Thank you!

In spite of everything that I’ve been through during the last few months, I really do feel so incredibly lucky.

I have been truly overwhelmed by the amount of support I’ve received. Both from friends and family, as well as people that I barely know – or have never met!  It’s been amazing.

Leading the charge though has always been Mr P. and this weekend he surpassed himself, rallying a full-on ‘Ground Force’ style team to come and blitz my overgrown garden.

Armed with strimmers, pick-axes and saws they came; digging out concrete, chopping down trees and generally weeding for England ... while I just looked on in awe, proffering tea and biscuits. It was a truly fantastic effort.

So please can I say an ENORMOUS thank you to everyone who so generously gave up their time to help: to Barry, Neil, Roger, Diana, Rachel and Craig ... but mostly to my wonderful Martin (Mr P.) who I have NEVER seen work so hard!

Where's it gone?!

My tumour is now so small that they can't even find it with a scanner!

We visited The Royal Marsden's 'Rapid Diagnostic Unit' today. It's very posh, like the rest of the hospital, and not all like any other NHS facility I've visited.

They looked at my chest and armpit with an ultrasound and, despite finding the 'marker' and what looked like scar tissue, there was no clear tumour to be seen. Hurrah!

Obviously this is brilliant news, especially as the final chemo won't even have taken effect yet. So we'll speak to the surgeon next week and get the plan of action, but it all seems to be boding very well.

In fact, I was so overwhelmed, I went back to the changing room and burst into tears. But good ones for a change. :-)

So that’s that. Next!

Today was my sixth and final chemotherapy session. Although, instead of being a high point it did feel like a bit of an anti-climax.

Don’t get me wrong, the chemo ward nurses and particularly the receptionist Stephen are all very nice. Apart from one bad experience on my second visit, when the nurse botched the cannula, it’s all been pretty straightforward.

Interestingly, it was the nurse from our second visit that administered my treatment today. Mr P. wasn’t happy about that but, in contrast to our last encounter, she was sweetness and light and even laughed at his jokes - so I think she was forgiven.

And they all wished me luck as I left (and gave them a box of chocolates in appreciation of their efforts) but I didn’t really feel any sense of completion or closure. I guess because I know there’s still more, albeit different and less gruelling, treatments to come.

It was a shame too, that I didn’t get to see my regular (the senior) Oncologist yesterday. Instead we saw one of the Registrars who, if I’m honest, we didn’t really like. Apart from being quite arrogant, he obviously didn’t know me or my case, talked over me a lot when I was trying to ask questions, and then didn’t want to measure my tumour because I’m being scanned at the ‘Marsden tomorrow.

Nevertheless, I did insist: ‘I’d like a measurement anyway, please!’ And then discovered that the real reason was probably because he had to go and get a nurse to watch him do it. Not sure why. Then he couldn’t find the tumour anyway!

However, this is probably a good thing. If, even in his less experienced hands, it’s not obvious where the tumour boundaries are then it must have shrunk a bit more. I’m hoping to under 1cm which, with one treatment still to take effect, does bode well for ‘breast conservation’ – i.e. a lumpectomy rather than mastectomy. It had been considered borderline before.

So it is good news, of sorts. I’ll be off to the ‘Marsden tomorrow for an ultra-sound scan, so hopefully things will be a bit more conclusive.

Which means that my treatment at Charing Cross is now at an end. As we waved farewell, I did take a moment to compose myself and then skipped out merrily to what I sincerely hope will be my last ever 'Chemo Conga' ... :-)

The home straight

So we’re nearly there. Tomorrow I visit my Oncologist for the last time and start the drugs for what, we sincerely hope, will be my final chemotherapy session.

You’d think that I’d be feeling chipper about this. And of course, to some degree, I am. However it’s been a tough couple of months and the thought of returning to treatment after an extended break is proving much harder than I thought.

Even though we’re so near the end, this has definitely been one of the worst cycles. Not physically, although the nausea did last into the third week, but mentally and emotionally.

I feel a bit like a London marathon runner who’s floundered at 23 miles. You know, the bit under Tower Bridge where they’re all limping with a teary but determined look in their eye.

I really just want it all to be over. To have my hair and eyelashes, to have a normal routine and to just have my self-confidence back.

In truth though, I know that some things will never be as they were and that the long-term effects of this treatment do mean that some doors - like having children - could well be firmly closed to me.

