nipple. Apparently a machine can tattoo the areola - how amazing is that? <br />
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The day after coming out of hospital I booked a hall and I've arranged a New Years eve party, so all the wonderful people that are in our life can all get together. I figure that by then even I can look half decent if I get a dress that covers my boob but still shows that I've got two! Also I want to end the year on a good note and maybe I'll be well enough to have a bit of a boogie! After all you've got to look forward, haven't you!<br />
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<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-68210736261468034002012-12-16T09:03:00.001-08:002012-12-16T09:03:43.787-08:00Its me and I look the sameHi everyone, sorry I haven't wrote for a while. I have been through every emotion, pain, happiness, sadness, you name it I've been through it. I feel more on a even keel now. Morphine free I think. So I want to tell you how its been for me and everyone around me in the last 10 days. However, I don't want this to appear to be a sad recollection of my time in hospital. So I will just give you a brief synopsis of how it was. First of all I just want you to see a letter that I sent a couple of days ago to the Director of Nursing. On Tuesday I will be meeting up with this lady after I have been to the Breast Clinic to have my dressing looked at. Anyway here is the letter:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">To whom this may concern </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I arrived on the Richard Wells ward as a surgical patient on
the 6<sup>th</sup> December 2012 at 7.30am I was booked in for Breast Surgery,
a mastectomy with a Latissimus Dorsi Reconstruction. This is where the problems
started. I was told by a lovely apologetic nurse that unfortunately there was
not a bed available for me, but she was working hard at trying to find me one –
I didn't doubt it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, in the meantime we were left in the staff
room – it was quite comfortable but I felt that the staff although very
pleasant and apologetic to my husband and me, felt uncomfortable eating their
food and taking their breaks with us sitting in there – and quite rightly so we
ourselves kept apologising. However, by the time we spent a considerable amount
of hours in the staff room it had became quite apparent that the Richard Wells
ward had more problems than just a lack of bed space.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">During my stay, I experienced a great deal of pain because
staff did not have the time to attend to me. On the second night I waited hours
for my morphine to be topped up. Admittedly, this is quite sketchy in the
amount of time, but no one could get another cannula into my arm or hand.
However, I know I was left for a good few hours as I was panicking and texting
my husband. In the end I asked for a doctor but again I waited for ages and
indeed it took a while for her to fit it as well. Circumstances that shouldn’t
have happened if the members of staff involved hadn’t been so busy
elsewhere. This may seem like an old
cliché that you read about in the papers or watch on the television, however
the medical staff that were involved were never at any time at fault – but when
you experience this first hand it is without a shadow of a doubt the most soul
destroying, inhuman experience to every happen to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I watched nurses on the Sunday running around like headless chickens;
they could not keep up with the patients needs. When you are surrounded by
people in pain, phones ringing, buzzers continually going off and cries of
“help me” when you yourself are in agony, words cannot begin to describe how I
felt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nurses were apologising left right and centre and there was
no time for one on one patient care. I felt guilty ringing my buzzer asking for
pain relief, I was constipated, I was desperately in need of a jug of water and
my bed was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t move – and quite frankly I was not
the only one!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The old lady in the bed next to me pleaded with me to help
her – and I couldn’t. She along with the young girl the other side of me needed
to go to the toilet. Suzy was running backwards and forwards between both of
them. At one point in-between pleading, the old lady messed the bed. This was
at lunch time – I could not eat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The woman opposite also kept crying out in pain and – as I
sat in the middle of all this, I eventually managed to stagger over to pull my
curtains as I did not want to see anymore. I put my earphones in and cried and
cried. After an hour or so of crying Suzy managed to pop her head around the
curtain and ask me if I was okay and did I need to talk. I told her that that
