Dee's Blog Bit

I've moved my blog to: http://deesfunkybanana.blogspot.com

 Please come see me over there! :o)

Taxotere number 2 (and Herceptin number 12) was on Thursday.
No particularly bad effects so far, apart from feeling spaced out and just not with it.  But then they didn't start until a few days afterwards last time, sowe shall see!

I'm not really feeling 'with it' at the minute, so please excuse my randomness and gibbering.  But I thought I'd better type a few words, as people have been asking after me, an asking how I'm doing.
They've been saying how brave they think I am, and what an inspiration I am.
Am I brave?  No.
Am I strong?  No.
And I certainly don't feel very inspirational.

I keep going because I have to.  I have no choice.  It isn't because I'm brave or strong.  Just because I can't do anything else.
And do I sometimes wish it was just all over, so I wouldn't have to face this anymore?  Of course I do.  Often.  That's not brave, strong, or inspirational.  It's just selfish.  I know that.
Some days are better than others.  The days I feel well, I'm happy to carry on.  But the time after chemo, I'd happily curl up and die, at times.

The bone scan I had before christmas, showed abnormailites (hot spots) on my right shoulder.  This could indicate that the cancer had spread to my bones too, so I had to have my shoulder x-rayed.
The x-ray showed no abnormalities, so hopefully it isn't bone metastasies.
The chest x-ray I had also appears to be clear.  So at least there was a bit of decent news, at last!

James and me went to Edinburgh over new years.
It was nice to get away, even though the Hogmanay street party we had tickets for, was cancelled due to bad weather!
We managed to have a nice time though.. visited the zoo, wandered around Edinburgh, and went to The Secret Garden, at The Witchery restaurant, for a meal.
I have to admit that on new years eve, while we were sitting in a pub (due to the street party being cancelled), surrounded by strangers, I really struggled to fight back the tears, on several occasions, wondering if this would be my last new years eve.  Who knows.

Just outside the koala enclosure, at Edinburgh zoo, was a quote on a sign.  I thought it was quite touching.
It said:
"We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through.
Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love... and then we return home."

I also went wig shopping on Wednesday, due to the latest departure of my hair, thanks to chemo.  I decided on a blonde number, called 'Teri'.  It's really miles away from what I expected to come home with (after having short dark red hair, for the past year!).  But I quite like her..

I've been feeling more and more ill since the first cycle of my new chemo, last Wednesday.
One of the expected side-effects is a sore mouth, so I wasn't too surprised when my mouth got sore. 
I wasn't surprised I didn't feel great.  I felt fluey and achey.  Again, that's to be expected (this stuff is destroying my cells, after all).
But it started to get too much.  My mouth was in agony.  I could hardly open it, I couldn't speak properly, and all I could 'eat' was cold milk.

Yesterday, I had to go the the hospital for a bone scan, so I called in at the chemo dept while I was there.
They took my blood, and informed me that my white blood cell count was 0.  Yes, zero.  I had absolutely no immune system.
I also have tonsilitis, which has spread all over my mouth, hence the incredible mouth pain.
Obviously, having no immune system, my body couldn't fight this, so it was just getting worse.
Fortunately, my temperature was normal, so they sent me home with antibiotics, anti-bacterial mouthwash, and pain killers.
If my temperature had been high, that would have been a sign the infection had got into my blood sytem, causing blood poisoning, so I'd have been stuck in hospital, on IV antibiotics.
I'm just grateful I'm at home!

Before the chemo, I felt absolutely fine, even though I had a 10cm alien growing in my liver.  Now I feel like I'm falling to bits!

The doctor made sure to tell me that the course of antibiotics will have ended in time for christmas day, so I'll be able to have a couple of glasses of wine!
I REALLY hope my mouth's better by then (I hope it's better long before then).  I don't fancy liquidised christmas dinner.  All I can eat at the minute, is liquidised bland food.  I can't even manage fruit smoothies, because the acid sends me through the roof!

