Category: Alternative About Me

Little bits about me that are less well-known, including my experiences of seeing off three encounters with cancer and my wonderful ‘sixth sense’.

Alternative About Me

My Attempts to Keep Fit

June L

Anyone who knows me knows that exercise and I haven’t ever really got on. Ever since infant school it has meant running about, doing things that give you pain (I’m thinking the rope burn from sliding down the ropes too fast), fear (in my case of heights from the top of the ‘apparatus’), and discomfort (hockey and lacrosse in the pouring rain or sleet). I was in one school hockey team – quite an achievement for me – but never made the lacrosse one; probably because my aim was to run away from the ball that was hurling itself at me through space at great speed, instead of catching it in my stick net thing. I hated swimming, and I just wasn’t ever a runner. Ever.

However, since then I have made an effort to join gyms and keep fit. As a nursing student, I went to weekly step aerobic classes but gave up after a few months as I didn’t have any co-ordination. Stepping on and off the step was easy, but start throwing in arm movements…… completely lost me. Then, due to most of my 20s either fighting illness or expecting my children (the first baby we lost early on, sadly), my exercise was minimal.

Over the past few years, I came to like the two gyms I have been a member of. During my nursing days, they were a godsend after all the stress of a normal day. On days off, I’d be at the gym for 6.30am so that I could have it to myself before the ‘rugby boys’ came in and posed, looking at themselves in the mirror whilst pretending to lift weights. I loved exercise so much that, for several years, I took part in several charity fundraiser events: a couple of sponsored cycles for Marie Curie Cancer Care, and several years of Cancer Research’s ‘Race For Life’ – strictly the 5km run only for me. 10km was just a bit too much. Often some of my friends would join me, and once or twice my daughter, and we would have a fun time punishing ourselves whilst raising cash in order for other people to have the happy ending to their cancer diagnosis as I have had. I think, in total, I’ve raised about £5,000 for these charities – not a huge amount, but money which I hope has been used to help these people.

Then, about 3 years ago, whilst out running, I injured myself which put pay to my running days. I was quite sad about this as I loved going out with my daughter and the area where we live is an ideal outdoor gym – especially in the early mornings.

Other than walking/hiking – which I do a lot of around here, in a town surrounded by hills – and cycling, which I’m not a great fan of (because the roads are busy) – I needed another form of cardio exercise. After trying Clubbercise once (really not for me, even with the whole waving lightsticks thing), I took up rowing at my local gym. Finally, a low impact sport which I really enjoyed. And I’ve done it ever since. The local gym only has two ergo machines (rowing machines) and I was getting grumpy at having to tire myself out on the treadmill or bikes while waiting for countless other people to finish on one or other of the ergos before I could put in my daily 10km stint…….so we ended up buying our own. Now I have no excuse to shirk trying to keep fit. If I do, it sits there and makes me feel guilty.

I have been a bit lax recently with my rowing though. Tutoring every evening, as well as thesis-writing, and doing the house up for selling has taken every spare minute of my time. However, I signed up for DoddieAid and am trying to make up my walking miles with some rowing ones too. It’s not one of my beloved cancer charities this time, but the cause is equally as important; someone we knew locally passed away a couple of years ago with MND. It is a dreadful illness. So, although my effort for Team Edinburgh is pretty meagre, I’m doing my tiny bit to help. (Team Edinburgh isn’t doing great in the Inter-District league…..come on, folks!).

I went a bit OTT with my rowing today, especially after not having done it much over the past couple of months. It also didn’t help that I hit the wrong Spotify playlist on my phone and so I ended up trying to keep a steady 25spm whilst high energy tunes were bursting out of my earbuds. Not recommended. I’m going to be hurting tomorrow……..

Alternative About Me

Re-awakening my blog with a catch-up

June L

bloggingSince I last blogged on this platform, many moons ago, a lot has happened. First of all, in November 2011, I was diagnosed with cancer for the third time, not lymphoma on this occasion, but breast cancer brought on from the radiotherapy I had had for the first lot of lymphoma 18 years previously! (You can read of my past cancer encounters here , here and here). The upshot of this diagnosis was a cycle of biopsies, MRIs, CT scans, and 3 operations (2 minor and one very major operation), followed by 5 years of anti-cancer treatment. I recall sitting in my hospital room, recovering from my double mastectomy and reconstruction in June 2012, with tubes coming out of me all over the place, and thinking life is too short and precious for regrets – so why have them? I had always regretted shelving English for nursing when I left school, and I knew that returning to nursing after my treatment would not happen. So what better way to survive five years of treatment than to study for a new degree, and work towards a new career?