would be lovely but she didn’t have time did she? She shrugged and smiled and
again apologised.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was sick of hearing Sarah and Suzy saying to everyone
“Sorry I’ll be there in a minute” “Sorry no we don’t have any more beds” or “I’ll
be there as soon as I can” Sarah left her shift and handed over without being
able to change my dressing – which she had been promising me all day, or to
give me a suppository. I know she tried
her very best to get to me and did indeed hand over this information to the
next nurse. However, by the time my husband turned up later I was in complete
meltdown crying and generally so upset about what I had seen and heard, and my
complete experience of the day. I had the total realisation that each and
every member of the staff on the ward, was, despite their best efforts unable
to make a difference in patient care. Quite simply, they are too overstretched,
too exhausted and too emotionally drained.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Ironically I have
no doubt that the sickness record on this ward alone throughout the staff is
extremely high. I just hope that none of them end up on this ward. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In short, something must be done. I never want this
terrible experience to happen to anyone else – and yet I know this is an
everyday occurrence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Wendie Webb </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In patient 6<sup>th</sup> December – 12<sup>th</sup>
December 2012</span></div>
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So you see, that was my experience in hospital - don't get me wrong the whole team were fantastic. On that particular evening I was moved to my own room so I could get away from all the noise.Not that I asked for it, I think the sister on duty took one look at me and decided I needed some sleep as I was exhausted.<br />
I had three drains in, one in my breast, and two in my back. After a good nights sleep one of my drains was taking out and I started to feel a bit more like me again - except for the pain. This was controlled better after I moved to my own room - thank god.<br />
After 2 more days on the Wednesday I had the other 2 drains out, my dressings changed and I was allowed to go home. My Breast care nurse Rachel pulled a few strings and came to the conclusion that I would be better off in my own environment.<br />
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Here I am now in my own home - yes its been difficult, however the house looks great, all the Christmas decorations are up. Hubby and kids have been cooking and cleaning and running the house and me.<br />
I did wash my hair practically on my own today, can't wait to have a proper shower or bath after my dressings are off. I can sleep - albeit we have had to change sides of the bed with hubby - on my left side now. Lying down is painful as you can imagine as I have had a flap of skin and a large muscle taken out of my back, but I am getting stronger everyday. My reconstructed breast is amazing. It's extremely swollen and so is under my arm pit where all my lymph nodes were removed.. However it is looking good already. With my clothes on no one would ever know. I have to exercise my arm and my shoulder which is painful - but a must.<br />
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Who would have thought that 9 days after a mastectomy I would have been Christmas shopping. No I'm not cooking or cleaning yet, and it will be a few weeks before I can drive, but give me time. This Friday I get my results, and I am hoping that the cancer has only spread to the one lymph node and not to any of the others they removed. I knew that they took quite a bit of cancer away from inside my breast as they informed me afterwards. Hopefully the next stage of my fight will be containment, but whatever it brings I've got my tremendous family and friends who I know will be there for me every step of the way - just as they always have been.<br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-37187849205299187182012-12-04T08:34:00.001-08:002012-12-04T08:39:30.174-08:00Everybody's changing and I don't feel the same<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUw2M9YR4u_VBs9y927x3p_4_Zv1q1IkuLe_O_Ls77B2guVqrQ5IXMtoC9hL-yDFjMXDWWqHbLAIwBDyW1Eq4T0RprgRscNgJyKqhE4X4dYYR1zGLtz1pPVBwufcuWipMy7lXcdp_cRRQ/s1600/happy+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a>Today as the big op draws near I have cancelled all my plans. Plans which involved meeting up with friends. Don't get me wrong I'm not sitting here feeling sorry for myself - reason is I'm sick to death of talking about cancer. Granted no one prepares you for how you're going to feel, you have to just get on with it. No - what's worse is there isn't anyone who can tell you how to deal with those around you, those special people who you love. Each and every one of them is different and no booklet, leaflet