50/50

I just saw 50/50 this afternoon.

I hesitated whether to see it or not, I was afraid it would be heavy or too emotional but I was curious because I can see the funny side of cancer and I also make a lot of jokes about it, laughing can be therapeutic.

It's no masterpiece but it had some funny moments and there were a lot of scenes I could relate to, such as being told I had cancer (when I was told I had cancer I was incredibly shocked and my first reaction was to think it was a mistake, the rest of the appointment is a blur in my memory), the day I had my head shaved (in the bathroom with my husband having fun shaving my hair off and my mother weeping), the support from fellow cancer patients, the importance of having friends and family around, the anger, fear, tiredness, insecurities and of course, the good moments spent with those who love me.

The film made me think about my family and friends and I will try to understand better how do they feel and how do they cope with my illness.

I liked the fact that the main character was not full of self-pity and the emotions of all other characters seemed real.

Cancer and humour may seem a strange combination, but it works.

All dressed up... again!

Waiting...

Two weeks ago I went again to the hospital for the "breast surgery: the sequel", almost one and a half years after the first big surgery.
There's nothing nice about having surgery: I felt nervous and anxious. I was hungry and tired (hadn't eaten and hardly slept). I felt vulnerable and sad.
It all became very real when the surgeons (I had two this time) came in to make the markings on my skin, one made his marking in black, the other in green. After that, the same ritual starts: the anaesthetist comes to ask the usual questions, the phlebotomist draws some blood, the nurse makes sure I am well and gives me a fancy hospital gown, very white compression socks, anti-slip green socks (health and safety!), disposable panties (sexy!) and a non-matching robe. So pretty! Luckily S. thinks that even in a hospital gown I am still the prettiest girl ever (love is blind!).
It is the fourth time I have surgery in this hospital and I almost feel at home there. The room is nice, with two big windows, it is quiet and comfortable. There is a closed balcony with sofas where patients and guests can go to read and relax. The nurses and staff are just amazing, when they heard I was in the ward they came to say hello and wish me luck. They are really nice people and they treated me very well, as always.
I was then taken to the operating theatre where the anaesthetist and his assistant were waiting for me. The anaesthetist had some difficulty finding a suitable vein. My right arm cannot be used (to reduce the risk of lymphoedema) and my left arm is still recovering from the chemotherapy induced phlebitis. Against his will he ended up putting the catheter into a vein in my hand. Before I had time to count until five, I was asleep. I woke up from the surgery in pain and the first day was a bit rough but the surgery went well and I am doing fine now, recovering fast and without complications (I'll spare you the gory details).
I am at home, on sick leave for about three weeks. I can't do much so I read and watch movies with my mother. Not a bad life!
I try not to think much about what I went through, about how I look and how I will look like in the future. Emotionally I feel weaker than before, I feel tearful most of the time and I am always making a huge effort to stay positive, smile and enjoy life.

Thank you all for your support

Here are some pictures of the Cancerkin Hyde Park walk last weekend.

It was fun and we were lucky enough to have some sunny spells and no rain at all.

And no, I wasn't wearing a tutu...

Has it really been a year?

One year ago I was panicking, crying and afraid, I had no idea what was expecting me and I had no idea how I was going to deal with it.
It is hard to believe that a year is gone already.
Although I don't feel safe from recurrence, I am not always thinking about it either.
If breast cancer is most likely to recur within the first two years after diagnosis, I am happy to say that I survived the first one year without any bad news. I am not a big fan of statistics but it makes me feel good to think that I am half-way.

Sponsor me, your donation is going to a worthy cause. Help me reach £1000!

http://www.justgiving.com/Gisela-Antunes

Elderflower cordial

This week's vegetable box brought me flowers, elderflowers. And with it I made a delicious and refreshing cordial. Here is the recipe (taken from the Abel & Cole site):
It makes about 500ml - to fill 2-3 jam jars.

Ingredients:
15 large elderflower blossom heads
2 unwaxed lemons, zest pared in strips, sliced
500g caster sugar (I used 300g only)
 
Shake the elderflower heads to remove any errant bugs and the like, and place in a very large, heatproof bowl with the lemon slices. In a large saucepan set over a low heat, dissolve the sugar in 500ml cold water. Stir until the liquid is completely clear. Increase the heat and bring the syrup to the boil, then stir in the pared lemon zest and pour the mixture over the elderflower blossoms and lemon slices. Cover with clingfilm and set aside in a cool place to steep for about 24 hours.
Strain into a jug, through a muslin-lined sieve. Pour into little jars (should fill 3-4 jam jars) and store in the fridge for up to 1 week. Or, pour into ice cube trays and freeze the cubes until ready to use. They're perfect for picnics- just pop them into a jug with water and let them melt as you travel to your picnic spot.

It is very nice diluted with still water, sparkling water  or soda.

Something to look forward to

My sister C. is getting married in September. Not only it makes me feel very happy, it also gives me something to look forward to. Instead of thinking of my next surgery, I am thinking of what to wear and how will my hair look like by then. It is going to be a great day! Congratulations C. and C.

Dr. Gigi was right

As I said, it is better to have a disc hernia than a tumour, so when I heard that I have two disc hernias I kind of felt happy. Weird, I know! I still have pain and discomfort but feel much better than a couple of weeks ago. I started doing physiotherapy and I am confident it will help. My posture is apparently wrong and needs to be corrected, which might take months, but I will be a good girl and do my daily exercises, as recommended by the physiotherapist.
I feel like an old lady. I also feel too young to feel this old.

Raising money for a great cause‏

I'm taking part in the Cancerkin - Hyde Park Walk 2011 on 19/06/2011 to raise money for Royal Free Cancerkin Breast Cancer Trust and I'd really appreciate your support.
As some of you may know, this has a special meaning to me. Last year I was diagnosed with breast cancer and the support I received during treatments was vital. By raising money I hope to help other breast cancer patients like me to get the same amazing support.
Cancerkin is a charity dedicated to providing information, treatment, supportive care and rehabilitation for patients with breast cancer and support for those close to them. Cancerkin offers education and training for health professionals, students and volunteers and undertakes and collaborates in research into breast cancer and benign breast disease.
It's easy to donate online with a credit or debit card - just go to my JustGiving page:
http://www.justgiving.com/Gisela-Antunes
JustGiving sends your donation straight to Royal Free Cancerkin Breast Cancer Trust and automatically reclaims Gift Aid if you're a UK taxpayer, so your donation is worth even more.
I hope you'll join me in supporting Royal Free Cancerkin Breast Cancer Trust.
Your donation is greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Back pain, again...

Last year I complained about severe back pain and I was sent home with some mild pain killers. This was the pre-cancer era.
Last week I complained about severe back pain and I was immediately sent to a specialist, I had an MRI done and some blood tests as well. This is the cancer era.
I was given a disc with the MRI and of course I couldn't resist having a look at it. I don't know how to interpret what I see but it looks like there's something out of place. I will know more on Friday, when I see the doctor again.