This is a long story, so I will keep it short. I enrolled with the Open University and undertook two undergraduate English literature modules (one Year 2 level, and the other at Final Year level) – I may have written about them before in this blog. I passed both of these with Distinctions – you have no idea just how proud and amazed I was to do this! My treatment gave me the condition known as Tamoxifen Fog which made concentrating, writing essays, and exam revision very, very hard. Sometimes I felt likestudying my head was filled with cotton wool, and could barely think, let alone read. Couple this up with never-ending nausea (which made me lose so much weight that I ended up a UK size 4 at one stage), I was a mess. Thank goodness the OU modules were online, as I would have been in no physical or mental state to get to a brick University! So to get such high module results was a HUGE source of pleasure. (I had made a conscious decision NOT to tell the OU of my situation, as I wanted to challenge myself to do these courses on my own steam – and indeed my Master’s – without any extensions on my essays, or to be treated any differently from my course-mates). Because I was feeling so lousy and ‘spent’ all of the time, my blogging just stopped.

With my history, I was keen to get on and study for a Master’s degree – hanging about was not an option. I asked the Open University for their advice, and they said that as I already had a 2.1 undergrad degree (albeit in nursing) and two Distinctions in my English modules (which would have got me a First Class Honours if I had completed studying at Undergrad level) then I would be permitted to enrol onto their Master of Arts in English degree. By this stage, I was halfway through my treatment and I figured that, with the OU’s Master’s following a part-time schedule, I would finish my degree roughly about the same time as I was due to finish my treatment. So, rather scared, I signed up for it. In March 2016, I found out that I had passed the first part of my Master’s with Distinction; again, a huge source of pride and elation. My treatment was going well, there was no sign of any recurring disease, and I’d nailed Part 1 of my MA and earned myself a sneaky little PG Dip (Hum) at the same time!

After a little break, I started to get organised for Part 2, my Dissertation. I ended up writing this on Charles Dickens, and how he used representations of puppets, waxworks, automata, monsters, and ‘robots’ to convey his attitudes towards mechanisation in society, following the Great Exhibition. I absolutely adored writing this Dissertation, as graduatingDickens is my very favourite nineteenth-century author. Again, my treatment was making things tough, as it had done since the beginning, but in the end I pulled through and submitted my work one month early. As it turned out, the last official day of my degree, in January 2017, was also my last day of treatment; that particular evening we had a double celebration! Eight weeks later, I found out that I finally had the permission to put the letters MA after my name…… I had passed my degree! A double victory!

That was not all. After I had submitted my Dissertation, I was at a loss. Suddenly I felt lonely, almost like a good friend had passed away. I don’t have a good social circle in the town where I live, and am not included in any social groups, so – apart from my family – my work was my everything…… and it was no more. Although it was Christmas time and all around me was excitement and anticipation, I felt as if a part of me was missing. I spoke to my hubby about it, and he urged me to apply for a PhD – if I wasn’t accepted then at least I would not regret having tried. To cut a long story short, three days after obtaining my Master’s degree results, I learned that academically I had met the entry requirements, and my Research Proposal was of high enough a standard for Edinburgh University to give me an unconditional place on their PhD in English Literature degree programme. This was literally a dream fulfilled: my dream university and my dream degree! (Yes, I certainly felt like I was dreaming!).

I am now just over one month into my PhD and, although progress is very s-l-o-w, my supervisor has helped me narrow down my research area enough so that I can start more focussed reading. I chose to change from nineteenth-century literature to twentieth-century to widen my knowledge base, as I am wanting to remain in academia when I eventually finish. I am studying for my doctorate part-time partly because ofbooks-book-pages-read-literature-159866 family commitments, partly because I am still recovering from Tamoxifen fog (which has vastly improved since January!), and partly because I am almost twice the age of my doctoral colleagues! I am involved in peer-reviewing and blogging for Uni magazines/sites, I’m a PhD reader for the Uni’s literary prize, and am about to set up a Twentieth Century Research Group with one of my colleagues. Life is really busy but is totally great, and is worth all of the horrid, painful, and depressing days that my treatment gave me.

