One better than none

Only one egg was fertilised with success and is ready for freezing. One tiny little embryo will be waiting for me when I get an all clear from the doctors. All it takes is one, so I will stay optimist and will hope for the best. Science is amazing, there's a little me stored in a frozen tank!

Harvesting day

As chemotherapy and hormone therapy are most likely to cause infertility, after long discussions with doctors and aware of the risks involved, I’ve decided to go through IVF treatment and to have some embryos frozen. After two weeks of daily injections (that I had to give to myself, and the first injection took me almost 15 minutes to give!), today I went for egg collection. Disappointingly, from the 7 follicles shown in the scan, only two contained mature eggs, of good enough quality to create embryos. This means the chances of ever having a biological child are very very slim. Mother Nature hasn’t been very generous with me lately. But the way I see it, better two than none, so I will keep my fingers crossed and hope that the embryologist manages to fertilise them both successfully. Tomorrow afternoon I will know how the fertilisation went.

A tough cookie

Someone recently told me “You’re a tough cookie!” She was right because I feel strong and able to deal with cancer :)

Waiting for the chemo to start

The worst part of all this is the waiting. Waiting for appointments, waiting for tests, waiting for results, waiting for surgery, waiting for treatments to start,... and waiting for more results and more appointments... the anxiety this creates is unexplainable.
But finally I have a date for the first chemotherapy session. Somehow I feel calm now.

Life-changing news

When I initially went to the doctor I was told that it was probably just a cyst and that I shouldn’t worry. I had no risk factors for breast cancer, apart from being white and a woman. I am young, with no family history and in good health. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I am not overweight and I sport.
I was referred to a breast specialist who decided to have a mammogram, an ultrasound, an MRI and a biopsy done. I never thought I had cancer, I was sure it was just a lump, so when I was told I had breast cancer I was incredibly shocked and my first reaction was to think it was a mistake. I asked the doctor if he was sure, if the file he had in front of him was really mine and I even asked what were the chances they had swapped the samples in the lab. He calmly told me yes, there was no doubt it was cancer, my file had been discussed in a group meeting and although they never expected it, he was sorry to confirm that I had cancer. He explained me the hospital protocol and that the chances of swapping samples was minimal to nil. I was then given a box of tissues and a glass of water. I didn’t cry and I didn’t need water. I asked: “So, what is the next step now?” and “What do I need to know about cancer?” This was on the 11th of June 2010. I went alone to the appointment because, once again, I never thought it could be cancer. When I went in the doctor’s room that day, he asked me if I was alone. In the room was also a MacMillan nurse. I immediately felt there was something wrong. It is a very strange feeling to be told you have cancer. I knew very little about it and didn’t even know what to ask.
After being diagnosed, I felt I had to tell my family and close friends, I didn’t quite know how to tell them but I wanted to say it out loud to make it more real. Until I started talking about it, it felt like it wasn’t me who was ill. I received the most amazing support and heard encouraging words from my family and friends, they helped me to see it wasn’t all bad and that I could survive this and have a healthy happy life afterwards.
I was diagnosed on a Friday and spent most of the weekend crying, feeling afraid, angry and sad. I started reading about breast cancer and the more I read the more I realised my whole life was about to change. I had to stop trying o get pregnant and maybe even accept the fact that I wouldn’t be able to have children at all in the future. My physical appearance was going to change. I would have to have surgeries and to go through heavy treatments. It would have to spend the next year in and out of hospitals. I would have to stop working. I knew very little about cancer and I felt things were taken out of my hands and that I had very little control.
Although most brochures refer to it as a life-threatening condition, I don’t see it like that, for me it is a serious illness, a long term condition.
In a short period of time, I lost my father, I lost a pregnancy and I was diagnosed with a serious illness. I hadn’t yet recovered from the losses when I was diagnosed and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to cope with one more bad news. But I am lucky because the support I’ve been receiving from my family and friends is amazing. It helps me go through this very tough period and gives me strength to keep on going.
My biggest fear at the moment is that I get secondary breast cancer, that it has spread to other parts of my body. I know my prognosis is good but I cannot stop thinking about it. More frightening than the treatments or the changes to my life, it is the uncertainty of having recurrent cancer. All it needs is a little cancer cell to get lost somewhere in my body to start this whole ordeal over again.

One in eight women...

...are affected by breast cancer over the course of their lifetimes.
I am back but unfortunately with not so good news this time.

And our life in boxes again...