Twenty years ago I had a disc herniation at L5-S1 and surgery, but this time Dr. Gigi (me!) thinks there's something at L4-L5 and L3-L4. Better a hernia than a tumour!

4 months after chemo

During the holidays I decided to stop wearing a scarf and show my newly grown hair. I haven't had a haircut yet, this is how it is growing. I can't wait to have enough hair to have a proper haircut. 

Last Friday: Nitin Sawhney @ The Royal Albert Hall

The highlight of the night was a 15 minute organ commission written by Nitin Sawhney  for the Royal Albert Hall Pipe Organ performed  by James Taylor. Here is a bit:  

Organ Composition // Nitin Sawhney // Royal Albert Hall // 2011 (2 of 2)

Ile Maurice ki zoli zoli pay

See you when I get back!

Did I do this to myself?

I can’t get over the ‘why me’ phase. Every day I ask myself what could I have done differently. I can’t change the past but maybe I can try to influence my future.

What are the downsides of eating well, exercising more, and reducing stress? None, right? So why don’t we all do that? I always thought I lead a healthy life, but apparently I have exposed my body to some cancer causing chemicals or other factors that made me develop cancer. I will never know what caused my cancer, maybe it was the polluted air in London, the fact that I didn’t manage to have any children (although I tired), or because I took the pill for so many years. Was it because I didn’t eat organic, or because I had a stressful life? Was it because I am tall? A woman? White? Apart from nutrition and fitness, all the rest seems pretty much out of my control. Should I have exercised more, eaten less or healthier? I was never fat, I always exercised, I cook at home and don’t eat processed food, I eat plenty of fruit and vegetables and never had any health problems before. In fact, I never realised how healthy I was, how fit I was and how happy I was, until this happened.

If our body knows how to fight cancer, I am determined to help it with a better diet, exercise, less stress and less exposure to carcinogens. By doing this I will not only feel like I am in control, I will increase my chances of leaving longer cancer free.

Doctors don’t tell patients to exercise more, be thin, eat healthy, avoid carcinogens and reduce stress to build natural defences against cancer. All is focussed on early detection and treatments, not prevention. This is wrong.

I read somewhere that breast cancer incidence has increased by more than 50% over the last 25 years. This is quite alarming because, although treatments have improved significantly and the survival rates have increased, not much seems to have been done to prevent it from happening in the first place.

I don’t think it is random luck (or lack of it!), it is the environment we live in, the modern life-style we lead, that are disrupting our hormone balances. The chemicals we breathe, eat and drink are acting as carcinogens.

Presently my biggest fear is to have recurrent or secondary cancer and I want to make sure I do what I can to stay healthy for the rest of my life but it is very hard to do so when I don’t know what exactly made me have breast cancer in the first place.

Pesticides, plastics, the pill, stress, etc are all hormone disruptors that can mimic the role of oestrogen and stimulate the growth of hormone sensitive cancer (like mine). It hasn’t necessarily been proven that oestrogen can cause breast cancer, but high levels of oestrogen can stimulate the growth of the cancer cells. That is exactly what Tamoxifen is supposed to do: block oestrogen receptors.

Having an oestrogen receptive cancer is in a way good, it means that there is an extra treatment available, Tamoxifen, which is proven to be effective. However, although Tamoxifen may increase my life expectancy, it definitely decreases my quality of life. I have been taking it for about two months now and the side effects are just getting worse and worse. A good night sleep is something I don’t know the meaning of anymore and having menopause symptoms at my age makes me feel old, too old. Having hot flashes during hot weather is just horrible. I have many techniques to make it more bearable, such as having two glasses of ice on my desk at work, that I can hold whenever I feel a hot flash coming; I have a Chillow which I definitely recommend, it helps me cool down during the many night sweats I have each night; I sleep with a very light duvet and the window open when possible, I dress in layers and only cotton and I take sage capsules. Unfortunately I can’t take Black Cohosh, Agnus Castus or any of those herbs, because it may interfere with the Tamoxifen and may increase my oestrogen levels.

Why is our body so complicated?

Call me paranoid, but I started using glass containers instead of plastic, I try to use only BPA free plastic, I rarely eat canned food (apart from the odd bean or tuna can), I use organic beauty products without parabens, I eat organic, I avoid dairy products and red meat, and I eat as much antiangiogenic foods as I can (antiangiogenics stop the growth of tumours and progression of cancers by limiting the formation of new blood vessels). Some examples of these foods are strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, oranges, grapefruit, lemons, apples, pineapples, cherries, parsley, garlic, nutmeg, turmeric, tomatoes, pumpkin, green tea, kale and dark chocolate.

I went from not wanting to read anything related to cancer to reading everything I can about it. There’s a lot of contradictory information available, and not enough or inconclusive studies available, this makes it a lot more complicated. What I try to do is to find guidance that makes sense to me, that seems logical and harmless.

But sometimes I think that reducing risks means nothing because I know a lot of people who live under constant stress, smoke, drink, don’t eat anything fresh, organic or unprocessed, are overweight and don’t exercise and never got cancer.

What not to say to a breast cancer patient

In difficult situations I never know what to say to people and very often I can’t find the right words and end up saying empty sentences and maybe even making insensitive remarks. So, I understand that sometimes, although well-meant (or not), people may say the wrong thing.

I’ve made a short list of the things I think people should not say to a cancer patient:

“No one knows when they are going to die. I could be hit by a bus and die tomorrow.” F***! What crosses people’s mind to talk about death to someone with a serious illness? Honestly... Do you know how I feel most of the time? Like if I’ve been hit by a bus, not once, but over and over again. It is true we all die of something at an undetermined date, but being faced with your own mortality after a cancer diagnosis is different.

“So, did the treatments work?” Unfortunately there isn’t a blood or urine test that can confirm that. Cancer can be as small as a single cell and undetectable in a scan. So, let’s see, if I die of cancer it means it didn’t work.

“Fatigue? But you don’t look tired.” I don’t think most people understand what it is like to be uncomfortable in your own body for almost a year now, not being able to sleep for almost five months now, not having energy to do simple things and feeling generally weak.

“You look great for someone who went through what you did.” Or even worse: “You look great, you must be feeling good.” Don’t assume that. Just because I am not crying all the time, I am wearing make-up and colourful clothes, able to laugh and tell some jokes, it doesn’t mean I feel great. I may look good (considering what I’ve been through!), but it feels like crap at times. And how is a cancer patient supposed to look like anyway?

“Look on the bright side, you will get a boob job for free.” First, I was happy the way I was before. Second, have you ever seen reconstructed breasts after a mastectomy? Obviously not. Do you like the way your nipples feel? Well, I wish I could feel mine too. Breast surgeons and plastic surgeons are geniuses and in some cases artists, but breast reconstruction is not the same as breast augmentation. And there's no bright side in loosing part of your body.

“I know how you feel.” Do you really? It’s ok to show sympathy but unless you went through exactly the same, you have no idea what it is like. When I hear this, all I feel is loneliness.

