May Contain Nuts

It does exactly what it says on the tin

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    • Sunday 4th January 2026 

      I was hoping to have written this blog on Saturday, but things went a bit pear shaped and I had to rest. I’ll tell you about that later but first I’ll fill you in on the other events that have happened before that. 

      Day 11, Sunday, Clare popped in for a little while to see me which was an absolute treat for a Sunday. Hannah didn’t have a match, so I wasn’t really doing much (apart from reading). 

      On Monday, Day 12, the in-laws came over for dinner as we hadn’t seen them all over Christmas. I didn’t cook; we had fish and chips from the shop round the corner and just sat chatting for a while. They left before 8pm as they had to get back to call Simon’s uncle. I was happy with that as Garry, and I, had organised during the day to listen to Ship Full of Bombs Indie Night In, hosted Al, that had been announced that morning. It was a lovely, funny, musical evening but I must change my facetime/music listening set-up as there is now the bonus of a WhatsApp group chat. It used to be Twitter, but it’s a bit of a ghost town over there. 

      Tuesday, Day 13, was another impromptu event and we all went to Manzano lounge for lunch with Steve, Liz & Nicky. It was so nice to see everyone after the very quiet Christmas that we had. Only Simon and Steve were drinking whilst us girls were all on the teas and coffees and juices! 

      Day 14, New Years Eve, saw Liz, Nicky, Tom, Clare and Brodie coming over to our house for a get together. My head was quite hot all evening, which it has never done before, but I didn’t think too much of it. It was just so nice to feel normal and do what we usually do on New Years Eve. Clare and I weren’t drinking, so we had a bottle of the Kylie non-alcoholic prosecco. It was ok. Tasted more like a fizzy grape juice. I couldn’t taste the prosecco but then again, my taste buds are still not normal. It did feel nice to have a wine glass again. The 0% Fevertree Gin and Tonic is a winner for my taste buds. 

      Speaking of alcohol free, if it’s a drink that contains no alcohol, is it acceptable to have one at 10am? I like tonic water, but the gin and tonic have a better taste to it, and I would rather drink that then just the tonic. What am I asking you for? I will drink whatever I want to drink, when I want it, because you can’t see what I’m up to! 

      Thursday, Day15, was a bit of a tidy up and rest day. The tree is now down, and most of the decorations are back in their boxes. I have been struggling to sleep this week as I’m getting anxious about my upcoming appointment at the hospital. I tried to do things to take my mind off it, but that never works, so I still went to bed worrying. 

      Hospital Day, Day 16, Friday 2nd January 2026 is a day to remember for all the right reasons. Simon, Emily and I got to the Breast Unit nice and early. I assumed we would be sitting in the waiting room, but we were told to go down the right-hand corridor and to take a seat in that waiting area. That was something new and different. My appointment was for a mammogram and an ultrasound, so checks had to be made as my last mammogram was on May 6th. It’s dangerous due to radiation exposure so they had to get permission from the doctor first. I was called into the room, told to take my top and bra off, and then my right breast was then clamped in the machine and had its x-ray picture taken again. I got dressed and went back into the waiting room. Within minutes, I was called in to see the radiographer, where I had to strip off again to have the ultrasound done. I’m not sure why I wasn’t given the usual burgundy top to get changed into, but it is what it is. As the radiographer was doing the ultrasound, she said that she had already looked at the mammogram and – the treatment has worked beautifully – was how she broke the news to me. She said if it wasn’t for the titanium marker that had been attached to the cancerous cells, she wouldn’t have found where it was. She turned the screen to me, like I was an expectant mother, and showed me the titanium marker and the area where the cancer had been found. She said that all that was there was either a small lump, or a scar in my tissue where the cancer once was. That will all be cut out, and hopefully many of the breast cysts will go too. I came out of the room and gave the good news to Simon and Emily. I then called Hannah to let her know too. Simon then took Emily and I out to Scott’s of Southend for a celebratory lunch. Unfortunately, Hannah was off to work so she couldn’t join us. We will have to go out to dinner instead.  

      By the evening, I was struggling with a sore throat. I didn’t think anything of it as sometimes it is the side effect of the immunotherapy. I was very cold at bedtime, so Simon had to stay cuddling up with me to keep me warm. My extremities were frozen. When I woke in the morning, Day 17, Saturday, my cheeks were bright red, and I wasn’t feeling right. First thing I did was to take my temperature and one ear said 37.7 and the other was 38.4, which instantly put me into a panic. I know it’s Day 17 but that doesn’t mean that my immunity is enough to fight off an infection. By 11am, I had been taking my temperature every 15 minutes, and it hadn’t gone under 37.5 so I called the emergency number for advice. It took them an hour to return my call, and I knew what they would say, if it hasn’t gone down, I will need to go to A&E. I was put on hold for a few minutes whilst they nurse checked with the doctor, so I checked my temperature again. 37.3. I told the nurse the new reading and he said that if it goes up again, I need to go straight there. I said I would, but I really didn’t want to. It was the thought of going in and being stuck on a ward for a few days that scared me. I don’t want to be observed; I wanted peace and quiet to get better. 