Blogging for the Uni (whose blog can be found here) made me miss my own blog, so I have decided to raise it from the ashes, like a phoenix. I have decided to give it a literary base, so most of my blogs will be related to books I have read, literary places I have visited, or PhD- related things. There may be the odd random blog too, I daresay! I will endeavour to update it as much as I can, and they won’t be as long as this, you’ll be glad to know.

 

 

 

 

Alternative About Me

My Cancer Victory – six weeks on (published July 2012)

June L

My Cancer Victory – six weeks on (published July 2012).

It’s a big day for me today.

It’s six weeks to the day since I had my double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery for breast cancer. It’s a day I have been looking forward to for months. The day when I can ditch the velcro band that I have had to wear 24/7 since the minute I came out of theatre (except obviously in the shower!). The day when I am allowed to drive again and get a bit of independence back. The day when I need not go to bed at night to try and get to sleep sitting up. So, yeah, it’s a big day!

 

If you haven’t been following my story so far, then a short re-cap. I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer in December, brought about because of high dose radiotherapy I had in the sternal area for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma 19 years previously. Although it had always been a threat, it still came as a bit of a shock when I was diagnosed, as I thought that maybe being so long after the radiotherapy, I was going to be ok. Then it was the decision what surgery to have. The hospital were advising me to go for the mastectomy option, whereas I felt I wasn’t ready for it, and was pushing for the partial mastectomy option with chemo follow-up. My surgeon was very sympathetic and didn’t want to push me towards something I wasn’t emotionally happy with so two days after Christmas 2011 I went in to hospital as a day case for a wide local excision and sentinel node biopsy. Normally, after such an op, most women (and some men – yes men get breast cancer too!) then go on to have low-dose radiotherapy to the area, but because I had been zapped before, this option was not open to me, and I was started on a course of tamoxifen 20mg to be taken for the next five years. Yep, it’s a long course! However, on receipt of the pathology results, my surgeon informed me that whereas during my WLE op they had managed to get the 11mm tumour out, there was still some DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ – basically cancerous cells that have not yet spread) remaining, and that a second operation was required to remove them. So in February, I went in for the exact same procedure – and this time it was successful.
On my follow-up after the second procedure, my oncology surgeon provided me with some rather scary facts – basically the likelihood of a more aggressive cancer returning within the next 12 – 24 months in one or both sides was extremely high, and I should still consider having a mastectomy – either one sided and the other done six months later, or both at the same time. Either that or I could continue with the tamoxifen treatment and just live “on a wing and a prayer” that the cancer wouldn’t return. Basically, the options were lose my boobs and live a happy and long life with no threat of breast cancer returning, or staying as I was and in doing so, cutting my lifespan short drastically. I wanted to see my kids grow up and get married, I wanted to do so much more with life that I decided the double mastectomy was the sensible option – get it over and done with – and booked myself in for the surgery at the beginning of June.
My hospital room
Although initially I hadn’t wanted implant reconstruction, the medics advised me strongly to get them – mainly because of my age (they recommend young patients to get them as the emotional impact on life thereafter is more positive), and all the information was given to me well in advance of The Big Day, including the necessity to wear a velcro band across my chest 24/7 for six weeks (to keep implants in place), do no housework for the first six weeks post-op, no stretching, no strenous exercise, no driving and no sleeping flat in bed. The next thing I knew, the op was over and I was the owner of a new set of smaller boobs and the victor of another battle against cancer. The surgery took a few hours (I