Tag: cancer

Alternative About Me, Opinion

Things that are important to me: #1

June L

So, I’m going to start a short weekly series where I write a very short blog about the things which mean the most to me in life. As tomorrow will be 11 years since my second of three cancer surgeries, today I am going to focus on health, but subsequent months will include my Christian faith, my family, my PhD, happiness, my extensive book collection, music (particularly my love for everything from Iron Maiden to Mozart), charity work, my community (particularly my wish to support those going through tough times), and things like that.

Today, though, we are finally at the last day in January. Man, it seems to have lasted for-e-ver. I’ve mentioned on social media in the past just how much I dislike January and February, so to have got through one of these months is at least something! In relation to this post, though, 1st February sees my 11th anniversary of the middle cancer op I had – a little victory – before the biggie in June 2012. But, I’ve blogged all about it before – you can find posts about it in the Alternative About Me category on my page. —->

It seems appropriate, therefore, that today I celebrate the fact that, 11 years on, I am in very good health. Yes, I have aged and am not quite as agile as I used to be. Yes, getting up out of the sofa sometimes needs a second attempt. Yes, the grey hairs are becoming more plentiful (but thanks to my amazing hairdresser are not often in evidence). And yes, the old visage contains a lot more lines. But instead of shying away from growing older, I have learned to embrace it. What does it matter if I’m 51 years old, but I’m actually still 21 at heart? I think after having the three cancer diagnoses I have had in life, it really does put another perspective on life; I’m actually really blessed to still be here, so I’m going to celebrate that fact!

Source: r/memes SHUBHi2024

I am very conscious to follow a healthy lifestyle, although I’m the kind of person who only needs to look at a cake and put about 5lbs of weight on. After a few years of basically being a slob (mainly thanks to COVID lockdowns and a sedentary job writing my thesis), I now practice Intermittent Fasting, which has been brilliant for me physically and mentally – I feel much sharper mentally, my energy levels are on the up, and my jeans are loose again (woohoo!). I started off with the 16:8 programme, but am now up to 20:4 (most days – the odd day I will slacken a little). I now feel that I can sit for extended periods and research/write my thesis; prior to this I was struggling to concentrate. My resting pulse has come down by 7 bpm within the last month and, overall, I’m feeling great. How long I will continue this for, I don’t know, but at the moment it is helping me a lot. A feeling-good June is a happy June.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I don’t drink alcohol, nor have I ever smoked, but I do take very regular exercise, walking the dogs (who may be tiny, but boy they walk fast!), climbing the numerous hills in the town where I currently live, and bonding with my rowing machine – which has been the best investment we have made. As I’ve written before, I am allergic to sport, although I like watching other people doing it. I’ve injured myself running: my knee dislocates all the time so things like tennis are out of the picture too, team games scare me, cycling on open roads freaked me out so I stopped doing that, mountain biking is…… no way Jose……, and I can’t swim (my parents did take me to swimming lessons when I was a child, but I never took to the thought of being in water with other people whose hygiene may not be the best. Plus the co-ordination needed to move arms and legs at the same time was, well, beyond me). Despite this reluctance to do anything other than walk or row, I still manage to average about 13K steps per day, even if sometimes I end up doing laps around the house to increase the number on my fitbit (or wave my arms a bit……ssssssshhhhh don’t tell!). However, I do find exercise tricky; although I am fit, I do get breathless very easily because I have fibrosis/scar tissue in the lung which was affected by HL and it doesn’t function as well as it should. It’s really frustrating. When I am at the University and have to go to the 12th floor of DHT, I make myself take the stairs. I’m a wheezing wreck at the top, but you get the best views from the stairs! I just need a few minutes to sort the breathing out, and then I’m fine. There have been times when I have had to stop a gym workout through breathlessness and light-headedness but again that clears after a few moments. My usual saying whilst recovering from strenuous exercise is “Just give me a minute”. It’s one of the legacies of my medical history that I just have to live with.

I’m determined that I am not going to get a fourth Big C diagnosis, and thus am trying everything I can to be able to “grow old gracefully”. I want to be a “cool granny” one day. Medical research is so important – not only I have benefitted from it, but many people I know have as well. Diseases previously considered to be fatal now may not be, thanks to these clever people who spend their days working in labs striving to find effective treatments for everything under the sun. In my days as a pharmaceutical research nurse I could see this for myself – so many medicines are produced for everything you can think of. Some work, others don’t. But without this knowledge, middle-aged me wouldn’t be here now, sipping at my tea, and contemplating getting a sweetie from one of the boxes I got for Christmas. I will go into medical research more when I talk of why charity work/fundraising is important to me, on another Tuesday.

So yes, keeping healthy is important to me. Every day I am thankful that I can walk about, go out, and feel well. I trust things stay this way for a looooooong time! Here’s to good health.

Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com
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.