or professional who specialises in cancer can tell you how to deal with them - they don't know them like I do. At this present moment in time - my husband who is always 100 miles an hour is asleep on the sofa - it is 8.15 in the morning. He looks shot to bits. When I talk to him he tells me he is so worried about me but he is exhausted. My son who is a very private 15 year old, hovered around me last night and kept hugging me, as we sat down he poured out how sad and scared he is. We talked and talked and have done our best to convince him that mum will be okay, he tells me that we have been here before and he is sick of it. My heart breaks a bit more for him and I cling to this tall man-child who is so brave yet so fretful, his eyes glistening with unshed tears and I curse cancer for doing this to him. My daughter is in bed, I took one look at her exhausted white face this morning and told her to go back there. Filled up a hot water bottle and tucked her back under the covers. When we talked to her last night she tells me that she is not worried for me as she knows what a fighter I am, but her face tells another story - she is trying to be brave and carry on as if nothing has changed - but everything has changed. Apart from the fact that I cannot make this right for my immediate family. I also have friends and family in shock, friends that cannot talk to me as they break down in tears. Parents that are in disbelief that their daughter has got to go through this again and a sister that doesn't have a clue what she and my nieces should say to me. This horrible illness affects everyone - and I cannot make it better for any any of them.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUw2M9YR4u_VBs9y927x3p_4_Zv1q1IkuLe_O_Ls77B2guVqrQ5IXMtoC9hL-yDFjMXDWWqHbLAIwBDyW1Eq4T0RprgRscNgJyKqhE4X4dYYR1zGLtz1pPVBwufcuWipMy7lXcdp_cRRQ/s1600/happy+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUw2M9YR4u_VBs9y927x3p_4_Zv1q1IkuLe_O_Ls77B2guVqrQ5IXMtoC9hL-yDFjMXDWWqHbLAIwBDyW1Eq4T0RprgRscNgJyKqhE4X4dYYR1zGLtz1pPVBwufcuWipMy7lXcdp_cRRQ/s320/happy+image.jpg" width="320" /></a>I am worn down and stressed out by looking at those around me. I want to rant and rage and scream because my children should not have to go through this again. My husband's shoulders only have a certain broadness to them and my poor dad who is 80 next year does not know what to say to his little girl. My mum well she lives in New Zealand and I cannot imagine how she feels.<br />
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So all I can do is remain cheerful, stay positive and keep fighting for all those close to me. I am bloody well damned if I am going to let this stop me from living my live with the people that I love. I cannot allow anyone or anything to change my mindset, all the wonderful support I have had is immense but at the end of the day I've got to do this myself. <br />
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Tomorrow is my last day until I go in for the operation. I've got a list as long as my arm on last minute bits I've got to do. So on Thursday I just have to get up and go to the hospital. I am assured that very good care will be taken of me. I just hope that while I'm away very good care will be taken of my family..........<br />
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<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0Flitwick, Bedford, Central Bedfordshire MK45, UK52.0036506 -0.495233452.0012066 -0.5001689 52.0060946 -0.4902979tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-38956233551034415862012-12-02T14:34:00.001-08:002012-12-02T14:34:14.489-08:00Thanks for the memoriesThis week's been one of the best week's ever. I've been spoilt rotten, taken out, taken away and had fantastic presents, cards and great words of love and friendship. In between all this frivolity, I've had blood taken, an ECG, x ray and just about every other test you can think of. I've been asked question after question about family history, past illnesses and medications that I'm taking. In between all this I've managed to have a laugh with all the nurses and doctors who've seen me, we've played guess the weight of the boob. ( Obviously I will of course lose weight when its gone ) bit of a strange way to lose weight but well beggars can't be choosers So that'll be at least 4 pounds I reckon!<br />
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Today while hubby and I were on our weekend away, in-between Christmas shopping - I really must stop spending now - I found a shocking pink wig for when I start chemo - my son was not impressed, especially after I wore it with my black ear muffs to show him how cool his mum looked. I've also purchased a shocking pink sports bra that I'm taking in to the hospital to wear after the operation. I've also got some shocking pink false nails that I plan to wear as soon as I am able to. More new pyjamas, Christmas socks and to top it all a Christmas gift bag to put my chest drains in. So I think I'm all set. I did however draw the line at the Christmas nipple covers we saw in Ann Summers, although my husband was all for it!<br />