believe) but within a couple of hours of getting back to my “suite” (my name for my personal hospital room) I was having the obligatory tea and toast; and the very next morning I was up and about, dragging two surgical drains in my wake. Recovery was uneventful – the painkillers were great as they were not only effective on making the whole post-op thing pain-free, but they turned me into a space cadet, so visitors were often subjected to me rambling on about nothing in particular usually about nonsense! Having had my surgery on the Tuesday, I was scheduled to go home on the Friday, but my drains were still filling up too quickly, so my stay was prolonged by an extra couple of days – very frustrating, but necessary – and then I was home!
Went back for my review appointment a couple of weeks later – the surgeon had in his hand the pathology results from the operation. He told me that in choosing to have the double mastectomy when I did was exactly the right decision, as they found that in the opposite side from where my tumour had been, there were numerous atypical cells and a 4mm section of DCIS – in plain English, if I had just stayed on tamoxifen treatment without having had this operation, I would have been in a worse position come this Christmas than I was last year as the cancer would have returned (a different and more aggressive type of breast cancer that is not affected by tamoxifen). So there you go folks! It seemed a bit of a drastic option to take, but it has literally saved my life.
Six weeks on and I have enjoyed bedrest whilst watching Wimbledon tennis on the TV, people running hand and foot after me, my Mum’s baking arriving by the tin-ful, flowers and cards from friends, and a few visitors. The reconstructive surgery is so good that many people haven’t realised I have already had the operation! My cancer nurse has warned me that I will shrink some more, and that by Christmas time (another five months away) my body will have taken on its new look. So I guess I am still metamorphosising as I type up this blog. I am back on tamoxifen (to purge any rogue cells that may have got into my system from the surgery) and that makes me feel nauseous most of the time, but I see that as a small price to pay for beating cancer yet again. I have the odd “wobbly” day when I have a self-image crisis, but that is because my chest still feels tight and like I have internal sunburn; and also because I’m still quite swollen, I think that everyone is looking at me thinking I look like Dolly Parton! But things are on the up, and having reached this milestone it’s the start of a whole new life chapter.
Cancer isn’t necessarily a death sentence folks – take it from a Pro cancer fighter like me. Stay positive – getting stressed or wallowing in self pity won’t make it go away. At times it is tough going, but persevere. Having a fantastic family, fabulous local friends, and an amazing array of supportive gems through Facebook and Twitter (most of whom I have never met!) has helped enormously, especially with the emotional side of things. Advice and humorous stories from one lady on Twitter who went through similar surgery to me a few years ago was appreciated most of all – thank you Sandy. Since then I have been able to help a couple of people online who are facing similar surgery to that which I have gone through. Cancer is scary, cancer is frightening, but when you beat it to a pulp, there is not a feeling like it in the world. There’s a great life out there for living.When I was in hospital, I often took a little stroll along to the adjacent General Oncology ward to chat to some patients who hadn’t got visitors, and compare surgical drain bags (yes the fun we stooped to in hospital!). In that ward I met some real superheroes, all fighting their own personal battles against the big C – some were winning, some were trying their best to win, but things were tough. It was a very emotional experience. I went back to my ward knowing I was one of the lucky ones who would be walking out of that hospital when my discharge day came. I still think of those brave souls today and wonder how they are getting on.

Scores on the doors: June 3, Cancer 0. Let’s hope this time it got the hint and never comes back
!P.S. An update to my last blog…..I completed my Race For Life in May and raised £1,057 in the process. Thank you to all who sponsored me.

Alternative About Me

Five Weeks To Go (originally published April 2012)

June L

 