“God has a purpose in all this." "Pray to god." or anything related with god. Don’t assume I am religious. If god exists it is being quite cruel at the moment and I don’t see the purpose of that. I haven’t done anything wrong. If god has a plan, it is a pretty screwed up plan in my view. I prefer to rely on real things like medicine, family and friends. I don’t think people get cancer or any other serious disease for a reason, it is just a consequence of a series of factors.

“You’re so lucky you have so much free time.” Well, let me tell you, if I could choose between working and being sick, I would rather work 60 hours a week.

“My aunt, cousin, sister, brother, uncle, mother, neighbour or whoever died of cancer.” Why are you telling me this? I am scared enough as it is. And save the horror stories about the treatments, recovery and recurrence for some other time.

“Everything is going to be all right.” How can you know that? Even my doctors don’t know that. By saying this, people just make me feel guilty for being worried, sad and afraid.

“You have to stay positive.” Don’t tell me how I should feel. And if I am not positive? Am I disappointing a lot of people? Is positive a synonym of denial, anger, depression, anxiety and panic? No, I don’t think it is and I am sorry to disappoint you by saying that I feel all these as well.

“Your hair will grow back.” Don’t state the obvious. I live in the present not in the future. Have you ever tried feeling attractive and self-confident without hair?

“I love short hair?” Do you really? Then shall we go together to the hairdresser so you can copy my hairstyle?

The hottest April 6 on record

Today was the hottest day of the year and I was lucky enough to be off. I love and need sun. A sunny day is the best anti-depressant I know. Apparently the hottest place in the country, according to the Met Office, was St James’s Park here in London where a temperature of 23.6C was recorded. Not bad for April.
It's a shame I cannot sunbathe, my skin is still too sensitive after chemo and radiotherapy, otherwise I would have been in the sun all day. Sun, please stay!

Can't face it, literally!

Last Friday I had a routine appointment with the breast surgeon. I took the opportunity to complain about my right arm which has been a bit achy and slightly swollen lately. I was afraid it could be lymphoedema but he quickly dismissed my concerns. However, he raised a new one. I have a suspicious looking mole on my back. He took measurements, made some notes and said we would keep an eye on it. Well, he will keep an eye because it’s right in the middle of my back, where even with a mirror I am not able to see it properly. I didn’t really think much about this until now. I decided to do what doctors keep tell me not to, I went to “Dr. Google” for information. Apparently women with breast cancer have a higher risk of developing melanoma. Great, another thing to keep me awake at night! It is most probably just another mole, like any of the hundreds I have, but I have to admit that today I spent some time trying to turn my head back as much as I could in order to see the famous suspicious mole. Completely useless, all I got was a stiff neck and eyeball pain. As a last resort I made S. describe in detail how the mole looks like. He refused to take a picture of it claiming it would only make me even more paranoid. Paranoid, me?!

What makes a good day

Kohlrabi

In this week’s organic vegetable box I found a kohlrabi, another vegetable that I hadn’t cooked before. Today I made a delicious spicy soup, here is the recipe:

Ingredients:
1 tbsp olive oil
1 white onion
1 garlic clove
1 dried red chilli
1 kohlrabi
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 slice of ginger
1 tsp of coriander powder
Coriander or parsley leaves
Salt and pepper

Preparation:
Fry the onions, chilli and garlic, all finely chopped, in the olive oil until soft.
Add the diced kohlrabi and cook until soft.
Add the soy sauce, sesame oil, ginger (I normally use the garlic crusher to crush the ginger, instead of chopping it), coriander powder, salt and pepper, and simmer for about ten minutes.
Mash and add the chopped coriander or parsley before serving.

I also learned that kohlrabi is very healthy: it is an excellent source of vitamin C, B6, folic acid, magnesium, copper and potassium. Kohlrabi is good for diabetics because it helps to stabilise the levels of sugar in the blood. It is low in calories and high on fibre.

I love this time of the year

Days are getting longer, birds sing all day, it's warmer, there are flowers everywhere...

Life after cancer treatments

Sometimes I have the impression that some people think that because the treatments are finished (not counting with the hormonal treatment, which in fact also has pretty annoying side effects) and because I normally say that I had cancer (in the past tense), that I am supposed to be positive and back to normal. But having cancer is not like having the flu. When you have the flu, you feel miserably sick but then you recover and get back to normal, without any consequences. With cancer it doesn’t work that way. There are physical, psychological and emotional, financial, social and work related consequences, everything is affected.
Physically, treatments leave behind fatigue, sleeping problems, induced menopause, discomforts caused by surgery and chemo, peripheral neuropathy from chemo, aches and pains, nails and hair loss.
The psychological and emotional effects of cancer and treatments are more complex. I can think of fear, anger, worry, frustration, sadness, anxiety, loss of self-confidence, grief and guilt. With these ones I can deal with, the worst part is being able to find a good balance between uncertainty and hope. I will see my doctors more often than I will see some of my good friends. And each doctor’s appointment triggers a series of emotions that start with fear of recurrence and hopefully end with relief and sense of security. And the emotional consequences are extended to my husband, family and close friends. They too worry and feel anxious.
Financially, being away from work for such a long period has a direct impact on income and having had cancer may also have a long term impact on my career. On top of this, insurances and mortgages will become harder to get.
Socially, I feel very often that people don’t understand me, some people don’t know how to behave towards me, I don’t know how to behave around new people and very often I worry about the changes to my appearance and about what people see when they look at me. I think they don’t see me, but the sick me.
Going back to work requires physical and emotional strength and I really admire those who can work during treatments. I know now that I went back too early. I feel completely overwhelmed, I am way too tired and emotionally weak. I definitely suffer from chemo-brain, I can’t concentrate, or talk and write at the level it is required.
I know that with time I will settle back into my old routines, getting out more, exercising more, and enjoying things in general more. Days are longer and weather is getting better, this helps. I am going to start stepping out at Baker Street station and walk through Regents Park back home.

Hope

For people like me, that had cancer and had to undergo chemotherapy, once treatments are finished all we want is to go on and lead our normal lives. Normal for me a year ago included starting a family, unfortunately chemotherapy, which is in many cases potentially damaging to the ovarian function, has reduced my chances of ever having children to virtually zero. It is cruel and hard to accept, and although infertility is not a life-threatening condition, I find it in a way worse than cancer itself. Before chemotherapy started I did what I could (or what science and medicine offered me) to save some of my eggs, it wasn't as successful as I had hoped and I wish I had read this a year ago: http://www.lifeonice.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=47&Itemid=27
It is possible to have ovarian tissue frozen and then implanted back once all treatments are finished. It is a new and little-known technique with only a few successful cases, but it sounds promising and I hope it can be developed and used in the future to help women in child bearing age that are diagnosed with cancer and have to deal with infertility.
It has also recently been in the news that new studies have shown that taking Tamoxifen for five years is more effective than taking it for shorter periods of time. It has even been suggested that it should be taken by women at risk of developing breast cancer as a preventive measure. I am more and more convinced that despite the terrible side effects (and I can tell you they are not pleasant at all) I will take it for the full five years. Even if that means that I will be 41 by the time I can even think of having the embryo implanted and try to conceive. There's no point in taking risks, becoming a mother (although with only one embryo I know that my chances of getting pregnant are less than 0,5%) and then falling ill again, it does not sound like a good plan to me.