      My body told me it was tired, so I took myself off to bed for a nap. When I awoke, my temperature was still under 37.5 and it continued to gradually go down as the day went on. This morning it is back to normal. Just a bloody shame that I had to cancel a Saturday night out because I was worried that getting a cold was going to lead to sepsis. The chemo nurse had said to me yesterday that I am still in the vulnerable stage and I must look after myself. I’m just glad that it happened now and not a few months ago. It would’ve postponed my treatment. I’m hoping it doesn’t affect the immunotherapy on the 13th. I don’t want to take a cold onto the chemo unit. I had a few coughing fits during the night, my nose is a bit sniffy, but that is about it. I will stay home and look after myself until it’s gone. 

    • Saturday 27th December 2025 

      Day 10 and this round of chemotherapy has done everything just slightly early, which has thrown me a little bit. Even down to the diarrhoea that started in the morning instead of the evening. The fuzziness started Thursday instead of Friday along with the strange aches and pains in the legs and the indigestion (I dislike the indigestion as it makes it feel as if there is something constantly stuck in my throat/chest). It didn’t ruin Christmas for us though as everything was very dialled down. It all felt relaxed and exactly what I needed. I didn’t get breathless once and Simon and Emily helped so much in the kitchen. I mean, it was only left-over vegan turkey, with jacket potatoes, cauliflower and broccoli cheese, and glazed carrots. But I wasn’t on my own in the kitchen. Simon and Emily went out to see Nanny and Granddad, whilst I did not much, and for the rest of the evening we just all lay on the sofa watching tv and eating cheese and crackers. It was weird not having Hannah with us, but she had her Christmas Day with Tom and his family. It was perfect for us. 

      I had to give in to the painkillers last night and had a couple of them at 2am. I thought I could cope, I wasn’t using the hot water bottle either, but I could feel myself curling up into a ball which is what happened the first time I had the pains. I’ve only taken paracetamol twice in the past 22 weeks and both times it has made me dizzy about half an hour afterwards. It’s no doubt in the long list of side effects that paracetamol might give you, but I only ever usually take it for a headache or cold and used to think it was connected to that.  

      The other difference to this round is my family. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I have been more determined to do things, or maybe I look better (the jury is out on that one), but they have been expecting me to do more than I have done previously. Yes, there have been days where they have had to do a lot for me, and I have always been very grateful for the help. But Simon thought that I would like to go to the Southend United Boxing Day match. Then today, he made a comment about having to go shopping on his own (the girls are at work) as if I have always gone shopping throughout my treatment (I haven’t on this week as I’m only allowed to see one or two people at home, not the busy aisles of a supermarket). Maybe, to them, they saw my last chemotherapy day as the last day of treatment and it’s all over. Unfortunately for my body I have been treating Day 21 as the last day, as that’s when I would’ve been back to the hospital for the next round. So, for now, I’m trying to take it easy on my body and not push it too hard. It’s coped so far, I don’t want to exhaust it when the end is in sight. I just don’t want a set back and need a blood transfusion because I pushed myself too much because my family has left me doing too much. 

      It’s weird how much I am acutely aware of how my body is and what I need to do to help it now. On a normal day, I would eat my breakfast, go to work, get a rumbly stomach at 11am, ignore it, carry on working without any drink or food, eat before leaving work (or if I was getting angry), come home, have a cup of tea, then wonder why I was grumpy git. It’s as if I was just taking advantage of my body as I thought it was perfectly healthy. Funny that. 

      Now, I am seeing a regular physiotherapist to help my body cope with strains it has on through chemotherapy. She knows instantly the weeks that I have been feeling sickly as my back curls more inwards. My legs become misaligned when my back has been at its worst. And she is now helping me with my right arm as my bicep muscle is now constricting the tendons down it as I spend most of my time trying to protect the picc line from any danger or harm.  

      My fluid intake has never been this high in years. I drink all the time, even if I don’t like it or if it tastes weird, I move on to the next drink until I am satisfied. I drink more to flush through the toxins in my body and get them out quicker. I drink more to keep my bowels softer as the other option is bloody painful. I drink more because I don’t want to be told off by the nurse again, who said that my blood levels were down as I hadn’t kept myself hydrated! The only downside is that my bladder never tells me that it is full, but the elastic or the button on my waistband does. I used to say that I had the bladder of a camel. I now realise that my lack of fluid during the day was not something I should be boasting about. 