That’s not definite, I will need to ask for various tests, but I suspect from the way my body is now behaving that my options could be very limited. So it’s been an introspective few days.

Fortunately, however, I do have lovely, lovely friends who have been on a mission to cheer me up. In the last two days alone, I have been out to the pub, to a baby shower (brilliant fun) and to TWO West End shows!

And tonight, it’s England’s opening match against France in Euro 2012. Mr P and I are very excited and will be watching the game, like Howard and Hilda, in our new (and matching) England shirts.

I hope Roy Hodgson and the boys don’t let us down.

Me and Mr P. in front of the telly ... ;-)

"Congratulations and celebrations!"

What a brilliant few days.  Although, I think I might remember them better than some of my friends ... !

Despite the on-off weather, I'm pleased to say that us Brits put on a 'bloody good show'. It was weekend of music, dancing, celebration and laughter ... and apparently the Queen had a bit of a bash too. ;-)

Mr P. and I were away from London celebrating the marriage of our good friends Mr and Mrs Robinson. The weather stayed dry for us, if a bit grey, as we supped Pimms, quaffed champagne and ate what I can honestly say was one of the nicest cheesecakes I have ever tasted!

It also provided a lovely opportunity to catch up with people that I had not seen since the Bride's hen party, way back in March. Many of you will recall that this was the weekend that I started to lose my hair, so it was nice to be able to tell them how well I'm doing - and that the end is now nearly in sight!

Indeed it was celebrations all round as we drank, danced (to superb music provided by Mr P. and Russy G.) and generally made merry to the wee small hours.

The happy couple ... who, yes, really did trust me to do a Bible reading! I was very honoured.

But now we're all back in London. The Queen is apparently still celebrating but for most of us the party is over and we're back into the old routine.

Which for me, of course, is getting ready for one more dose of chemotherapy next week. I'm not looking forward to it - obviously - but it will be good to finally get it out of the way.

And then we can have another party!

In jubilant mood

What a glorious week it’s been. Gorgeous sunshine, dining with lovely friends and colleagues and now a four-day weekend to celebrate the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee (Cheers, Ma’am!)

Except, Mr P and I won’t really see much of the official celebrations as we have a far bigger more important event to attend: the wedding of our good friends Alan and Gemma!

It’s all very exciting ... and with the way I’ve been on these recent treatments, if I manage to make it through the church service – and especially my bible reading – without turning into an emotional blubbing wreck, it will be a miracle!

Normally, I would have expected to be relatively symptom-free this week but that hasn’t been the case. I’ve really felt quite nauseous at times.

Nevertheless, I do love Queenie and still wanted to do something for the Jubilee. Fortunately some more good friends got in touch and invited me to their street party in Wimbledon on Saturday. It was amazing! And incredibly well organised, if also peculiarly British with a load of middle-aged strangers doing tug-o’-war in the street ... (Men vs. women. Weird!)



Sadly now though, the weather has turned and it looks like the official Jubilee celebrations (and maybe the wedding) could be a very rainy affair.

But it won’t dampen our spirits – oh, no! – or our consumption of them ...
For God’s sake, we’re BRITISH!

Busy bee

Right-o, so I now have two ‘good’ weeks ahead of me and they’re already looking very full!

Lunches, dinners and a Jubilee wedding ... and that’s before I factor in all the mundane house and garden stuff that I need to get sorted. Oh, and I still need to sound-edit a radio play. I think I might have over-committed myself!

I am feeling better though, if – unsurprisingly – a bit tired. My joints are still a little weak and I’m finding that I’m quite clumsy too. (Managed to drop and smash my iPhone)

But for the most part, I’m doing OK. My hair appears to be growing back and the wispy white down on my head has given it the look and feel of a tennis ball.

The other day, I also picked up a sample of a caffeine-based product that’s supposed to stimulate the hair follicles. So I’ve slapped it on my scalp and am hoping for the best. The sooner I can grow some proper hair, the sooner I can stop wearing the wig because synthetic hair is proving a bit too stifling in this hot weather!

But we’re now about half-way through the whole treatment and recovery process, and the second half will (I hope) be easier.

Six weeks from today I will be at the Marsden having my pre-op dye injection and preparing to see the back of my ‘guest’. It still feels a long way off but at least I have lots to distract me.