La valise en carton

What were you doing ten years ago today? You probably can't remember, but I can. I was leaving Portugal, moving abroad, something I always wanted to do. I also remember that I had dinner at the Cafe Bern in Nieuwmarkt in Amsterdam, and that I ate "kaasfondue" sitting at the counter with my cousin A. Good old days. Amsterdam is a great city and I had a wonderful time there. I have so many good memories.
But the turning point was not moving to Holland but moving out of Portugal. I packed my suitcase, took a plane and there I went, on my own, the start of a new adventure. And my life has been an adventure since. It was one of the best decisions of my life. Of course I miss my family, the sun, the sea and the beach, my friends, and the good Portuguese habits. But aren't all Portuguese supposed to live in eternal "saudade"?

É o vento que me leva.
O vento lusitano.
É este sopro humano
Universal
Que enfuna a inquietação de Portugal.
É esta fúria de loucura mansa
Que tudo alcança
Sem alcançar.
Que vai de céu em céu,
De mar em mar,
Até nunca chegar.
E esta tentação de me encontrar
Mais rico de amargura
Nas pausas da ventura
De me procurar...
Miguel Torga, Diário XII

Working against me

Going back to work has been a lot harder than I thought. I can't concentrate, I feel exhausted, anxious and insecure. The first week was ok, I was acclimatising. The second week was a nightmare, I felt less than the others, observed, slow and incapable of performing. I burst into tears every night and I couldn't even explain exactly why. I was so convinced that going back to work would shut the cancer door and open the normal life door, but things are not that easy, are they? I carry a heavy load on my shoulders everywhere I go and I don't seem to be able to let go. This week I gained courage and I asked to continue working reduced hours for a couple of more weeks. I'm letting myself down, I'm angry and I really wish things were different.
One thing I promised myself when I learned I had cancer was that I wouldn't get a depression. It's bad enough as it is, the last thing I need is to have to deal with a depression. But I can see it coming: lethargy, insomnia, irritability, sadness, crying, unable to have fun, lack of initiative. I can't let that happen, I don't want to look back one day and see wasted time. Today I went to see the psychologist who thinks I am not depressed, just being too hard on myself. She gave me a couple of tasks I have to put in practice during the next week, let's see if I manage to do it. One thing she said stayed on my mind: do what you feel like doing and not what you think you should be doing. Do what gives you pleasure, not what you think you should be doing. The problem is, I don't know anymore what I enjoy doing and most of the times I don't feel like doing anything, talking to anyone or going anywhere. All I want is for things to be like they were before. Nothing else.

Back pain

After almost 20 years of chronic back pain, it looks like I have finally found something that actually provides some relief. I got so used to having back pain it bacame part of my life, but the other day, when the pain was at its worse, I mentioned it to my acupuncturist, and she decided to dedicate that session to treating the pain. I was pleasantly surprised  by the effect, it is not a long lasting effect though, probably just a couple of days and I am aware that it will not cure the cause of the pain but I will certainly keep on going there. She has a client for life now!

Spring

The house has been taken over by spiders, bees and lady birds.
S. doesn't allow me to vacuum or smash them with a slipper, instead he tries to catch them with a glass and then puts them in the garden. Very correct! In the meantime we've been living with a big creepy hairy spider on the ceiling of our bedroom and one in the bathroom (not to mention the ones that come and go), a family of lady birds and a couple of noisy bumblebees. These were the first signs of spring.
It was a fantastic spring day today: bright sun, blue sky and warm. I was off today so I went to meet J. for lunch. We sat by the canal, absorbing the sun while eating a sandwich. It was super nice. Nothing like a bit of sun to cheer me up.
The day didn't start so well today, I lost a fingernail which was a big shock because I thought all my fingernails would survive, but I was wrong. If I look carefully I can see that at least two more nails are going to fall off soon. I had never seen a finger without a nail... it looks weird,... pink. Not everyone can say they have touched their scalp and nail bed, right? Well, I can. So, what does a 36 year old woman do when she looses a nail? She calls her mother to do a sniffie sniffie. So grown up! Sometimes I wonder if my mother called her mother for every little thing.

Unsettling

Not what I had planned

6:45am: the alarm goes off – Oh no, time to get up already! Don’t feel good, was awake the whole night, have a headache and no energy to move. Snooze.

6:54am: the alarm goes off again – first attempt to get up. Unsuccessful. Snooze.

7:03am: the alarm goes off once again – second attempt. Feeling light-headed. I ask S.: "Do you think I can stay at home today, I don’t feel 100%?" Answer: "Of course, listen to your body and don’t feel guilty." I move closer to S. to cuddle up.

7:15am: feeling guilty I get up and have breakfast. Still not feeling well. Back to bed.

8:00am: up again. I decide I should make an effort. I’m worried my boss and colleagues will think I am lazy. “Are you crazy, your wellbeing comes first!” says S.. I get annoyed but I know he is right. Still, in a spirit of contradiction, I try to shower. Damn it, it’s true, I can’t wet the stitches. So I get even crankier. Finally I tell my boss I won’t make it today.

8:30am: back in bed feeling moody, sad and not well.

10:00am: managed to sleep one hour. Listening to Antena 3 and reading in bed.

I still think I should be in the office, not in bed. So much for wanting to get back to normal. Life sucks!

Bye bye P

It is time to say goodbye to my portacath. It's been with me for six months, it was one of the best things that happened during chemo (it made treatments so much easier) but it is now time to get rid of it. One less thing to bother me and make me feel weird.
Today I am going to have the implantable chest port removed, under general anaesthesia, which makes me feel very nervous I don't know why because it is a simple procedure, that should last no more than half an hour. The fact that I have to fast doesn't help, the surgery is at 3pm, by then I am going to be so hungry and grumpy. It's not even 11am yet and my stomach is already glued to my back! I can see already the sign on my bedroom door saying "Nil by Mouth". Cruel!
Having to go to the hospital, wear a gown, and everything else that comes with a surgery, makes me feel vulnerable and reminds me of cancer. One thing that makes me feel reassured is that it's going to be done by my breast surgeon, who I know well by now and who I like and trust a lot.
I hope I wake up feeling well tomorrow and able to go to work. What an odd week, I just started and I am already off sick again!

A new start

I had such a warm welcome at work yesterday. Everyone came to say hello, give me a hug and a smile. We even had cake! It was great. I was afraid it would be awkward and that I would feel uncomfortable but after a couple of hours it felt like if I've never been away. There are two new faces in the team but apart from that not much seems to have changed. I need to do lots of reading to catch up but I am motivated and pretty sure I will feel at home in no time.

