Today marks exactly 11 years since I was told that the primary breast cancer I'd been diagnosed with in December 2002 at the young age of 32, followed by primary recurrence in 2007 had now spread to my chest wall and lining of my right lung and was now Stage 4 metastatic cancer which could not now be cured and would significantly reduce my life expectancy.
As people who know me will be aware that this marked the beginning of the end for my marriage and my now ex-husband left me just 8 weeks later whilst I was on chemotherapy and felt my prospects and outlook were extremely poor.
So for me to be writing this 11 years later, having just celebrated my 49th birthday with a great party, in case I don't make 50, feels totally miraculous and I feel totally blessed!
The last 18 months have been particularly difficult. In the summer of 2017 I faced 2 things within a fortnight of each other that I felt were inevitable but all the same you don't believe things until they actually happen.
I'd been on constant chemo regimes since April 2014 when I had a serious relapse in the lining of my lungs and a huge amount of fluid had developed causing my right lung to almost completely collapse. The chemo had helped to improve the situation although I'd have to change regime every few months once the previous one failed.By 2017 I was on an IV regime called Eribulin which had worked well for me for 14 months. However, I'd been experiencing several migraine-like headaches, so as on 2 previous such clusters of headaches, my oncologist sent me for an MRI on the brain but unfortunately this time it was bad news! There were now 11 small tumours in my brain. Although quite a few friends of mine with Stage 4 cancer had also previously had this diagnosis I always knew it could happen to me but it's also the thing most of us with Stage 4 dread the most as it just seems like the scariest thing and the fear of being unable to function overnight is huge. I knew that this new diagnosis I'd dreaded meant that I'd no longer be considered safe to drive in case I had seizures. I'd moved in 2014 to a house nearer more amenities and with very good public transport so I was in a better situation than I had been but of course it's still a huge change to have to get used to to no longer have a car. I'd had cars on the Motability lease scheme for 9 years so my leased car was picked up by them within a few days and that was that!
Meanwhile, leading up to this awful diagnosis, my beloved 14 year old black labrador Bass was struggling with arthritis and the indignities of old age and it became clear just a fortnight after my brain diagnosis that I had to make the heartbreaking decision to take Bass for his final sleep.
For all that know me will be fully aware that Bass was basically my "surrogate" son and we had an incredibly close bond and I just couldn't imagine life without him. I'd had Bass from 8 weeks old just 3 days after my last chemotherapy treatment the 1st time I had chemo in 2003.
He'd been through so much with me and was a wonderful and loyal companion, loved by all who got to know him.Since my Stage 4 diagnosis on 22 February 2008 I'd always thought Bass would outlive me so in a way it did comfort me to know that I'd been able to look after him for his entire life as it would have broken my heart to have become too ill to look after him or to leave him behind.
I have all incredibly happy memories of Bass and I have photos of him throughout my home and I think of him very often.
I do find it somewhat hard when people ask about me having another dog. It's difficult to know how to answer. A diagnosis of brain metastases usually has a very poor prognosis - I didn't expect to be still here 19months after the diagnosis and although I continue to outlive statistics I know only too well that every day is precious and the reason I really wanted to celebrate my 49th birthday last week with as many good friends as possible is because my 50th may not be achievable but I find it hard to actually be honest about that as usually people tell me I'm going to live forever or some such platitudes or that I shouldn't think like that. It's hard for everyone to know what to say but really all I feel I need sometimes is just to be heard as otherwise I end up bottling up my very real and legitimate worries. I don't feel it would be fair on a dog to take one on with my poor prognosis and also I do like the freedom to go away whenever I like to make the most of precious time. Also unfortunately there's the cost of keeping a dog to consider but I do miss having Bass very much.
The hardest thing, apart from having the illness myself, is and always has been losing so so many friends I've made through having Stage 4 cancer. I've lost many,many amazing ladies I've met over the past 11 years, including 4 this year already. Sometimes it feels like I'm going to be the last remaining girl in the playground and yet I know that my time will be up eventually too.
The support network has been absolutely amazing over the past few years - when I was first diagnosed in 2002 there was far less support - but it is heartbreaking when you lose friends who have shared so much with you and helped you so much. There are very few ladies remaining from when I first got my secondary diagnosis in 2008 but they very much live on in my heart.
This week I've been to a funeral of a very dear college friend I met 30 years ago who died suddenly a fortnight ago from undiagnosed pneumonia at 47. This was such a shock as it was totally unexpected and not cancer-related and made me realise that life is so precious and you need to make the most of it and spend time with as many as your loved ones and true friends as you can.
I've had amazing support over the past 11 years from both old and new friends and family but you do get to know who your friends really are. There are people that withdraw which is sad but at the same time help can come from unexpected quarters too. I experienced that very much last year wen I had an unanticipated fall in my kitchen and ended up fracturing my left femur!! This was extremely traumatic and I ended up being in hospital for 12 days and having a pretty torrid time!! I was inundated with visitors and helped so much and was really overwhelmed by the support both whilst I was in hospital and after I came home.I was in an incredible amount of pain for several months after my surgery and finally stopped using a stick at Christmas 2018. I found this experience almost worse than any other experience with my cancer as I was immobile for quite a while and then in pain for a lengthy period. I was so grateful for those who really were there for me - bringing me clean clothes in hospital, preparing meals for me or just letting me cry and have a rant when in hospital!
Since August 2018 I've been on a new treatment regime of palbociclib oral tablets and faslodex buttock injections and I'm pleased to say that by November 2018 the 11 brain metastases had reduced to just 4 which was miraculous news! This meant that I was now eligible for targeted stereotactic brain radiotherapy to zap my remaining brain lodgers! I had this in January this year and although being in an extremely tight face mask holding my head and face in place and unable to move for an hour for 2 sessions was pretty stressful I'm so grateful to have had it and am hoping that later scans will show good results.
I have to admit to have been suffering from quite a few panic attacks and anxiety attacks since January and pretty vivid anxious dreams which may well be side effects from the steroids I was on, the treatment or just what I'm going through at the moment! I do feel that recent losses of dear friends make me more aware of the precariousness of my situation. There are not many people I feel I can be honest with about this.
So, my 1st blog post in 4 years! I'm still hanging on in and celebrating 11 years with Stage 4.