      Even though my back and thighs are still hurting today, the fuzziness is lifting. It is starting to feel like my body is mine again and it’s making me feel a bit itchy to start planning things. Chemotherapy has always been hanging over my head as the thing that has stopped me from doing things/going places. I didn’t want to catch germs and affect the treatment, so I only went to small places with few people. Now I can start thinking about going on a train to London, going to a pub, or even going to a gig. But the thing I have been craving the most is to be able to book something without having to check the calendar to see if that is on the right week. Most of my replies to people’s invites have been – sorry, it’s not my good week. Or they check with me first to see what date I can do before they even book anything. The freedom to do what I want, when I want, is tantalizingly close. 

      The frustration of not knowing dates for surgery or radiotherapy is annoying as it is still putting all my plans on hold. Yes, I have a plan. Not big life changing plans, but when you’ve been self-isolating and watching people get on with life, it really makes you want to get out of the world and explore places that you have put off going to. I mean, these are not life-changing things. I’m not suddenly going to sell everything and move abroad, but I’m not going to sit at home every day. There are loads of local walks that I have never done. I used to go to the gym late at night as I was at work during the day, now I can see what I’ve been missing! And I need to go back. I have done a lot of resting, a bit too much.  

      Mantra for the next part of my life:  

      Do something for you, every day. 

    • Tuesday 23rd December 2025 

      I’m hoping this is the last time that I feel like this. The ups and downs of chemotherapy have been tough, and sometimes they are manageable. And then there are days like today when I don’t want to go through it all again, but I am already on the rollercoaster, so I just get on and cope with it.  

      I went to bed at 10pm last night and I’m pretty sure I fell asleep shortly afterwards. But sleep didn’t stay; the hot flushes started so I had to throw the covers off to cool down. That didn’t last long so I had to cover myself over again. And then the hot flush came back. You can repeat this all night and include in the dream that I had where I needed to get myself a drink, but I didn’t wake up in real life and bit myself on the cheek quite hard. So that woke me up as it really hurt, and then I was worried that I had damaged the inside of my mouth. I struggled to get back to sleep and was worried about keeping Simon awake, but he was already struggling with his own inability to have a good night’s sleep. A bad night’s sleep doesn’t really set you up for the day very well. 

      Breakfast was a struggle. I woke up thinking that I’m hungry, so I took the anti-sickness pills so that I can eat, but my tastebuds have gone and there is nothing that I want to eat. I eat something bland as food needs to be consumed, but what’s the point of eating when you can’t taste anything. It all seems pointless, and that is where the problem is. Everything is an effort. Water doesn’t even taste right. Tea doesn’t taste right. I can manage some sparkling water as that tastes better, but there is no joy in anything. Food tastes strange, but my stomach rumbles and I want to eat, but I don’t know what to eat to help. I had some toast with cream cheese and cucumber on the top and couldn’t taste a single morsel of it. I currently have a peppermint chewing gum in my mouth as that is the only thing I can taste right now. 

      My hands and skin feel so weird. It’s like every nerve ending is a bit numb. I can feel something in my fingers as I type, there are electrical pulses that I can feel occasionally but most of my body doesn’t feel like I’m connected to it. My hand rubbed against the side of my face as it felt a bit sore, but it felt more like a swollen cheek that had no idea what was being brushed against it. My skin is soft, but dry, and needs covering in moisturiser. I need to have a bath, but I don’t want to get cold getting in the bath, so I stay wrapped up in my dirty clothes because being uncomfortably cold is worse. My eyes want to stay closed, but my brain wants to be awake. I want to read my book because I have got to a good bit, but I don’t want to read as I can’t concentrate on what the words are saying. I could watch a programme, but what’s the point as I will fall asleep whilst it’s on. I could lie on the sofa and stare at a screen, but I don’t want to. There are lots of things that I want to do, but I just don’t want to do them as everything seems pointless. I don’t have the energy to do anything or the inclination to even try and do anything. The lethargy of chemotherapy is the hardest part for me.  

      The hospital told me the other day that my red blood cell count was low again. When I had the blood transfusion, it took my levels up to ninety-nine. It has since gone down to eighty-seven, then eighty-five, then up to eighty-seven, but they want me to give them a call if the tiredness is back as they will get me booked in for another transfusion. I would rather not have that as it made me feel a sick last time. I am trying to make the effort to get up and get dressed and do things around the house, but it is hard. 

