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