It’s been way too long since I wrote my last blog, so it’s time for a quick update on my life, the universe and everything. It’s been a pretty hectic and “full-on” few months!
At the time of my last blog I was awaiting my second operation to remove the DCIS cells that the surgeon hadn’t been able to get out initially – it’s pretty common for this to happen, so I wasn’t as worried this time around. In fact, the nurses had to tuck me into the bed with a “Bear Hugger” to stop me from getting up and “getting in their way” – they were busy and I felt at a loose end! Well, they do say nurses make terrible patients! Fortunately, following this second op, the surgeon was able to tell me that they had removed all the cancerous cells that were there at the time, and put me on a course of tablets (tamoxifen) for two months, stopping for a month before surgery. These were ok actually, I had expected tons of side-effects, but actually instead of gaining weight, I lost heaps mainly due to the fact that it made my food taste metallic and therefore made me feel nauseous. The only meal I could really enjoy was dinner when I totally “pigged out”. So currently I am a size 6, which I can’t complain about I suppose! I also felt absolutely shattered a lot of the time. Unfortunately for me, following my op I have to go back on these darn pills for five years – the reason being that if any rogue cancer cells get into my blood stream during surgery, the tamoxifen will kill them off. So at this current moment in time, I am on my drug break, and have five weeks to go until surgery (the date for this being Tuesday 5th June – just after the Jubilee!). If I’m being honest, I do have my “wobbly” moments, but in another way, I’m looking forward to living without the threat of imminent cancer for the first time in half my life! And a new bod for summer as well, even though for a good proportion of the season I will be under bandages! During the wobbly moments I keep telling myself that of the two evils left to me – a lifespan of 5 years or this operation, the latter is the one I would have one hundred times over as long as it meant I could see my kids grow up etc. Heck, there’s a lot of living left in me to do yet! Cancer is NOT going to beat me this time. No way Jose!
Next Sunday (6th May) I am running Cancer Research’s Race For Life with two of my lovely friends. It’s only a 5k one (the 10k happens just after my surgery, so there is no WAY I could do that, unless someone pushed me in a wheelchair!), but for me – who is a total non-runner, (I have the worst knees out that dislocate easily – so this will be fun!), it is a marathon. I wanted to do it as an almost three-times survivor with a positive message, that cancer doesn’t kill everyone, and the sign I am planning on wearing on my back will say something to that effect. I have benefited from new advances in cancer treatments and cures – and seeing that twice as many patients are cured from cancer than they were 40 years ago (Cancer Research statistic) – surviving this dreadful disease is becoming more commonplace. I’m also running it for
family members and friends who have/have had cancer, and also those people who I do not know who have/have had cancer; as well as those who lost their battles. So that’s a lot of people I am trying to raise money for! To date, I have raised £615 through the generosity of Facebook friends, Twitter followers and personal friends. If you are in the position to sponsor me, please visit www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/june-louiselaurenson or text SJLL71 £donationamount to 70070.
So that’s me. Oh yes, I have also given up my nursing registration – that’s a story for a separate blog – and am looking forward to somehow starting a brand new life chapter and career when things start getting back to normal in August – I’m not sure doing what career-wise yet – but waiting to see what opportunities life throws at me. Life is for living, and that is what I intend to do!
Alternative About Me

Me vs The Big C (originally published Jan 2012)

June L

Me v The Big C. Round Three.

It’s been a while since I updated my blog, purely because I have been busy fighting the dastardly villain known as Big C – and so far, I believe, I have the upper hand.