      My fingernails have gotten too long, and they are annoying me, but I can’t face cutting and filing them. My nose is so cold and there is not one item of clothing that I can wear to help keep it warm, and it annoys me. Socks feel weird on my feet, but I need to keep my feet warm, so I wear them and my slippers. I’m hungry, I can’t taste anything, then my stomach gets bigger and my jogging bottoms get too tight, and then I hoist them up over the stomach bulge and don’t like how I feel. 

      I just feel like I’m moaning about anything and everything because there is nothing that can be done to help. It won’t last much longer. I know it won’t last much longer, but I wish it would stop soon. 

    • Sunday 21st December 2025 

      I’ve made a promise to myself this week to not be as slovenly as I normally am. I’m not going to let my last round of chemotherapy get to me. I’m going to make sure that I get myself washed and dressed and read books or watch a Christmas film or two. It knocks me out and I do rest, but sometimes spending too much time in pyjamas doesn’t help me. So, even if it’s just a change of night pyjamas to day pyjamas, a change has got to be better. Unfortunately, it’s hard to try and do things when you have been awake more than asleep during the night because of the achy legs and steroids. Plus, I think sometimes there is a bit of hunger in there as well. 

      On Friday I managed to get a few more Christmas decorations up. Saturday, I did a bit of housework and some tidying. Today my tastebuds are at the weird stage where they can cope with the water but it’s not tasting as good as it used to. But it’s the coldness that I struggle with. My nose is constantly cold, and I can always feel a draft around my neck. I either sit with a hoody up or a shawl around my head. I’m sitting here typing and my hands are getting cold. I have slippers and socks on, but my feet won’t warm up. I can snuggle up in bed and try and stay warm, and then the hot flush starts, and I kick the covers off quickly to cool myself down. Thankfully this only goes on for the time that I am injecting myself with filgrastim, which will finish on Wednesday so the hot flushes should ease after that. I take three anti-sickness pills every day this week and I’m constantly keeping a check of my bowel movements. These will be the things that I look forward to doing without in the future. 

      I was told last week that it may be my last chemotherapy, but I will continue with the immunotherapy alongside the surgery. They have assured me that I won’t need to have the filgrastim, so I can stop injecting myself. I will have two rounds of the Pembo every three weeks, and then it will change to every six weeks. But I have not been told when this will end, so let’s just hope it won’t go on for longer than the year that they originally told me.  

      I’m going to stop typing now as my fingers are too cold to continue. I could’ve taken breaks, but the way my brain is working it would forget what I have been doing. Besides, I wanted to get this finished. 

    • Round 4 Chemotherapy Thursday 18th December 2025 

      I’m not sure how to describe how I felt this morning. It was the last chemotherapy, so I was happy about that, but I didn’t want to put my body through one more round. But it had to be done. 

      Walked onto Bay 2 and was offered a choice of any of the six chairs. There was a brand-new chair, so I chose to try that out. I can confirm that it was not the most comfortable and needed a pillow behind you to either sit on or rest against. It was so newfangled; it had scales built into it which they promised they would turn off so that no-one else could see my weight! 

      A little while after I arrived, a younger man turned up. I had heard him talking to someone in the waiting room about his daily radiotherapy and weekly chemotherapy. He wasn’t feeling too good so he had curtains around him so he could sleep. 

      After he arrived, Pauline from my last chemo session came into Bay 2 and she chose to sit next to me. She was very happy to see me as I think she likes to have a familiar face. She had previously told me about her health anxiety and how she carries everything in a bag with her in case she needs anything. She asked me how my bone pain was after the last round, and I told her that it was so much better than the round before, and all I had taken was one lot of paracetamols. She told me that after her first injection, she either passed out or had a seizure, and they had to call the chemo unit and call out an ambulance. She had to stop her filgrastim injections, and they were now changing the injections to a milder course. Pauline was on her last EC the same as me and now she will be changing to paclitaxel, which was the weekly one that I started with. Although, I think she is having hers every three weeks. It still blows my mind that everyone’s treatment is so different. 

      There was an older lady in the bed opposite next to the window, but she didn’t have any treatment and then the chair was cleaned. I have no idea why, but these things often happen. I was happy to see Linda arrive and take that chair. We had two other men in the bay with us; one had a loud phone and was constantly sending messages or calling people, the other man wasn’t talking to anyone and refused any food that Bev offered to him as he had his own food. So, Linda’s arrival meant that it was a half and half split and we could sit and chat and ignore the men. Linda being Linda, arrived with a sparkling musical Christmas hat and her Christmas t-shirt. She had bought Megan, the nurse, some Christmas socks, so Megan made her a Father Christmas which got Linda very emotional. She was saying that she has been having a few down days. Her chemo is palliative care, and she has been having treatment since 2018, but she has been thinking that what if this year is her last Christmas. She has always been so positive, the growth on her liver has shrunk in size, but there will come a time when the chemotherapy stops working and she will have to stop treatment. She doesn’t want to give up; she wants to keep fighting. I just hope there is a breakthrough soon that will help her. 