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I just hope that I can keep up with my positive attitude. If I'm honest I'm fed up with waiting, its been more than a month since I found out and even though I'm trying to stay upbeat, a couple of times today I've felt a bit tearful. I've watched women go by with fabulous hair and I've looked at all the beautiful underwear in the shops that I can't wear for a while but most of all, last night in the hotel after we came back from the fantastic restaurant that Andrew had booked we got chatting to a couple in the hotel bar. They had just taken early retirement aged 60 and were planning to spend the winter in Spain. All I could think was - am I going to get old with Andrew? Will we ever be in the situation where we can go away when we retire? Will I see my children grow up? Silly I know, I've got the mind set that I just want my boob taken away and replaced with a new one that isn't going to kill me but it doesn't make it any easier. When I look at myself in the mirror naked and see what I've always seen albeit a large scar running from just below my sternum to my pubic bone. I wonder what it will really be like this new boob will the scars heal as well and as quick as I did last time on both my chest and my back? Will the new boob be a good match, and will it look okay when I dressed and when I'm naked?<br />
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So I've decided that I'm not going to read any more leaflets and booklets on breast cancer as it depresses the hell out of me. Instead Andrew has bought me Miranda Hart's - Manuel for life, and I downloaded Mr Buble's Christmas album on my I pod. So unless he decides to turn up at my bedside and serenade me, I think I've got everything I possibly need to keep me upbeat and Christmassy. I just wonder if I'll be able to watch the X Factor final without my normal glass of wine in my hospital bed?<br />
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So this time next week, I'll have a new boob albeit no nipple, my pain should be controlled and I'll be thinking about coming home to see how the kids have decorated the tree and the house. To be fair at this present moment in time the house being decorated seems more daunting. So hopefully once we get this big hurdle out of the way ( the boob not the Christmas Deck's ) I'll then have the 2 and a half week wait till I get the results. So I'd best be prepared for that. One step at a time Wendie - one step at a time.....................<br />
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<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-91782614754123850322012-11-27T03:48:00.000-08:002012-11-27T03:48:20.289-08:00Preparation is keyYesterday I went along to the Primrose suite at the hospital. First of all Hubby and I were really confused by the chirpy ladies on reception. There they were chatting and laughing, to be fair I wanted to say " Er excuse me" but then I realised - well its not meant to be a morgue is it!<br />
We took a seat and checked out the fish tank, well Andrew did. I walked round and saw all the books and leaflets on cancer and chemotherapy which to be fair is perfectly normal to me now.<br />
After a short wait we were called up by my nurse Rachel, shown to a lovely room and immediately offered a cup of tea. I had brought a list of questions ranging from what cancer do I have - multifocal grade 2 invasive ductal carcinoma with metastatic in the axillary nodes. Which to you and me means the cancer is in one area, but we don't know how big it is. The type of cancer is fast growing it's spread to at least one lymph node, but its a common cancer. So once the operation is done and everything is tested, I will get my results two weeks after whereas they will put all of my statistics into a computer and it'll come up what type of treatment to have - which is aimed to cure me - amazing really. So two and a half weeks later I will be told what the future holds. I will be with the hospital for at least 5 years, but they are hoping that the treatment should take only 6 to 9 months, depending on the statistics.<br />
Anyway, I then asked Rachel a few more questions and had a little bit of a chat about my feelings. Which to be fair is mainly on the side of how bloody inconvenient this is at this time of year. As a control freak I wanted to get the house ready for Christmas and guests etc. I am convinced I will still be okay over Christmas and chemotherapy won't start until after. However not sure if I could rock a bald head for New Year's Eve! Although having said that on the way out -armed with loads more booklets - I am thinking of starting my own cancer publications library. We were taken to the wig department and the wigs........wow! There were at least 4 of them I'd quite happily wear. The room itself is made up like a little beauty salon with a dressing table and mirror for the fittings, while we were there I was also given a leaflet on pampering therapy entitled - Look good- Feel better, it's based around a complimentary make up workshop that I can go to - and I get a free goody bag full of make up - happy days. I was also given a swimwear and underwear brochure although pricey some of it was very glamorous and I thought now you're talking. This having cancer lark is not too bad, wigs, free make up, new boob, what more could a girl ask for? <br />