Organised as I am, I planned in advance how I would answer eventual questions. I understand people are curious but I don’t want to talk too much about it, give too many details or give vague answers that will lead to speculation. I feel good and that is what people need to know.
I am happy I work with nice people.

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go

Tomorrow is the big day, I am returning to work after being off sick for many many months. I feel like if it is my first job, or a bit like if I am going to be the new girl in class. But at the same time I am super excited and can't wait to go back.
I am worried that I will not be able to do my work anymore, I know that I can't concentrate as before and that I am still very tired. And probably a lot of things have changed since I left. It's going to be a challenge, more like a whole new beginning.
Not everyone is aware of the reason why I was off sick for so long and I hope I am not bombarded with questions, I am not sure if I feel like talking about it over and over again. Once they see me it will be clear that I had chemo, I am still wearing a scarf which says enough I believe.
Today after spending a couple of hours in the sun reading, I went for a massage, a facial and a manicure (to hide these horrible yellowish-brown decrepit nails!). I feel great. I needed to have a relaxed day.

Changing focus

Lately I’ve been experiencing what feels like the worst PMS of my life. One minute I think everyone around me is great, the next minute I realise how annoying people can be and I don’t just get irritated, I scare people by turning blue and blowing up, not without first saying  a couple of nasty things. Even I know this is irrational, but it is totally out of my control, really, it is. I have to first count until ten before opening my mouth these days. It feels at times as if my body and mind are not my own. The worse part of the treatments have ended, the prognosis is good, spring is coming (soon I hope!) and life goes on. An action plan is needed. So, let’s be rational:
Problem: tired body and exhausted mind, crazy hormones, loss of self-esteem, pains and aches
Cause: cancer and treatments
Solution: change focus, rest, exercise, eat well, have fun and take pain killers
After almost nine months of focussing on cancer and my health, I am now ready to change focus and start living a more normal life. It is going to be hard, at least for now because there are still so many reminders - aches and pains, annoyances, my physical appearance, worries, doctor’s appointments, etc - that don’t let me forget what I’ve been through, but I want to stop thinking of myself as a cancer patient and enjoy life as before. “As before” and “normal life” will now have to be readjusted to a new reality. Nothing will be like before, I know, but I have to find a new “normal” and get on with life.

Having fun

Yesterday I had the last of the monthly appointments with my oncologist. The next appointment will be in six months, hurray! Not that I don’t like her, but I am just so happy to free myself from all these medical appointments.
According to her I am well: the leg pain is likely to be remains of the chemotherapy induced bone pain, not having hair yet is unusual but can happen (the more I stress about it the less it will grow!), my horrible looking nails are slowly getting better, my skin and scars look great (as great as a scar and burnt skin can look like!), the hot flashes are getting milder (or I am getting used to them!), my ovaries are still not working (but there’s still hope!) and my energy levels will increase with time. At the end of the consultation she told me: “now go and have fun, enjoy life”.
Have fun. Sounds scary. I am not sure I know how to have fun anymore. Does it mean I have to relax now? Huummm, hard thing to do, I tell you.
The first step should be to stop staring into the mirror counting every single hair I see. It was easier to be bald during chemotherapy, I was so concentrated in keeping my food down that not having hair became secondary. Now that my face is round again, my eyes shine and my cheeks have some colour, not having hair became an obsession.
Today I saw a baby with less hair than me, when this thought crossed my mind “Ah! He has less hair than I do!” I had to laugh. Silly me, competing with a baby!
To be fair, I had some fun during these months, I can think of many occasions when I was relaxed and enjoying. I did a lot of things that make me happy and not all was bad.
But I do feel some kind of pressure to be happy now. Several people have asked me if I plan to do something special, radical, different or challenging. What people forget is that last year was all of that already and all I want now is peace. I actually just want normality, a routine that doesn’t include hospitals. No, I don’t feel the need to climb the Kilimanjaro, kayak the Mekong or meditate in India.

You can take the girl out of Portugal but you can't take Portugal out of the girl!

I had such a great time with my family I wish I could have stayed longer. And there's nothing like walking by the sea to cheer one up. Back in gloomy London now...

What’s next?

Today I had my last radiotherapy treatment. I feel relieved and happy. Now my skin can start healing and I don’t need to go to the clinic everyday anymore.
The next step is the hormone therapy, I have to take Tamoxifen for about 1825 days, that’s a long time! And once again, there are undesirable side effects such as hair loss (great, just what I needed!) and cancer (yes, I’m not kidding, Tamoxifen is a carcinogen). Hopefully I will suffer mild or no side effects at all. We will see. I can’t hide I am anxious about it. I would like to be able to say the treatments are over, but not yet, I have five more years to go with many doctor’s appointments and check-ups in between.
Once you are diagnosed with cancer every doctor’s appointment is like a trip down a rollercoaster that you don’t want to be on: has it come back? Is it cancer again? I talk to people about this but they don’t know what it is like. I have at least one doctor’s appointment per week and I start getting nervous the day before and totally unable to sleep the night before. If you have/had cancer you get it, if you don’t have cancer you don’t get it. It is a fear beyond my control. Every pain in any part of my body, every unusual thing, can be cancer again. It is hard to live with this uncertainty but since the beginning I have decided I am not going to waste years of my life being unhappy about it. Life goes on.
I’ve been having unpleasant leg pain and even after having X-rays done that showed everything is ok I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. This week I started having a sharp pain on my chest, and again I thought, oh my god it is back. I know it is irrational but I also know it is natural to feel like this. The chest pain was caused by the radiotherapy, some inflammation of a cartilage, nothing else.
I have two recurrent dreams, one where the doctor tells me this has all been a mistake and that I never had cancer and another where I am told they have found a cure. I wake up and I have to face that not only there’s no cure but they don’t even know the cause.
I have a lot of techniques to deal with my emotions and I have to say they have worked very well for me so far. I am also lucky to have so many amazing people around me that make sure I am well. Alone I wouldn’t have made it.
I hope I can find some peace of mind and be able to have a relaxed life despite all this. I think I will.