      Pauline gave me a small bag full of hats. She said that someone had given them to her, but some of them were just too small for her, and she wondered if they would fit me. I tried a couple on, and they felt comfortable, so I thought it was easier to take them all and try them on in a more relaxed environment. When I got them home, I washed them all. Some of them are for children so I will donate them to either pre-loved re-loved or I will bring them back with me and see if the chemo unit can pass them to the children’s unit. 

      We had lunch, had our EC chemotherapy, and Pauline left a few minutes before me. I said goodbye to Linda and the grumpy men. It’s quicker to have chemo without the cold cap, but it’s disappointing that I couldn’t do the full 16. I’m happy with no hair, I was always happy to have no hair. It’s just sad to know that the cold cap couldn’t save all my hair and left me with bald patches anyway. I would’ve stopped sooner if I had known. I would’ve either continued to the end to finish the course or never bothered in the first place. We were just never going to know how my body would react. Some people had to stop after a couple of uses; I managed 14. 

      Simon brought me home and he went off to work. Emily was at university and Hannah went off to work. It’s weird to think that they used to all try and stay at home to look after me. Now they just bugger off and leave me! It’s not become such a part of my life that they know I can manage and look after myself for a few more days.

    • Round 3 Chemo Thursday 27th November 2025 

      Hannah should’ve been having a 1:1 training session before my chemotherapy appointment, but it had been cancelled on our way there, so we popped to Costa for a coffee and a tea and a relaxation before going to the hospital. I knew that if I got to the hospital early, they wouldn’t make me sit and wait too long, so I told Hannah to take me there early so that she could come back home and get on with the rest of her day. 

      I arrived thirty minutes early and of course they called me through after a few minutes of waiting. I was a bit anxious about not using the cold cap, but Lammy eased my fears by telling me that I had done all I can. Fourteen cold cap sessions are a lot more than other people had done. I had tried it and shown that with the paclitaxel it had worked, but the new chemotherapy is not behaving the same and I shouldn’t feel bad about it. I just have two more sessions to go. Lammy then told me that he used to work in private chemotherapy care in Harley Street. He went to a talk about how to use the cold cap and was sat next to Trevor Sorbie (Lammy had no idea who he was) and Trevor was there as his brother’s wife had just been diagnosed and he wanted to know what he could do to help seeing as he is a successful hairdresser. He started a charity called “My New Hair” to help train hairdressers with wigs that will make the wig look more like real hair. Lammy also told me that through the Harley Street doctors, the patients had their chemotherapy treatments at home with a specially made cold cap that they kept in their freezer. So that’s what money buys you, and your own nurses at home with you.  

      Anyway, the things you get to experience whilst using the NHS are the lovely nurses and doctors on the chemo unit. The other patients certainly make for a fun packed day! The lovely Pauline that sat opposite me today was from South Africa. She said that her parents had moved over here years ago when she was younger, and she loves living in Whitham. She has been with her girlfriend for the past two years and has been surprised that she has stayed with her through her treatment. Pauline had her surgery first; she had a full mastectomy on her left breast, and a breast reduction on her right breast. She said that her cancer is HER2 positive. I told her that mine is triple negative so chemo first. She has advised me to get the whey protein that bodybuilders use, as she believes that is what has helped her to get through her surgery better. She only needed drains for a week instead of the usual two, so I told her I would investigate it. Any help to get through surgery quicker is a bonus. 

      Pauline is also on EC chemotherapy, but she has said that the steroids have made her feel very hungry and she has put on weight. Her tablets are the same as mine, just three days of steroids and anti-sickness pills, but she didn’t have immunotherapy, so there were no injections for her. So, as much as she was eating more, I struggled the other way where I had to take the anti-sickness to give me the ability to stomach food afterwards. It’s amazing how we can go through the same things, but all have different side effects. 

      There were two men in Bay 3 with us, and they both seemed to be there for their first rounds of chemotherapy. They seemed ok but kept themselves to themselves. One of them seemed to spend most of his time on the phone with his wife/girlfriend. Right from the start, I did things the other way and just sent pictures to the family rather than calling them, and it has been that way ever since. I talk to them all when I get home, but the chemo unit is not somewhere where I ever want them to experience, so I try to keep it separate from our family life. 