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Through all of this my husband and children have kept abreast (no pun intended) of what has been going on. I sat the children down again yesterday and gave them an update of what's happening. My son pondered everything we had told him and asked " when you go bald, please tell me you're not going to get a really wacky wig?" To which I replied " Of course I am Con this is my chance to look really outlandish, I want a purple and pink one. I will never get this chance again, to be able to express the real me" He looked at me - sniffed then asked if we could have sausage and mash for tea.<br />
My daughter Katie is happy that even though I can't drive we can have a girls day in for her birthday the week before Christmas. Popcorn, hot chocolate and a movie day!<br />
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My husband Andrew hugs and kisses me everyday as if his life depends on it, we joke ( as always) that I am a selfish cow for getting cancer, but after Rachel has told him I would probably only be in the hospital a maximum of 5 days tops he is slightly annoyed that he won't get the bed to himself for long to perfect his starfish impressions, but on the other hand he is relieved as he tells me he won't have to cook, clean, work and look after the kids for too long on his own - as it will be all too much for him...... I raise an eyebrow and we collapse into giggles. Laughter is never in short supply in our house.<br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-50116953444040821672012-11-24T09:46:00.000-08:002012-11-24T09:46:00.712-08:00Brave and beautifulThis week I have had the pleasure of spending time with some lovely people. First there was the wonderful lady who invited me to her home and showed me her boobs. Now that doesn't happen every day, but if you hold the C Card apparently it's a regular occurrence. I have to say they looked so fantastic - they made me cry. She then showed me last month's Sun newspaper where she and her hubby along with 2 other couples appeared topless in a centre spread. I found myself having to take a step back from embracing this lovely woman - who after all didn't know me, but had the good grace to allow me to tell her how fantastic I thought she was. When I left her house over two hours later, I realised this would not be my first encounter with a brave and beautiful woman, who'd overcome Breast Cancer. <br />
Whenever you see pictures of woman and indeed men who have come through this terrible ordeal, or are in fact coming through it, it seems to me they all have one thing in common - a radiant smile.<br />
Yesterday, I went over to see my father in law who's just finished his last course of radiotherapy. In the summer he had a large operation for Bowel Cancer, and this time the treatment was for prostate cancer. I was anxious to see him, as we hadn't seen either my Mother or Father in Law for a while as he hadn't been up to it. We knew that he would be weak, and we had joked that we would clear the way pretty quickly as he had the toilet 2 step - as we called it, and would continue to do so over the next three months because of his treatment. I had begged my husband not to tell them about my diagnosis, as apart from the fact that my husband's uncle - ( My father in law's brother ) has terminal cancer. I felt they didn't need me to add to the mix. Little did I know that my husband felt awful for lying to them. So in the end we agreed to tell them. I have spent quite a few phone calls where they are trying to be cheerful because of their situation, and I'm trying to be cheerful because of my situation - oh the bloody mindless things we do so as not to worry our nearest and dearest.<br />
During our visit yesterday, after hugs and kisses we skirted round each other' s illnesses -so as to not upset anyone. Then finally after a cup of tea and a slice of cake, we decided to plunge right in. We compared notes and talked about wigs and the beeping of radiotherapy machines. Biopsies, and our aches and pains, and all through this there was one thing that stayed at the forefront of my mind. My Father in law told me that in the radiotherapy suite where he went everyday for his treatment, all the people who were having the same treatment, were always happy and smiling cracking jokes and nobody came away - least of all him - feeling sad.<br />