Top 10 news of my week

1. The last few remaining eyebrows fell out but the next day I woke up with a vigorous bush of new eyebrows growing. Fantastic! It’s still less than a millimetre long, but it looks great. I miss my dark thick eyebrows.
2. I lost all eyelashes some time ago and just like my eyebrows, the eyelashes are growing strong, very uneven and very slow, but they are there.
3. Ten weeks after the last chemo, the hair on my head is still very weak, scarce and ugly, but it seems to be growing a bit everywhere now. I’m not jumping of happiness yet but I stopped panicking, there’s hope!
4. After a long, stressful and frustrating search, I finally found a really nice bikini, it is pretty and it makes me look perfectly “normal”. It doesn’t cover the chest port, the bump stands out a bit, but I can live with that. I can’t wait to go on holidays now.
5. I started exercising with a personal trainer who has been helping me regain strength in my arms, correct posture, and build some muscle. It’s great and I feel very motivated. I am aware that it will take several months before I recover completely but I am on the right path.
6.  J. started working this week and I miss her company already. I've been so lucky to have here, she's been my guardian angel.
7. Tomorrow is my last radiotherapy session. The end. Time to celebrate. And to celebrate, recharge and get some miminhos from my family, Saturday I am going to Portugal. My mother’s sofa is the best place in the world to rest, nap and be lazy. After Portugal S. and I are going to pamper ourselves in a spa.
8. According to my acupuncturist my Qi is imbalanced (I’m not surprised, I actually think everything about my body is deficient at the moment), and to balance my Qi and help me sleep better I started taking some Chinese herbs.
9. I’ve been eating like a pig and I’m putting on weight faster than I lost during chemo. Urgent action required, bald whales are not attractive!
10. I am preparing myself to get back to work. It’s been eight months and I wonder if I still remember where my desk is...

Papá

I can't believe it's been a year already. Grieving is a strange process. The counselor I've seen a couple of times keeps repeating I have to allow myself to grieve, but I am not quite sure what makes her think I am not grieving. Maybe because so much has happened in the past year, maybe because I don't cry all the time, or maybe I am simply coping well. Things don't necessarily have to be heavy. I rely on my selective memory and think only about the happy moments. I wish I was in Espinho today and not alone here so far. It's been a year since anyone has asked me if I have alreay eaten and if it is cold. In my own way, I miss my father.

Last picture we took together. It was a happy day :)

Black salsify

This week's organic vegetable box surprised me with black salsify, something I had never seen, eaten or cooked before. So, there I went, in search of an appetising recipe. It is an easy to cook vegetable and very tasty as well. I made fritters that were delicious. It was so nice I will put it on my favourites list.

Here's the recipe:

400 g black salsify

2 teaspoons of lemon juice
1 tablespoon of olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
flour
2 tablespoons of olive oil for sauteing
2 fillets of smoked mackerel
parsley

Scrub the salsify and scrape the skin off. Steam for about 10 minutes and then mash the salsify and stir in the olive oil, lemon juice, parsley, smoked mackerel, salt, and pepper. Mix well. Shape in small flat cakes, roll in flour, and sauté in olive oil, browning first one side and then the other. If the cakes seem a bit too wet and soft, try adding some bread crumbs to the mash thicken it.

Black salsify contains proteins, fats, asparagine, choline, laevulin, as well as minerals such as potassium, calcium, phosphorus, iron, sodium, and vitamins A, B1, E and C. It is considered particularly suitable for diabetics.

Halfway through

Oh, time flies when you're having fun!

To celebrate, the radiotherapists told me I would have another X-ray taken today, to check if the positioning is still correct. Sure, beam me some more. All I had to do was lay there a bit longer while Mr. Beamer (the gigantic machine) took the X-ray before treatment started. Everything seems to be going according to plan. Nice to know.

How were these last two and half weeks? I have a mild skin burn, a perfectly formed brownish rectangle, which doesn't hurt or itch. I have had breakfast in all of Marylebone High Street cafes', while reading the paper. I've been to more exhibitions than I can remember now. I did lots of shopping. I've been to the gym, although still exercising like an old lady; I still feel very tired from the chemo, or maybe, should I say, already tired from the radio. I've been happily busy and hardly noticed these weeks going by.

My days of freedom are coming to an end and soon I'll be going back to work. Hurray, a normal life, finally.

Having a no hair day

Seven and a half weeks after my last chemo and I still have no real hair, just some ugly fluff. And no signs of eyelashes or eyebrows yet. I try not to worry but I am very anxious. I WANT MY HAIR BACK! NOW!

To make things worse, I have to renew my passport this month and the Portuguese consulate was very helpful (I am not being ironic here, they were helpful for once) in informing me yesterday (one day before my appointment) that I could not take the photos wearing a scarf, except if worn for religious reasons, which is not my case. Or I could go au naturel. No way, I don’t want to see my bald head on my passport for the next ten years! Against my will and feeling very self-conscious, I wore my wig for the first time today. Regan went out for the first time, after being in a box for the past 5 months.

There was I, taking pictures at the consulate, feeling stupid and knowing that I will carry a passport that will remind me of my chemo days even when I am on holidays, far away trying to forget it all.

Not nice. I hate chemo.

Another little treat



Turning into a drama queen

I feel so decrepit! All I can do is complain about my looks. No hair, no nails, dry and grey skin, no boob, no sleep, always tired... Since my toenail episode I have been completely obsessed about my nails. I assumed that since the chemo was finished so would the side effects. Unfortunately not. Yesterday two fingernails detached from the nail bed, you can probably imagine how affected and sad I was. I don’t like crying alone, it’s a bit like drinking alone, it’s depressing, so I waited until S. got home and the moment he got in I did a little ‘sniff sniff, waah, waah’ and got a good dose of “miminhos”* which made me feel immediately better. That’s what husbands are for. My nails are in a critical condition! They have been sore, yellow, deformed and weak for months, but I was hoping they would not fall off. Wrong, I was wrong. The upside is now I have the perfect excuse not to do dishes or any other task I dislike, eh, eh!

But do you know who is more decrepit than me? Rod Stewart. I saw him shopping today, I was queuing to pay behind him and his wife (a very tall girl, taller than me and I am 180cm). His voice is unmistakable, and so is his hair. I thought it was cool to see him but he looks a bit passé.

Today I had a consultation with my radiotherapy oncologist and decided to ask if she had any tips on how to take care of my nails. She called the nurse, who called another nurse and before I knew it I had three people analysing my nails and giving me tips. Basically there’s not much I can do apart from cutting them as short as possible and avoiding using the tip of my fingers. They are doomed, condemn to death. And to make it worse, I was told that a nail may take six months to grow back. Will I ever look normal again?

During the consultation I also took the opportunity to mention something that has been worrying me for a while. I have been having some pain on my lower leg, a persistent annoying pain, similar to the bone pain I had during chemo. To give me some peace of mind she sent me to have an X-ray done. I brought the X-rays with me but unfortunately when I look at it all I can see is very straight normal looking bones. Luckily, the nurse called me in the afternoon to let me know it all looks absolutely fine, which is a relief. I have to relax and stop worrying about every single little ache.

My fighting mode seems to be off since Christmas. Everything seems heavier than before. I am sad more often and I worry all the time. I am aware of this and I am trying to reverse it. I started doing some yoga exercises at home with the help of a DVD someone gave me, I go to the gym more often, I have massages every week, I do fun stuff and I became a shopaholic. I admit, I buy just for the fun of buying. I discovered the therapeutic effects of shopping. How come no one thought of adding shopping to the list of complementary therapies? When I was working, and actually making some money, I had no time to go shopping and spend money, now I can spend hours in shops, it’s great. I never bought so many clothes as in these last two months. Most of it on sale so I only feel half-guilty but still... Do I need all these new clothes? Not really. Does it make me feel good? Oh yes it does.

