DCIS – June's Jottings

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 5^th 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 (6^th 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!

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.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pO40TcKa_5U&ob=av2n

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.