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The lady who showed me her boobs earlier in the week had told me the same thing. The unit where she'd received her therapy was a happy, tight knit place. She had told me that these people had become her friends.<br />
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All through our visit with my in laws all I saw was my Father in law's radiant smile. He laughed and joked even though it was obvious he was in discomfort, and as I looked at both of them I realised that they were overcome with worry about me, and I was overcome with worry about them.<br />
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As I sit here typing - an old clinch I know - but I can't help thinking that if this people can get through it, so can I, the grand dads, the Mother's the Sisters, Aunts and Brothers, and all the wonderful people that have battled this terrible illness.<br />
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Last week during Children in Need we sat - my husband and I over a glass of wine or two, and as I watched a mother with 3 young children prepare them and herself for her inevitable death, I turned to my husband and said, " Just to get one thing straight, I'll never get like that - I'll know if it comes to it when there is time to stop treatment and not have my body swell up like hers, enough is enough" but of course now I know that she never stopped fighting, and even though at the end she was swollen up. She was still their mum and all the time she was alive she carried on being mum. But thinking back now I realised that she - even though she had accepted the inevitable - still had this radiant smile on her face.<br />
Hopefully my cancer, will never get to this stage as my nurse has told me the aim is to cure. But I aim to battle - yes I bloody well do, and like I told my son today when he was embarrassed to sit in McDonald's with me. "There will come a time when I am going to be very weak and have no hair, but I still might want to go out, how embarrassed are you going to be then?" - to which he replied " I'm not going to be embarrassed to go out with you if your bald mum, there's no shame in having cancer" I looked at him and realised that whatever happens I'm still his mum, I'm still a sister a daughter, a wife and an aunt - so I owe it to all these people including my friends to just bloody well get on with it. After all there are people out there that are worst off then me. They might not have cancer but some of them don't have a family and friends....... I know what I'd prefer!<br />
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<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-29113584367282261042012-11-20T09:51:00.004-08:002012-11-20T09:51:29.944-08:00Cups of TeaWhen I had my last operation 3 years ago. I waited 6 weeks, 6 weeks all over the summer as the tumour in my stomach got bigger and bigger. The amount of tea friends and family got through as we sat around the kitchen table waiting for the operation was phenomenal. <br />
This time I am continuing work, as I'm self employed I can do so. I also don't have anyone to tell me I have to produce a sick note all the time in order to get paid. The fact of the matter is - I just don't get paid - but hey ho you can't have everything. Good points are as I work within the wedding industry - things quieten down this time of year anyway. Also as a great plus point I look normal. (?) No large stomach and questions about when its due.<br />
Bad points are - no I don't get paid, and I have to ensure I am fit for work as soon as. Hence I have already booked in work leading up to next Autumn. So in my mind, wig, false eyelashes and lovely drawn on eyebrows and just like now - nobody will know I have cancer.<br />
However, I am under no illusions that it will be easy, so for the sake of bad days. Which I won't have a clue about. I have decided that I will sit with the cat and catch up on all the thriller books I have tucked away upstairs, watch catch up TV, feel sorry for myself and drink tea.<br />
When I was in pain after my last operation, waiting to heal. I still managed to put my make up on and look good - even if I didn't see anyone all day. So whether I feel sorry for myself or not - I will still be wearing lipstick, and when I go bald I will ensure I have a great hat or scarf sitting by the front door in case someone pops in and joins me for a cup of tea. After all not only was I was raised to coordinate, I was raised to always make the tea. My daughter is the same.<br />
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For those of you that have been following my blog you'll be pleased to know that I have done quite a bit of Christmas shopping and sorted out a few bits and pieces that were floating round my head. I've not ruled out going out for dinner Christmas Day, think I still have a bit of time to sort that one - I have asked the kids and either way they are fine. Andrew not so keen - after all he'll probably be paying!<br />