While walking in the labyrinth of corridors of the clinic, one of the breast cancer nurses asked me if I would like to participate in a fund raising event. I said ‘Sure but what would that entail?’ ‘Modelling’, she said. ‘Me modelling, you must be kidding?’ She thought I would be a good candidate to model in a fashion show organised every year where cancer patients participte as models. But me?? Well, believe it or not I said yes. I guess I felt flattered. I hope they refuse my application.

I am on a quest to find a decent post-mastectomy bikini. Through a fellow blogger I found a website that has some nice stuff so I ordered one online. I hate buying clothes online, specially something like a bikini which is always so hard to chose, but I don’t have other alternatives. I am going on holidays in April and I need to get something by then. I hope my hair grows to a decent size before April otherwise I will have to swim in the sea showing my bald head. Not really looking forward to do that.

Talking about the frustration of not having hair, I need to renew my passport and I am not sure if I can take pictures wearing a scarf. I bought fake eyelashes (which actually look great), but there’s no way I can fake proper eyebrows.Wearing a wig without eyebrows looks weird. Taking the picture without a scarf is out of the question. And I am not very good with make-up and all that. Panic, panic! What shall I do?

* kisses and cuddles

Eureka!

Problem:

Solution:

Ahhhh! Feel so much better now... ;-)

Just when I thought things were getting better

This morning, after showering, while cleaning my feet with the towel, one of my toe nails fell off. I thought I was going to faint and throw up, all at the same time. I got so dizzy I had to sit down and call S. to cover my toe with a plaster. I can stand blood and needles, look at wounds and scars, assist an autopsy without feeling sick, but nails... specially toe nails, not that!

Once I saw a man with six toes, he was wearing flip-flops and when I looked at his feet and realised he had six toes my stomach just turned inside out. I don’t know what my problem is with feet, toes and nails, but the truth is it really made me queasy.

The problem with loosing this nail is that now I know I will lose some more because I have other nails that look equally disgusting and ready to abandon me. I was convinced my hand nails were getting better but now I don’t know anymore, I am afraid they also will fall off, just to make me look even more like a cancer patient. They are yellow, curved and slightly detached from the flesh, very sexy!

More than six weeks after the last chemo, when things should be improving, my eyebrows are still fading away (eyelashes completely gone), there’s still no sign of proper hair growth and I am tired as never before. I thought that my Portuguese genes would guarantee a rapid and strong hair growth, I wouldn’t even mind getting a moustache if that meant I would get my thick hair back.

I am going to the podiatrist tomorrow and will show him my ‘nailess’ toe. My repugnant verruca is still having fun on my foot, enjoying my weakened immune system to grow. The things one has to put up with in life!

Wishful thinking

Today I dreamt I had hair, I had long luscious locks. The dream was so real I could feel my fingers running through the hair. In my dream I was in the shower shampooing my long hair... So cruel! When I woke up reality seemed a nightmare.

The truth is, six weeks after my last chemo, I still only have very few fine fuzzy baby hair. I am always so naïf, I always expect the best and was convinced that by now I would already have thick stubble all over my head. I was wrong.

Having to accept the fact that I will not be able to walk around without a scarf so soon, I decided I had to buy more scarves. And so I did. I went shopping and bought some colourful and flowery ones, different shapes and styles.

Still on the hair front, I have lost all my eyelashes - I look really funny, it makes me look very different – and my eyebrows look ridiculous, there are only 10 left, literally, and I wonder if I should just pluck them off.

Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and wake up when all this is over.

Is that it?

The title of this post should be “1 down 24 more to go” but unfortunately, suffering from chemo-brain, I am not sure if I will be able to count backwards...

Chemo-brain is an interesting phenomenon, I read about it but until recently I couldn’t believe it was real. It all started when I noticed I had difficulties reading, words didn’t make sense and I couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes. Then I started forgetting things and very often I couldn’t find the right words to say what I wanted. It is all very subtle, it’s not like if I went completely gaga! At least not yet! It is very frustrating though. I blame it on anxiety and fatigue combined with the chemotherapy treatment. Trying to deal with my current chicken memory condition, I started writing everything on my agenda and keeping lists for everything, but, as expected, I tend to forget to look at my agenda and end up mixing appointment and arriving too early or too late.

Luckily today I got to my first radiotherapy appointment on time, no mix ups, and no delays. I chose to be the first patient every morning, it keeps the rest of my day free and gets me back into a routine. This week I will be discussing the possibility of going back to work with the occupational health physician of my employer, if he agrees that I am well enough to go back, having radiotherapy early in the morning is great, I can go straight from the clinic to the office without wasting too much time.

Let me now try to give a short description of my day. As usual I spent half of the night awake, stressing about everything and upset with myself for not being able to relax. I woke up before the alarm rang and got up feeling dead tired. It is a gloomy, rainy day today, so I decided to take a cab to the clinic instead of waiting for the bus in the dark and rain. After a small chat with the radiotherapist about skin care, side effects and all that usual bla-bla, I signed a form, once again, and went to the treatment room. “Undress waist up”, “lie down here”, “put your arms there”, “a bit more to the side”, “now don’t move”, “try to relax”, etc. The radiotherapists make some pen marks on my skin, right where my lovely tattoos are, align the machine and explain me that they will start by taking an x-ray of my chest. They leave the room, leaving Red Hot Chilli Peppers playing, the By the Way album, if I am not wrong, and after three songs I was done. The radiation is given in two positions and each radiation lasts no longer than 15 or 20 seconds. So, the machine rotates until it gets into the right position, beams me some photons, rotates again, beams me some more and that’s it. I felt absolutely nothing, my arms didn’t hurt and all that stress was for nothing.

That’s it. This was my first radiotherapy session. I got dressed and headed to the ground floor, to the Macmillan centre where I had booked my first massage. I am entitled to four massages, it is a luxury that I will not waste. The massage was nice, I got so relaxed I almost fell asleep.

At noon I had an appointment at the St John and St Elizabeth Hospital with the physiotherapist, once again I lie down, third time this morning, and get a massage and some stretching exercises for my arm, which is getting better and better.

As soon as I got home I applied some of the aqueous cream the radiotherapist gave me. I hope my skin won’t get too damaged.

It doesn’t seem like a lot, but for me this was a full day. I feel exhausted. Going to watch some trash TV now.

Swedes and Jerusalem Artichokes

Since I started ordering organic fruit and vegetables online, I’ve came across vegetables I hadn’t cooked or eaten before such as swede and Jerusalem artichoke which interestingly is neither from Jerusalem nor an artichoke. Each week I get boxes of seasonal fruits and vegetables delivered at home and as it is seasonal the content varies depending on what is available that week. I almost get disappointed when the box doesn’t surprise me with something new.

