My story
My sons and I have lived with my breast cancer for past 18 years. Sometimes it has demanded our undivided attention, other times it has taken a back step. I have faced many ups and downs but can honesty say the ups have certainly outweighed the downs. My family and I have a greater passion for life; we spend quality time together making every minute count. We celebrate the highs and share the lows together.
I was 34 when first diagnosed; resulting in a radical mastectomy followed by my participation in a clinical trial at the Royal Melbourne Hospital. This entailed a 4+ month stay with a wonderful friend who opened her family home to me. Luckily my two small sons, aged 7 & 9, were able to stay at home, a long 4 hour road trip away; with my parents who lived 2 streets away from us.
When I returned our lives continued until 7 years later; another diagnosis of new primaries in the same armpit. Another 7 weeks away in Melbourne at my “other home” away from my sons, now aged 14 and 16. This time my sons were able to care for their mum each weekend; copious cups of tea, bowls of spaghetti bolognaise, cuddles and favorite pillows and doonas tucked around me.
Once again we picked up the pieces and continued with our lives. My sons finished school and moved to Melbourne for employment, returning home most weekends.
Mid 2008, my 50th birthday and 15th anniversary since diagnosis looming, discussions were held as to what form my celebration would take. A Waratah BCSG member and I had recently introduced a Pink Princess to our meetings. A new Princess was crowned, with pink, plush full length cape, sparkling plastic tiara and royal scepter; each time we gathered. The rational being that our meetings were a safe haven for all discussions, nothing out of bounds; we all in a place where we could take a breath and pamper ourselves if only for a few hours.
It was decided that my 50th was the perfect time for me to finally become a Princess. Growing up with four brothers it was a case of join in or be left behind. As a single mother it was up to me to kick the football, clean the fish, to not only drive the taxi to football, cricket and basketball but to quickly learn how to score and umpire when necessary. Consequently, there has been little opportunity for me to find my “inner princess”.
I wanted to celebrate not only the fact that I had reached the wonderful age of 50 but I also wanted to acknowledge that I was still alive and kicking 15 years after diagnosis. 15 stolen years since given a life expectancy of worst case 6 months – best case 2 years. I had not acknowledged my 5 or 10 years post diagnosis milestones. I had not felt comfortable celebrating my survival while I continued to attend the funerals of far too many wonderful women.
We decided to hold the celebration early November; halfway between my birthday in October and diagnosis in December. Invitations went out to all family members and friends. With many of my family living on the west coast I honestly didn’t expect many to be able to come due to time, work and cost restraints.
During this time I had finally found time for my annual checkup; this should have been completed mid year but after 15 years I had become slightly complacent. Liver, bone and breast scans were carried out at our local hospital, 75ks away. With the task completed my breast cancer was forgotten for another year. A couple of days after the final scan I received a message to contact my GP. A message I had received before; I hate those messages with a vengeance. Spots on my bone scan. Everyone rallied but the reality was that a diagnosis of metastatic disease was now a reality.
I phoned my oncologist and headed to Melbourne. A further CAT scan confirmed bone cancer but raised questions regarding a shade on my liver; another scan and biopsy followed. Inconclusive results so a tri phase cat scan ordered. During my trip down for the scan I fell and a broken right wrist was added to my list of woes. Finally, after 2 months and 8 separate treks to Melbourne, liver cancer was diagnosed. All visits involved a 1 1/2 hour road, 3 hour train trip; one instance arriving to be told that all appointments were cancelled and to ring for another appointment.
All this happened while my birthday celebration plans continued. With me attending as a “genuine” princess it was decided that the party would have a Princess or Pauper theme. We mistakenly believed that while the female guests would love being able to dress up; the men would be happy to attend as paupers wearing ‘normal clothes’. We were soon corrected by my sons and the party theme was altered to Princess, Prince or pauper.
The weekend of my party arrived. My 2 brothers and their families arrived from the west, picking up costumes on the way. My memories of the night are a blur. My broken wrist had hindered my ability to be of any assistance at all. Dressed in all my regal finery I arrived to be greeted by all manor of Princesses, Princes, and regal consorts. My sons and nephews had all come fully dressed as princes; all bar my younger son, an apprentice plumber, who aptly came as a pauper. Throughout the night I was cuddled by these strapping young men. I have never felt so blessed or loved.