      During one of our conversations, Pauline mentioned that she was using loop earplugs. She said that she feels drained when she gets home from artificial lighting, and she was trying the loop earplugs as she finds that she gets really overstimulated from all the conversations and the noises on the unit. I make her right. I used to think that a lot of the tiredness when I got home was from the antihistamines, but I haven’t had them for the past few sessions, and I was still feeling weird coming home. I was blaming the chemotherapy, but it absolutely makes sense. It’s tiring not from too much rest, but from too much stimulation. 

      Without having the cold cap, my treatment finished earlier than usual, so Simon left work early. I then had to wait for my prescriptions, which they normally do whilst the cold cap was on. I must remember getting them earlier next time as that was boring sitting around waiting for the pharmacy to hurry up. 

      It was another night for me to wake up after 4am. So, when I woke up, I put my air pods in and listened to some podcasts. I thought I didn’t disturb Simon that much. It turns out that when I giggle listening to Chatabix (Joe Wilkinson and David Earl) it wakes Simon up. So now I will have to make sure that I listen to the boring ones! 

      Only having about 6 hours of sleep and then taking steroids during the day often leaves me fit and able to do things around the house but makes me tired so I must sit and rest for a while. I probably should nap but I can’t even do that properly as I am not tired enough for it. It’s all ups and downs. But the end is getting nearer, and I know I can get through this. I’ve managed so far, there is no way that I am going to let it get to me now. 

      On Friday, I managed to get some housework and cooking done. On Saturday I could feel my energy levels going down, but Simon wanted to get his vinyl into the new boxes he ordered, so I cracked on and did that until I couldn’t do any more. Today (Sunday), I made a call to Andrew and Sarah while my energy levels were up. Ate lunch on my own as the girls were stuck in traffic, and I’ve been fighting with my stomach and tiredness ever since. So, I read my book for a little while whilst my temperature slowly declined, and I thought doing my blog would be a good way to end the afternoon. Hopefully I’ll manage a child-sized portion of food this evening. Might have to be Emily cooking today as I’m not feeling it now.  

    • Sunday 16th November 

      How did I forget the pain? Somehow, I had wiped it from my memory. All it took was one back twinge and everything came flooding back. Day 9 will now need to be marked in my diary with a big red mark. 

      Friday was not the best of mornings. I had found out Thursday night that Hannah has now decided that deceit and untruthfulness are acceptable for her when she made out that Tom had gone home, when in fact he stayed over on the “night she wanted to spend with her family”. She gave no apology to any of us that live here, packed her bags for a weekend away with Tom’s family, and off she fucked. So, relationship with youngest child in tatters, I thought I would spend the day with Emily doing what she wanted to do. We had a nice lunch and Emily decided that she wanted to continue watching The Witcher series (with the Hemsworth Geralt) so that is what we did.

      Simon went out in the evening with Tim to see Howard DJing, and Emily and I watched another Witcher. I thought I had been feeling a bit better, but a bit weird, for most of the day, and whilst lying on the sofa I could feel a strange heaviness in my hips and pelvis. I decided to go to bed, and Emily was happy to go up as well. Whilst in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I had to put another lot of hair that was falling out of head in the bin. Of course, the hair missed the bin and fell on the floor, so I had to bend down to pick it up … and that’s when it happened. The pulsing in my pelvis and spine made me feel like I was going to fall over. It was radiating low down, and I couldn’t catch my breath enough to stand up. After a short while, I was able to move my legs enough to get back up into a standing position again. This eased the pain, but the memories of the last round of chemo came flooding back. I thought that back pain was from drinking too much/not drinking enough. 

      I settled myself into bed with some extra pillows to help me sit up comfortably and decided to search the internet. And there it was; back pain with filgrastim. The immunotherapy injections that I detest doing are the cause of the pain I am experiencing. I checked on the Cancer Research forum and the Macmillan Cancer Support forum, and there were posts saying that the pain is a sign of the immunotherapy working. The hips, breastbone and spine are the largest areas of bone marrow, which is where the white blood cells are produced. The immunotherapy makes the bone marrow produce more white blood cells and the pressure of this inside the bone makes them hurt. As per usual, with most forums, the people that were talking about the pain were the ones who had been hospitalised with it. Some of them were saying that even morphine hadn’t helped. Some had said that their doctors had advised paracetamol, whilst others said ibuprofen. The one thing that I couldn’t understand was I have taken these injections with the previous chemotherapy but hadn’t felt pain like this before. The only thing that is different is that I am not given antihistamines once a week. A couple of women had said their chemo units had told them to take a non-drowsy antihistamine. Of course, I would be having these pains on a Friday night, when the chemo unit is closed and won’t be open again until Monday. I refuse to call the emergency number. So, I lay in bed, trying to find the right position to lie in. I did it on the last round, I managed to cope with it enough to get through a few days of bone pain, so I was sure I could do it again.