So what with that and booking in a last minute book club with the girls. My next move is to make sure my roots aren't grey when I go in for the operation! Imagine the plastic surgeon looking at nicely painted toes and finger nails, threaded eyebrows. plucked and waxed bits and bobs and grey roots! He would be horrified. Especially as he wears nice hand made suits. I wouldn't want to let the side down.<br />
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Yesterday, I went out to buy a sports bra, hmmm not happy they don't come with lace. I've also been told that my PJ's have to be buttoned , so that they can open up as I won't be able to lift up my arm. Buttoned up PJ's seriously? Oh well as long as they coordinate I suppose that's the main thing. Also it will give my visitors something to laugh at whilst they drink their vending machine tea.<br />
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Now to fake tan beforehand or not........................<br />
<br />Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-80081916378496335002012-11-15T13:06:00.001-08:002012-11-15T13:06:26.034-08:00Limbo LandThis morning after another sleepless night I found it extremely difficult getting out of the bed. Don't get me wrong I'm a miserable cow first thing in the morning any way, but this was not a morning like that, this was like I had flu. Even brushing my hair was a monumental task.<br />
I decided that I was going to sit on the sofa and have a do nothing day, and what did that bring me - guilt! Guilt that I hadn't done anything and believe me there's a long list. Lets take for instance Christmas - I've bought 2 presents. Normally I'd have got the lot by now. My daughter has her birthday the week before Christmas and I haven't even got her a card yet. I have, however got my mother in laws present, unfortunately we've had to cancel all the plans that were made for her - its her 70th, as I go into hospital that same weekend. How inconsiderate of me!<br />
Another round of guilt that keeps me awake at night is, who's going to cook the Christmas dinner? My family have all said don't worry about it this year, just have the four of you and the cat, the kids are older now so they won't mind. This has made me really angry. Even though they are 15 and nearly 17. I still love to carry out all the little traditions. Stockings left on the bed, wrapping the presents to match the colour of the tree (yes sad I know) Cooking eggs benedict and serving bucks fizz for breakfast. The list goes on. It even includes shouting up the stairs every half an hour on Christmas Eve whereabouts in the world Santa is as I follow him on Google. The kids obviously just raise their eyebrows at me. We've had the same conversation for the last couple of years. "Mum you know there's no Father Christmas don't you?" Me " Well then you won't get any present will you! You know he'll use his magic key to get in the house to leave them" At which point, including my husband they laugh quietly and let me get on with it. The truth is Christmas is precious in my house, its a time for friends to come round Christmas Eve for a mulled wine 'home made' mince pies and shortbread. How the bugger am I going to pull that off this year? Andrew says the same thing to me over and over. " Don't worry about it just concentrate on getting yourself better, the kids and I will sort everything out" this makes me even more worried, poor Andrew and the kids how will they cope. I need to be able to support them, how can I put them through this again. Unfortunately, I am a control freak. When I had my last operation I came home and started mopping the kitchen floor. So there is no hope for me really.<br />
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One thing I have let go of (sort off) is decorating the Christmas tree. When I told Andrew and the kids that it would be really nice if they put it up whilst I was in hospital, they all just looked at me - " Mum you are joking, you'll only come home and moan that we hadn't done it property and change it" I said " No I wouldn't" but I know and they know that I would, when no ones looking obviously. That's why every year they put balls and other decorations on my gorgeous work of art, that don't match my colour scheme and I know they do it. They all sit around sniggering, as I moan " who put the gold/silver/red ball on there?"<br />
So this time I plead " Can't you just do this one thing for me this year and match the tree in - please, I've got Breast cancer" but no they still snigger, pat me on the head (my son) and say " course we will" whilst exchanging smirking glances. So even that's going to keep me awake at night now!<br />
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Other things that keep me awake apart from - has the cancer spread? Do they really have to take my breast off, can't they just zap it?............ and that all time classic..... are they sure I've got cancer maybe they've got it wrong? All mingle in together along with the should I be eating or drinking that? Will drinking coffee, eating red meat etc. make it spread? So all this waiting around is excruciating. I've got another three weeks yet.<br />