My family made the final decision to come and celebrate after my diagnosis. They would not have missed the wonderful opportunity for our family to party together. My disease was never mentioned but it remained the elephant in the room.
At the moment we are treating my tumors with hormone blockers. A tablet taken nightly with little effects apart from hot flushes; which my friends continually tell me is normal for women my age (full menopause was the outcome of the clinical trial when I was 1st diagnosed). I also travel once a month to Sale, 75ks away, for my infusion of Zometa. It is carried out under the watch of a local cardiologist; Sale hospital has an oncology department but no oncologist. The side effects are a couple of days with a head ache and flu like symptoms.
With each diagnosis I have made new pacts with God.
My 1st was to see my children old enough to look after themselves. When diagnosed for the 2nd time my sons were well on the way. Both were good cooks, OK house cleaners; both knowing how to drive vacuum cleaners, micro waves, dish washers and washing machines.
When diagnosed for the 2nd time my pact was for my boys to be in relationships that would support them for the time ahead. They both had wonderful, supportive partners when my 3rd diagnosis occurred.
Now, with a 3rd diagnosis of metastatic disease my pact has changed. I have become greedy, wanting it all. Engagements, hen’s nights, weddings, grand children, birthdays, kindergarten “Nanas Days” and every other milestone. The grand children probably not quite yet but if things start to go pear shaped I will tell my sons to stop practicing and get on with it. I have now lived long enough to see my eldest son, Mat marry his gorgeous Tracy, and fulfilled a secret wish of dancing with my son at his wedding. I was doubly blessed as I also danced with my younger son Nik, my brothers, nephews and "other sons who have enriched our lives".
Life is good and keeps on getting better.
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths taken, but by those moments that steal our breath away".
Member blog
2 wonderful days
LIfe is good
After spending Wednesday at BCNA working on the new edition of Hope & Hurdles I came away feeling enthusiastic and looking forward to seeing the end result. Thank you to all the incredible women who attended the working party.
The revamping enhances the 1st hope and hurdles and the fantastice work done by the 1st working party. The end result will certainly continue to make a difference to women and their families who are living and dealing with mets.
Dreams do come true
I have just returned home from a week in Vanuatu attending my eldest sons wedding. what a week! spent with sons, daughter in law, brothers sisters nephews nieces and other loved ones.
Looking back I realise just how blessed I am. 17 years ago who would have thought I would live to see my Mat all grown up and married and my other son Nik standing so proudly beside him.
Life is sooo good.
2 years and smiling
Last thursday I had my 6 month check up with my oncologist. It is 2 years since I was diagnosed with mets in my liver and spine. There is now only 1 of each instead of the 2 I was first diagnosed with and these have both shrunk dramatically. My scans will now occur annually, this is the most exciting aspect as my doc is looking further down the track at long term exposure to radiation (anything longterm is a plus).
those so important milestones
after being diagnosed with bcmets in Oct 2008 i made the trek to melbourne to c my oncologist every 3 months. How exciting it was to be told Nov 2009 that we would make my next appointment in march 2010 (extending my time between visits to 4 months). My march visit all ok and we took the plunge & made Oct my next appointment (wow a massive 6 months). I had every faith in my body being able to continue responding to treatment for those next 6 months. My world was rocked when told that my appointment had to b postphoned for 3 weeks.
Sunny WA
1 week down 1 more to go. I dont want to come home at least not until the temp reaches a respectable 18+.
Am here in sunny Karatha, Have been whale watching on bros boat, saw a dozen or so hump backs; 2 swam a couple of feet in front of the boat.
Have just returned from 3 days at Coral Bay, heaven on earth. Definately have to return there in near future.
Can feel my Vit D levels increasing. Smiles.
Great to spend special time with my bro, sis in law, niece and nephews.
Life is definately good and getting better all the time.
User network activity
- marls40 has added post 2 wonderful days on 10 May 2012 at 07:01PM.
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