      Simon came home and was happily chatting away about his night out, but I couldn’t hold the tears in any longer. The throbbing and the pain and the ache became so bad that the only relief I could get was from crying. Simon kept telling me to take paracetamol, but I wasn’t sure if that would do anything. Plus, I have stayed away from any kind of pain relief throughout everything, and I didn’t want to start now. I had remembered the heat pack that was in the box of gifts I had been given on the day of my diagnosis and how it was there to help with the pains that come with the treatment. Simon filled up one of my hot water bottles and held it on the base of my spine and it helped so much. It didn’t take away the weird constant throbbing and the terrible ache, but it did lessen the pain. Sleep didn’t come very quickly and when it did it wasn’t for long. 

      There were so many thoughts that were going through my head when I was struggling with the pain. The biggest one was “is it worth going through all of this with every round of chemotherapy?” That’s when I got scared. I’ve been given 24 weeks of chemotherapy, but this is triple negative cancer, and it is the most aggressive form of cancer. If it doesn’t respond to this treatment, what other harsher treatments will they then put me on? I could go through all this now, only for it to come back in a couple of years. Do I want my life to be full of pain and sickness? How much longer will I have left with my family and friends? 

      I struggled through most of Saturday. I was either overthinking about everything when the pain had subsided or just lying down with the hot water bottle when the pain came back. There was an awful lot of me feeling sorry for myself, but I wasn’t going to feel guilty about putting me first and just taking the time to heal.

      When I woke this morning, my night’s sleep had been so much better, and the throbbing is now just more of a manageable niggle. Simon took Emily and I out to lunch after she finished work, and I did a little bit of housework and cooked us all a nice roast dinner in the evening whilst Simon watched the England match, and Emily did some university work. The fears of me not surviving this are still there, but I don’t want to be remembered as giving up. I will keep taking the treatments and on the good days I will try and make happy memories with my family and friends. 

    • Monday 3rd November

      It’s been a busy weekend! 

      My appointment with the picc nurse was at 8:30am on Friday. All she did was clean and dry my arm and put on a new cover. She’s given me some of the old covers so that the district nurses doesn’t have to use the gel ones. They go mushy and stick to my picc line and then it’s tough to clean off. Seeing as the appointment was early in the morning, Emily said that she would treat me to breakfast at Scott’s. I ate so much spinach! That’s got to be a good thing, surely? 

      Friday evening, we had a family dinner booked for Hannah’s birthday. Unfortunately, Emily agreed to cover a shift, so it was just Simon, Hannah, Tom and myself. We went to the Harvester and had some really nice food, and I managed to eat it all. 

      On Saturday, Simon and Hannah went to a Southend away match, so I was left taking and picking up Emily from work. She was working 3pm to 7pm, so I had a few hours to myself. I decided to do a bit of cleaning. It started when I wanted to print a crochet pattern. The printer needed ink in it. The computer table was covered in dust, so I chucked everything onto the floor and cleaned and tidied. Two hours later, the crochet pattern was printed, and the computer and table were completely clean. All paperwork sorted. All that cleaning had made my picc line leak again. It must happen when I use the muscles in my right arm too much. It’s so hard not using your dominant arm. I can’t strap my arm to my side. This is such a pain as I feel like I’m strong enough to get things done but can’t risk the picc cover leaking. Stupid arm. I’ll be glad when the picc line is finally taken out. 

      Sunday morning my picc line was nice and dry. I did some washing up and a bit of cleaning and it had leaked again. How ridiculous. I can’t leave everything to the family to do, or some things will never get done. So, I will just keep changing my sleeves to keep everything clean and dry and carry on with a leaking picc cover. 

      Went to watch Hannah play football and got a bit cold, but apparently not as cold as Simon. I did have my hat on, so maybe that helped me a bit more. 

      Simon and I had said that we would go to Hyde Hall today for a lunch date. We had a nice slow walk around the gardens and had a nice lunch. I wasn’t out of breath at all, so these new rounds of chemotherapy may be harsher, but the recovery time means that I feel better. More human, dare I say it. I look forward to the last three rounds being the same, or even better.  

      I’ve cut down to two anti-sickness pills a day now as the lunch one I can cope without. I made dinner for Emily and I today and I didn’t take a pill with it. I felt a bit hot afterwards, but my stomach feels fine. I didn’t have a full meal, so maybe that will be something to try tomorrow. If I feel brave enough to do it. 