Many of you will know, or have read on my blog, that I have had Hodgkins Lymphoma twice – several years ago, and that I am cured from that disease. However, not content to be vanquished by attacking my lymphatic system, Big C has come back – this time in my left breast.
Because I had very very high dose mantle radiotherapy for my first bout of Hodgkins, in 1992, (which was situated in my mediastinum – so my upper chest area received the full whack of radiation), I have been going for annual mammograms. My haematologist had warned me that I was at very high risk of contracting breast cancer in the future, way back when my treatment was due to start, but me – being faced with cancer at the age of 21 – just wanted it gone, thinking I would deal with the complications later on. Well, the last 18 years of mammograms came and went, and save one visit that required a repeat xray done, all were normal. I have to admit as to getting a bit lax about these appointments when year after year the same letter came back saying there were no abnormalities and that they would call me back a year later for my next one. I even got to questioning as to whether or not these visits should be continued. After all – that’s 18 years ago, I thought. If I was going to have contracted breast cancer, then it would have appeared by now…….
Then came last November. Oh joy, I thought, another mammogram appointment. Well, I know what the outcome is going to be. I have no lumps or bumps anywhere, no swollen lymph glands under my arm and I’ve been in good health – ach, it’s a waste of an afternoon, but I’ll go anyway. I went, got all the xrays done, thought no more of it. Until the following week. When a letter arrived on the front door mat. I could see from the franking on the envelope that it was from the clinic, and I was surprised they had got back to me so quickly considering everything was ok, but all became apparent that things were not quite as normal as they should be. I had to go back for a mammogram, an ultrasound and possibly a biopsy the following Friday. That was all the letter said. They would tell me why I had been recalled at that visit. Well, I got a little stressed about this for a few minutes – but then remembered I had had a recall several years earlier and everything was ok, and despite them mentioning the other tests, I probably wouldn’t need them – it would be a standard letter. I was also informed to leave most of the day free for this appointment.
Roll on a week and I’m back at the clinic. Mammogram duly repeated, and an ultrasound done, I got called into a doctor’s consulting room and was shown my films. Both xray and ultrasound had confirmed that there was a tumour in the left breast, but until they did biopsies, they couldn’t tell if it was malignant or not. Would I please take a seat in the waiting room whilst the doctor finished her clinic and then they would do the biopsy afterwards?
An hour went by. People came and went. I won’t forget that waiting room. It was small, chairs all round the wall, tea and coffee-making facilities and a radio tuned to the local station emitting some well needed silence breaking tunes. And an overpowering sense of fear. Lots and lots of very very scared women, I have to say, me included. “Ach”, I thought. “You know what? If it is malignant, well then I’ll just do what I did with my Hodgkins and beat it to a pulp. Cancer is not a death sentence”. But I was still scared. Even though I had no symptoms whatsoever.
Eventually I was the only one left in the waiting room. Silence, apart from the radio which was playing this song (below). Freakily, it has stuck in my head since and is my mantra when I find things get a bit too much… In fact it is my cancer theme song.
After a wait of about an hour, I got my biopsies done (eight samples were taken under local anaesthetic), and a further wait of four days ensued. Went back to the clinic on the fourth day and was told that indeed, the tumour was malignant. The world didn’t come crashing down round my ears – I just put on the armour I remember putting on when battling my Hodgkins and knew that I would be the victor in this battle against Big C. Round Three. Ding ding.
An MRI was done, which indicated that it was a small tumour – about 11mm in size, and that it had not spread to my lymph nodes. Further tests showed that it was also non-aggressive and slow growing, so if there was any good news from this whole thing – that was it. Dates for surgery to remove the tumour were made, and treatment was discussed. Because I have had radiotherapy to that area in the past, standard modes of preventative therapy are not open to me, but I agreed with the surgeon that tumour removal and a course of tamoxifen for five years would suit me fine at this stage. He warned me that I am more likely to have a recurrence – but I said, if that happened, I would deal with it at the time.
I had surgery as a day case on 28th December 2011, which kind of spoiled my Christmas but at least I would be starting New Year cancer free. Before I went to theatre I had to get a wire inserted into my left breast so that the surgeon could locate the tumour. That was a relatively painless procedure – a bit stingy but that’s all. Surgery was performed, and four hours and several hundred cups of tea later, I was home.
I went to my follow-up visit at the clinic yesterday afternoon where I was told the results of the surgery. I had gone to the clinic expecting to start tamoxifen treatment, but as they say…”the best laid plans of mice and men”. The surgeon told me that the tumour itself had been removed, but pathology shows that there are still some DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ) cells left  in me, that need removed before they develop into another tumour – so a further operation, smaller this time, would be required so that they could remove the affected tissue. That was a bit of a bummer (pardon my French). So the date for that is 1st February. Then, armed with research and statistics, the surgeon then explained that I am at extremely high risk of cancer recurring within the next few months. I won’t bore you with all the numbers, but put it this way, the choices I have are to keep my boobs and have a much shorter lifespan, or to have a bilateral mastectomy and live into old age. That hit like a brick! To be honest, I guessed that a mastectomy would be in the offing, so I was prepared for it, but not quite so soon as what the surgeon was proposing. However, with two children, I just know which decision I am going to choose. I want to see them grow up, get married, have children. I want to live into old age being a crazy Granny. So the bilateral mastectomy and reconstructive surgery it will be – probably mid-June time. It’s going to be emotional, but conquering Big C isn’t easy. He doesn’t go away without a fight. But I know in doing this, I am going to win.

“You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold, you gotta be wiser. You gotta be hard, you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. All I know, all I know, love will save the day” (Des’Ree “You Gotta Be”)

Stay tuned.