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Trying to act normal and continue to work is difficult, yesterday, I went to see someone - suited and booted as usual, to give them a proposal on some events they'd like me to do. Do they know, I think? Are they not going give me the job because they think I won't be able to handle it in-between all the treatment? After all who would hire a woman waiting to have treatment for breast cancer? Then, I think am I kidding myself here, am I going to be able to handle it? I've already put my life on hold before, but didn't I read somewhere that the hospital can fit my chemotherapy and radiotherapy in around my work? Or did I just make that up? What if Andrew isn't busy how are we going to survive money wise? Round and round my head go these questions as I lay there at night.....but maybe the biggest thing that worries me and its really petty but I don't care I can't help worrying about it is - if I put on weight or lose it, will my new boob stay the same? Or will it grow and shrink the same as the other one? After all when I lose weight or put it on, my boobs are the first place to show. Especially when I put on weight and stand in front of my husband, you can see the pure delight in his eyes as I say " My god my boobs are huge." " Yep" he says like the cat that's got the cream..............Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-701814496182013081.post-52070874546219194972012-11-13T10:53:00.001-08:002012-11-13T10:53:12.261-08:00Isn't it ironic - don't ya think!Today I got to thinking that after hearing " Isn't it ironic" twice in one day, that I wonder why God doesn't share luck out fairly? Or in fact why he gives bad luck to some more than others? As I was working at the office today, I mentioned this to Kim, she looked me in the eye and said what I would have said " Because you're strong and you can take it" Don't get me wrong I could sink into a pity party here, but I think I'm going to need a few of those on other days in the future. Even so, certain thoughts run through my mind -such as - how much stronger do I have to fucking be? Not that I would wish this on my worst enemy but come on, if there is a god, is this some sort of test and have I still not bloody well passed? Am I going to have a wonderful rich life when I'm older? Or is this some sort of leveller after marrying a great man, and this is Gods way of saying - you've had a bit too much good luck Wendie, and to be fair we've got to chuck you a couple of major catastrophics to make up for it? I hope there is a God, because when it is finally my time - we will be having words.....<br />
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Yesterday, I joined the "official cancer club" I phone Macmillan and registered myself as a cancer sufferer. Makes a change that I didn't have to pay a subscription, normally when I register for anything these days - as I'm self employed there is always someone who is ready to take your money. Having said that, I have got a blinder of an excuse now. Let me give you an example, this week alone I have had, Yell, Facebook and Thompson Local call me on the business line. Normal spill happens when they rattle on about their fantastic offers and don't let you get a word in edgeways to say no. I usually carry on working, or if I'm at home I sort the whites from the colours and load the washing machine as well as sticking the kettle on. I've been know to watch a whole episode of " Homes under the Hammer" and eat my lunch on one occasion with Thompson Local. Any how, now I just blurt out very loudly " Can I just stop you there I have just been diagnosed with Breast Cancer and I can't commit to anything at the moment" This is then followed by a mumbled apology and a CLICK BURRRRRR as the phone goes down. It's brilliant I recommend anyone who is close to me to use it. Hubby to N Power, Daughter to PPL. So if anyone out there wants to use the breast cancer card and use me as an excuse of not shedding out loads of money - please do.<br />
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Finally, I spoke to Rachel yesterday and told her my decision that I wanted to have the mastectomy and reconstruction done all in one go. So now the letter is on its way out to me to confirm the date and time etc. This should arrive the day before the operation as the NHS tend to use Timbucktoo postage. Anyhow, after visiting Holland and Barrett, and Boots and asking about an alternative to HRT ( I've had to come off it) Primrose oil seems to be the only thing I can take as the hot flushes and night sweats are taking hold. So when I asked Rachel whether I could take anything, she basically told me that I have to get on with it until after my treatment. So when I've finished writing this post I'm going to just pop my head in the fridge again for 10 minutes or so.Wendie Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17434759650307144800noreply@blogger.com2