    • Thursday 30th October

      Another Thursday without chemotherapy. This is such a weird feeling. I know I only had 12 weeks of weekly treatment, but it’s still a strange concept to be having treatment and not having to go to the hospital every Thursday. 

      I feel so much better this week. My breathing is not so laboured and I’m not so breathless when doing things. I have even suggested to Simon that we go for a walk on Monday. I know! A day out with a slow walk. Who even am I?! 

      My week has been filled with seeing people, which has been lovely. I have felt more human and part of the world outside. 

      Monday, Gary made a lovely Mexican lunch for Karen, Hannah and I, and we watched Muriel’s Wedding. Tuesday, Faye and Jo popped in with coffee and croissants, and we had a good old work catch up. Wednesday, Jackie came in for tea and biscuits, and James came in with his lunch and natter in the afternoon. I was hoping the district nurse would arrive before Jackie did, but Emily did well to make conversation with Jackie whilst I had my picc line cleaned. Today, Penny came in for a long overdue catch-up, but I felt like I did most of the talking about my diagnosis and barely asked her about what’s happening with her and the family. I will rectify that by inviting her out for coffee in a couple of weeks. 

      Speaking of picc lines, I woke up this morning to find that it had leaked. I knew the district nurse had rushed things a bit as it didn’t feel like the area had fully dried when she stuck the cover on. It’s leaked out the bottom and stuck to the sleeve. The district nurse had said to me to call if it leaked again, so I did. Waited most of the day for a district nurse to arrive, but the call I got was from another nurse who told me to call the picc nurses if it’s leaking. So that’s where I am going tomorrow. 

    • Saturday 4th October  

      I went out to breakfast this morning with some of the lovely women I work with, and they had invited along our recently retired boss, Katharine. The first thing she said to me was – should you be out? I just replied with – of course I am Mum, I’m fine! But that got me thinking. Do people think I’m supposed to sit at home and hide? 

      I have some amazing friends who have always been there for me over the years, but since my diagnosis, I just haven’t seen them. Why haven’t I seen them? What is it that I’ve done that makes them feel that they must stay away? People message and say, let me know when you want to meet for a coffee. How am I supposed to know when they are free for a coffee? I sit at home, all day, every day, going nowhere. They are the ones who have busy lives with their jobs and their families. 

      It’s a sad but true thing that I have seen my physiotherapist more times since my diagnosis than I have some of my friends. I must say though, my physiotherapist has done an amazing job of helping fix my rotator cuff injury! 

      So why have my friends been avoiding me? Is it easier for them to stay away due to the guilt they have about being fit and well whilst I am going through treatment? Do they think I have to live in a germ-free bubble where the outside world is not allowed to get anywhere near me? Or is it that age old thing of everyone being so bloody polite that they are waiting for me to message them to ask them to come over? Because, if that’s the case, I would be messaging them every single day of the week. 

      I’m bored. I’m lonely. I don’t want to sit and read books every day or watch tv. I’m becoming disinterested in doing anything, because, what’s the point when no-one wants to see you. Why get dressed? Why do anything? 

      Yet going out this morning has made me realise that I’m still me. I sat with a group of women who talked about work, and they made me laugh, and they made me feel that I am still alive. I listened to the gossip, the dramas that had happened, the things that were happening in their lives. They didn’t ask me about how the treatment was going; they were too busy filling me in on everything I had missed since the last time we got together. 

      On Monday I am going to have lunch with another couple of friends, because they messaged and asked if I was free. Of course I’m free. If I don’t feel well enough to go, I will have to cancel. But I have been well, and that’s what has been affecting me the most. In fact, I have been doing so well on some weeks, I have been just logging on to everything at work and trying to keep myself occupied with that. Who does that? Someone who’s bored, that’s who does that. 

      And it’s not just my friends; it’s my family as well. I feel like they now see me as something that just hangs around the house. Simon took me out to lunch, once. We went out to dinner as a family, once. I paid for us all to go away as a family for the weekend, and it felt like something normal as we went to out and did things together. But do I have to keep paying for weekends away just to get that feeling again? I have two working children who haven’t taken me out. Some days I feel like the only thing I am needed for is to be a taxi service for Emily. Hannah would rather go for days out with Tom. There is no thought in that child’s head to do something with me. 

      So, if my own family don’t want to do things with me, is it any wonder that my friends don’t want to do anything with me either. Do they all think I am too fragile to do anything? Or are they all just getting on with their lives and thinking I am happy to be the person that life forgot? Is this the superpower that chemotherapy gives you; the ability to be completely alive in the world yet completely invisible to everyone at the exact same time.