So for now, I have to stay home.  Not allowed to go out, incase I manage to find myself some more infections, and not allowed to see anyone who has colds, or anything else.
It's been a fun week in Deeland!

You hear about people dying all the time.  You say "sorry" to their family, and get on with your life.

So what happens when it's you who's dying?  What do you say to your family?  "Sorry" doesn't really seem to cut it.
What do you say to yourself?  How are you suppose to feel and act? 
How are you supposed to get your head around your own death?

I'm not scared of dying.  But I am scared of leaving behind the people I love.  I'm scared to death (excuse the pun) of leaving James.
I've had my share of 'mild' depression in my time.  Sometimes I wouldn't have much cared if I'd died.  So why now I like my life.  In fact, I love my life.  Why not when I hated my life?  Why did whatever/whoever decides who's going to live, and who's going to die, decide they were going to drop this on me now?
What kind of a screwed up world is this?

I hear people talking about their problems.  How they hate Monday mornings.  They hate their job.  They don't get paid enough.  Boyfriend troubles.  Girlfriend troubles.  Car troubles.  Blocked toilets.
And while I know everyone has their own problems to worry about, I wish they'd see the good things in their lives.  I'd trade them for any or all of those troubles.

The cancer's back.

I found out on 22nd November that it's spread to my liver.  I now have secondary/metatstatic breast cancer.  There were two tumours they could see on the ultrasound scan.  One's 'small', the other's 10cm.
On Tuesday, I'll start 3-weekly Taxotere chemo, in the hope of shrinking and controling it.  With the larger tumour, there's not going to be much room for error.

I feel like my world's fallen apart.  Just when things seemed to be going so well.  Nice holiday, just gone back to work, and then this.
I'd be lying if I said I thought I was coping well.. I'm not.  I'm scared.  I don't want to die.  And I'm sick of crying.  Sick of waking up every morning with sore, puffy eyes, from crying.  Sick of feeling sorry for myself. And sick of keep putting my friends and family through this rubbish.

The cancer's not curable now.  I'm just hoping and praying that it can be controlled for a while.  There's so much I still want to do with my life.  I met the most amazing man in the world in January, and I'm not ready to leave him.

I wrote about St Agata yesterday, but neglected to talk about the holiday James and I have just returned from.. A Mediterranean cruise, to be precise.

Boat was nice, as were the places we visited (Palma.. Italy; Sardinia, Maddelena Island, Civitavecchia, Rome, La Spezia and Pisa.  France; Nice and Sete).  The weather was gorgeous, and the food was lovely.
This is the view from Le Maddelena Island (click thumbnail to see full size picture).. stunning.  The water was so clear, and we saw dolphins swimming and jumping around, too..

The album containing the rest of our holiday photos, can be seen Here

Since then, I've come home to hospital appointments, doctors appointments, and Herceptin number 9, yesterday.

Two weeks today, I'll be back at work (allbeit a different job to the one I used to do and love.  Same emplyer, completely different job).  Just two days a weekto start with, until I get back into it, and see how it goes.  In all honesty, I don't know how I'm going to be able to drive the 2o miles there, work all day, and drive 20 miles home, without falling asleep.  I've slept a hell of alot since the whole cancer thing kicked off, and I don't often manage a day full of activity.. I seem to get tired so easily.

Upon reading a blog which I often visit, I came across a paragraph about martyred virgin Agata (which, I believe, roughly translates to 'Agatha' in English), "who refused the attentions of Quintino and paid by having her breasts torn off."
Agata had come down through history holding her severed breasts on a platter. Women who feared for their own breasts, it was said, invoked her.  She's also the patron saint of bell makers.

After a little 'google' research, I find that apparently there's a painting of Agata, with her breasts on a platter (there's a ditty there, somewhere), in Rossellino's cathedral.. and quite possibly in many other places.  And apparently her breasts look somewhat like fried eggs.  Although I've never seen it, so can't comment!