With these two “new” vegetables (or should I call it tubers or roots?), swede and Jerusalem artichokes, I made two delicious soups that I can’t resist sharing with you (well, share the recipes not the soup!). Swedes are very similar to turnips, they are actually a cross between turnips and kale. It has a rough skin and it is a rather ugly looking thing, but it is very tasty. Jerusalem artichokes have equally an unattractive appearance but have a delicious sweet and nutty taste.

As I didn’t know how to cook them, I went to the supplier’s website looking for suggestions. I found some nice recipes, here they are, stolen directly from Abel & Cole’s website:

Creamy Swede and Bacon

1 swede
4 rashers bacon, rinded and chopped
40 g butter (I used olive oil)
2 tbsp single cream
Salt and pepper

Peel the swede and cut into smallish cubes. Bring to the boil and then simmer for approximately 15-20 minutes, or until tender. Drain thoroughly. Heat half of the butter and fry the chopped bacon until it begins to crisp. Return the swedes to the pan and add the rest of the butter and the cream, mashing until creamy. Season to taste with the salt and pepper and serve immediately

Jerusalem Artichoke and Hazelnut Soup

400g Jerusalem artichokes (about 8)
1 tbsp butter & 1 tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
4 tbsp hazelnuts, toasted & ground
2 tbsp sherry, Marsala or apple juice (I didn’t have these so I used Port wine instead)
4 thyme sprigs, leaves only
600ml chicken or veg stock, warmed (I don’t like cooking with stock, so I put just water, salt and pepper)
2 tbsp cream (optional, I didn’t use any)

Scrub your Jerusalem artichokes clean. Otherwise, you'll end up with a really earthy (literally) taste! Use a pastry brush to get into all the little nooks.

Pop butter and oil into a pot with a wide bottom - this will help your veggies caramelise and cook faster. Place over medium heat, when the butter starts to foam, toss the onions in and cook slowly, over medium‐low heat for 15‐20 minutes, until they're really golden.

Thinly slice Jerusalem artichokes (you can leave the skin on). Add to onions, along with garlic, pop lid on. Sweat for 20‐30mins, stirring every 5mins, until they're really soft.

Add hazelnuts, stir. Splash in the sherry. Let it sizzle for a few minutes, then add thyme leaves and stock. Blitz until smooth, season and finish with cream, if you fancy - great with, but still fab without.

Bon appétit!

Some days are better than others

Today I am having a bad day. Maybe it’s because of the rain and grey sky, maybe not. I woke up feeling sad, with a knot in my throat, hating everything about my sick body. I hate the way I look, the fact that I always feel so tired and the constant discomfort caused by all kind of small annoying things like having very sensitive sore nails both in my hands and feet, having pain in both arms, either because of the phlebitis or the cording, having some digestive problems, being forgetful and confused at times, and having hot flashes and night sweats, a subject I have avoided writing about in here. For about two months now I have been having menopause symptoms, one of my most feared side effects of chemotherapy. My ovaries stopped working, maybe not permanently, that is what I am hoping for. I feel I am losing my femininity: lost a breast, lost all my hair, look tired and old, will most likely never become a mother and will never breast feed. I know some things are temporary like the hair loss and that the most important is to be alive and well. People can tell me this over and over again but I can’t get used to the idea that I am not the healthy person I thought I was before all this cancer thing happened. I want to live until I am 90 (or more!), healthy, happy and elegant. With all these worries I am going to get wrinkled, grey and turn into a grumpy old lady.

The problem with cancer is that there is no cure. Doctors remove the tumour and subject you to heavy treatments but there’s no guarantee they got rid of all cancer cells. I will have doctor’s appointments for the rest of my life. This week I asked my surgeon “Is my prognosis good?” to which he answered “yes, your prognosis is good but as you know no one has a crystal ball.” I guess I have to learn to live with it.

Now back to reality. I am going to the kitchen now, to make a chocolate cake for my sweet husband, it’s his birthday tomorrow. Nothing like baking while listening to music to cheer me up.

Déjà vu!

So... the lymphatic cording is back! It's really annoying, it seems like the inconveniences just pile up.

About ten days ago my right arm started hurting and I started having difficulties lifting it up. It feels like there are tight cords in my arm, pulling it down, it is actually visible when I pull the arm up, two or three rope-like lines sticking out from under my arm, a bit like in this picture.

As during radiotherapy I need to be able to hold my arms straight up, I decided to call my surgeon to show him my arm and ask what to do. He believes there's nothing to worry about and that it doesn't look like lymphedema. He recommended some more physiotherapy sessions where I will get massages and stretching exercises to try to soften the cords. Last time physiotherapy helped, so I can only hope this can be solved quickly, preferably before the 17th, when radiotherapy is due to start.

Today I also had to go to the clinic to have my port flushed, something I have to do every four weeks, give or take.

I can't get rid of hospitals, doctors, nurses, therapists, and the like!

And today I got a tattoo

I always liked tattoos but never had the courage to actually get one. The beach is the best place to spot nice tattoos, or the gym, where especially guys like to show off their tattoos (and muscles!). And of course I have no problems looking at nice tattoos, or muscled bodies!

My tattoo is a special one and one that I will not be able to show off.

This morning I went to the clinic for the radiotherapy planning appointment. The radiographer started by giving me a brief explanation of what was going to happen and handing me my treatment schedule and some leaflets with useful information about the treatment and about the complementary therapies that I am entitled to. More information to put in the already full bookshelf where I keep all leaflets and books on breast cancer and treatments! She talked about the side effects and how to care for my skin, she also gave some advice like not to shave or wax under my arms. Well, that's easy, there's no signs of hair anywhere yet. I then signed the consent form and took an MRSA swab screen. After undressing from waist up (except the scarf, I didn’t feel like walking around with my head naked!) and putting on one of the hospital gowns, the radiographer took me to the CT scan machine where I had to lie with my arms up for quite some time while the radiographer and a colleague adjusted the machine, made some pen marks and put some wires on my skin. I lie there looking at a picture of a blue sky with fluffy white clouds that hangs from the ceiling while some green laser beams divide my chest into parts. I guess the picture is there to help patients relax. And I definitely need to relax. Even for a simple appointment like today's I get super anxious and stressed. They all leave the room for the scanning. Once the scan is done, one of the radiographers comes in to make two permanent tattoos on my chest, two small blue dots that will help them position the machine for each treatment. The radiotherapy needs to be given to the exact same part of my torso every time and these two dots will help ensure that. I have now two new blue freckles.

When you’re living with cancer, what makes a good day? *

During chemo I rediscovered the pleasure of warm baths. Soaking in a hot bath helped alleviate the bone and muscle pain, and when the pain was really bad, I would spend hours in hot water.  Now I bathe to relax and there's nothing better than a nice fluffy foam to help relieve the stress.

* Phrase stolen from Macmillan's Good Day campaign: "When you're living with cancer, the difference between a good day and a bad day can often come down to really small things." http://www.macmillan.org.uk/GetInvolved/Brand/TakeAction.aspx