The first week of Jan

Back to Work

So NYE was brill.  

New Year's Day was spent as a date with the sofa (as it was chucking it down and vile outside, er, and we were quite tired!!).  I started the blog as well as responding to lots of people who have been in touch.

On 2 Jan the Worcester crew decided to go for a walk in the Forest of Dean - it was a beautiful day and Susie and Chris even made us a picnic.  

Walking in the great outdoors is one of the things that calms me and because I haven't done much exercise recently because it's difficult to know what sort to do when you've got a painful, broken chest bone, it was really good to be out.

There were a couple of times when Suze mentioned about what's happening to me at the moment and I really just didn't want to talk about it (so I'm sorry Suze if I seemed like I batted certain comments away).

Sometimes these things are so much more difficult for those around you.  I'm gonna admit to you that I've already had some pretty full-on thoughts. Soz for the depressing nature of what is about to come up, but, for example, what will my funeral be like? (er, all I'm saying is 'no black' and no bloody hearse - horrible things), Who will be there? What will happen to my family? What will Timmy do?

This last question is one I really struggle with.  Tim and I left 10 fun-filled years in London in 2008 and came back to Worcester.  We'd looked into other parts of the country to live (including Nottingham, near Tim's folks and Leeds, near to my bro's family), but settled back in the Woo.  I am so grateful to him for coming back here knowing absolutely no-one apart from my family, but we have made a life here and some awesome friends, but when anything happens to me I don't know what Timmy will do.  All I want to make sure is that he is happy.

I am under no illusions that even if my cancer is treatable, I am unlikely to live to a ripe old age, and, at the moment, I am more concerned for those around me than I am for myself.

Anyway, that is MASSIVELY depressing, so let's move on....

Tuesday 3 Jan was Timmy's 43rd birthday (hooray), and also the day we all went back to work (boo, hiss).  I am carrying on at work for as long as possible as it gives me a sense of normality and hugely helps to take my mind off things.  However, it did make me REALLY tired.

Tim opened his cards in the morning, and then when he got home I made him a coffee (I did offer a beer but he was in need of coffee at this point) and then he opened his pressies, one of which is tix to see Julius Ceaser at the RSC in Stratford.  He's never been before and has always wanted to go.  I went a few times while studying for English A-level (a very long time ago).

Jenn and Tim came to pick us up and we met Suze and Chris and Helen and Tone in the Dragon for couple of ales before heading for a curry. Standard.  We had a real giggle and it was so nice for everyone to come out for Tim's b'day as it's always a bit of a crap time of year, especially when it's the first day back at work.

Every day I've been coming home expecting some post with my biopsy appointment, but so far I haven't had anything.

On Thursday I had my first panic attack in a long time.  However, after about an hour and half at work it subsided.  

For those who know me well know that I've suffered with anxiety and panic attacks my whole life.  I've had various different sessions of therapy since the age of 21 and last had therapy about four years ago.  I've never taken drugs for it.  I started to just feel down and in pain and sorry for myself etc etc.  I couldn't wait to get home from work and went to mum and dad's for lunch (only a half day for me on Thursday).  I walked home at about 3pm and started taking the Christmas decs down.  Sadly I had one of those 'I wonder how many more times I will get to do this?' moments during that so was soooo pleased when Tim walked through the door and made me feel so much better. I love him to bits.

Friday - still no appointment through the post.  I do have a Drs appointment this morning though to review my medication.  Just before Christmas the Dr put me on anti-depressants thinking that with my chest pain and everything that I've been through this year that it could be linked to stress.  I've always resisted taking them before, but this time, I thought 'sod it', I've been through enough.  She told me to book a review appointment in three weeks time. I never get to see the same Dr so when I met the Dr this morning and gave her a quick run down and said 'oh by the way, I've been diagnosed with incurable cancer since being put on anti-depressants' the shock on her face was almost funny - I know that sounds terrible!! Anyway, she has, probably quite rightly, recommended that I stay on them for at least six months while I'm in and out of hospital going through treatment and now is not the best time to be withdrawing from anti-depressants.  Honestly, I'm practically rattling around with the amount of tablets I'm swallowing on a daily basis!

Been talking to Suze this afternoon.  She normally rings me when she's on her way home from work.  I admitted to her that, although this is going to sound strange, that 'thing' we've talked about soooo many times before (ie. the terrifying worry that our cancer will come back one day) has now finally happened and in some ways I am almost 'relieved'.  That is a very strange concept to comprehend, believe me...I'm the one saying it and I can't believe it either.  Obviously I wish this wasn't happening to me and it is a massive surprise to everyone since I didn't have any lymph node spread with my primary breast cancer and the tumour was pretty small, but, as mum had reminded me, it was close to my chest wall, so that bastard cell that went rogue has a lot to answer for! Hurumph.

Still no biopsy appointment so I've been back in touch with my breast surgeon who said he's been questioning it with the oncology team himself and gave me the contact details of my oncologist's secretary to also 'chase it'.  I called and she isn't in this week (that might explain it) but one of her colleagues told me that it had been marked as 'urgent' by the oncologist (gulp) and she would chase it up for me.  I'm hoping they get me in next week cos at the moment all I keep thinking when I feel the pain is 'this thing is still growing inside me'.  That is a horrible feeling.

Well, it's Friday afternoon and the ironing is calling.  I told you I live a rock and roll lifestyle.  Ironing is also something that I hate doing but the pile is huge, so the Sex and the City box set (which incidentally I bought when I was first diagnosed to watch when I was off work and going through chemo) is going on and I can fall into a world of shoes, shopping and the fabulous city of New York - one of my favourites in the world.

Have a great weekend you crazy kids.

Much love. xx