According to Wikipedia.com, Saint Agata (died 251) is a Christian saint. Her memorial day is February 5. Agata was born at Catania and she was martyred in approximately 250. She is the patron saint of Catania.
According to variations of her legend, having rejected the amorous advances of a Roman prefect, she was persecuted by him for her Christian faith. Among the tortures she underwent was the cutting off of her breasts. She is therefore often depicted iconographically carrying her excised breasts on a platter.
The shape of her amputated breasts gave rise to her attribute as patron saint of bell-founders. More recently she is venerated as patron saint of breast cancer patients.

Oh my god, what an absolutely amazing experience!

The feeling of complete freedom, as I was freefalling through the sky, above the clouds, was like nothing I've ever experienced before.
It's things like that make me acutely aware that I am indeed alive and kicking!

We dived out of the plane, at 13,500 feet..  head first, into nothingness. 
When we levelled off, it was like swimming through the sky..  The wind pressing on my face.
The parachute opened, at around 5000 feet.  It was so quiet and peaceful.  As we spiralled through the clouds, in the sunshine, people on the ground became more visible.. my family and friends, who had come along to lend their support.

My fear of heights and of flying were left behind somewhere on the ground, I think.
At no time was there a feeling of falling.  It was more a feeling of just being.. Being alive, doing something I never in my wildest dreams, thought I'd be able to do. 

The whole experience is something I really can't put into words. But I hope it's one I'll get the chance to re-live one day.

When I left the airfield, they gave me a magazine.  There's a quote in this magazine, by Richard Bach, that says..
"What are we doing here?
Overcoming the fear of death, of course.
Why are we in the air?
We are practising, you might say, what it is to be alive"

The videos of my jump can be seen Here (the 'official' video.. you need to fill the details in, including the 'optional' ones, to be able to view it).  And Here (a video kindly taken by a friend).

Weeeell, it's Friday 22nd September, and tomorrow, I'll be doing a 10,000 foot skydive/parachute jump at Langar Airfield, near Nottingham, to raise money for Breast Cancer Campaign!
The fact I'm terrified of heights, and not very keen on flying, is neither here nor there.. I'm very determined on this, and while I'm getting nervous about it, I'm really looking forward to it too!

I'm praying for good weather.. it's raining here at the minute, and I keep checking the BBC weather website every five minutes.  So far, it's saying it's going to be cloudy, but no rain.  Poor visibility though, which I wouldn't imagine is ideal for throwing oneself out of a plane!
Please wish some good weather for me!

I've recently set up a 'justgiving' page, which makes it super-easy for people to sponsor me online.  It's at.. http://www.justgiving.com/deesjump 
You can also see how much people have donated, and how things are going on my justgiving page.  Photos of the jump will also be posted there!

For now, I'd best be off.. I have to go into town to pay some sponsor money into the bank, and to get some chocolate and coke.. I've been told I'll need them, for the shock afterwards!

It's been a while since I last posted in my blog.  I'm so lazy with these things.. and I suppose I've been trying to get on with life too!

In the past couple of weeks, I've had a 'one year post-diagnosis' mammogram, ultrasound, and MRI scan of my boobs.  All came back 'normal', which was a huge relief!
These scans were only of the boob area, so I'm well aware it's no indication of what's going on in the rest of my body.  I just have to keep my fingers crossed that there's nothing bad going on in the rest of my body.

I'm still on the Herceptin journey.  I've had six doses now (one IV infusion, every three weeks), and will be having number seven next week.
They've all been relatively uneventful (thankfully).  The main drawbacks are waiting hours to see the oncologist, and the chemo nurses playing 'hunt the vein'.
I've had a few MUGA heart scans now, to keep a check on how my heart's coping with Herceptin, as it an cause heart damage and heart failure in some people.  But I was pleased to hear that my heart function doesn't seem to have decreased.

Love life..
James and me have been together just over six months now.
We're having a good time (at least I am.. I hope he is too!), and are hoping to be going on a cruise in October.  We should be booking it within the next few days, so I'm looking forward to that!

So, it's been a pretty good few weeks/months, all in all.. Long may it continue!