Tosoast for Breakfast

Joke!

2007-04-29T22:01:00.002+01:00

Eleanor has just discovered jokes. This is one of her latest:

How does a parent go 'AUK'?

With a spoon!

We're expecting her first booking for stand up soon.

Race for Life

2007-04-29T21:52:00.000+01:00

This year I will be 'running' the Race for Life in June. For 'running' read 'walking steadily' 'short spurts of animated activity' and 'running past the finish line'. Race for Life raises money for Cancer Research UK. I'm all for anything that can be done to attack cancer. So anyone who wants to sponsor me, visit my fundraising page:
If you want an evening out and to cheer me on/have a laugh, come along. Or if you're feeling energetic, join me!

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum

2006-11-11T23:41:00.000Z

Soon after diagnosis I discovered the Breast Cancer Care website and more specifically the chat forums . The support I have got from there has been brilliant, and especially from an unofficial chat site that has arisen from it. I have met with one other user whilst have radio and other people have had met up at picnics with champagne (Tho' I've not managed to make any of the meets).

It's good to have the chance to 'talk' to other women who have been here, done this, and got through the other side. To find out more, and to have a laugh. And there are some good games on the unofficial site, too.

I've just discovered these comic strips via the chat on the BCC website. I've ordered the book...

Meet NED

2006-11-11T23:25:00.001Z

In the middle of October we went back for the first of my check-ups. And he doesn't want to see me for another 6 months...

NED is No Evidence of Disease... also known as NAD (No Abnormalities Discovered)or various other abbreviations..

Swimming!

2006-09-26T21:50:00.000+01:00

At last I can go swimming! Eleanor goes swimming every Saturday (though recently lots has been happening on Saturdays, and her normal pool is closed for refurbishment). She had quite a long break when neither Paul nor I could go in the pool, then first Paul and now I can both go in with her...

My skin is now totally back to normal, having taken a week (rather than the '2 or 3 days' to heal. I just need to build up that energy to be able to do a few lengths. Eleanor seems to find my swimming under water very funny...

More Treatment...

2006-09-26T21:47:00.000+01:00

I spent an hour today lying on a couch with tinkly music playing, being gently repositioned and the couch moved up and down... no, not more Radio... today I finally had the facial and head massage that Paul bought me for my birthday. There are definite advantages to being off sick (at least part of the time!)

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Almost at the end....

2006-07-28T23:32:00.000+01:00

Officially, all my treatment is over! I finished Radio last Wednesday with 2 'booster' doses (different room, machine comes right down on top of you, blast to the scar area. The actual Radiotherapy wasn't bad at all. There was one day, when Paul and Eleanor had accompanied me in and I'd shown the room to them, when the machine broke down on me. And no, neither P nor E did anything to it. I was lying there, all the staff had exited the room, and the first bzzzzzz came... then nothing. After an ominous pause, the staff came in and looked puzzled. Another long pause, then they told me I could relax my arm down. Then after a while they covered me up, saying the technicians might come in. Finally they sent me back outside, and I waited half an hour, then continued my session. It seemed to go OK, but was a bit worrying!

The same day that my Radio finished, I also finally had my line out. There weren't any beds available, so they put me in a private room (the food was no better tho'). It was taken out under local anaesthetic, and Paul was able to be there... so I didn't need a sedative this time. It is great not having the line sticking out of me any more. And no more waiting in for the District Nurses to come round.

I was warned that after the treatment finished the Radio would continue to work for 2 to 3 weeks (I'd continue cooking, as it were). And at the beginning of this week, my skin, which had been quite red, began to break down. This is a process known as moist desquamation. If that sounds revolting, that's because it is.

I went back to the hospital just under a week after thinking I wouldn't have to go near the place for a couple of months. There they had a look at me and gave me some Gentian Violet to daub on, and told me to expose the area to air as much as possible.
Now there's only so much you can go round topless, especially when still working. Plus the only way to comfortably get air to the burn is to lie on my back. So I have been doing a fair bit of that.

Gentian Violet is a dye... so now I have turned purple, Paul has purple fingers (the gloves they gave didn't fit very well) and various sheets and clothes and the like have purple blotches too.

Things did not seem to be improving greatly, so I went back to the hospital, where they have given me some Flamazine cream. And told me to carry on getting as much air as possible. Fortunately I'm not in work for the next week or so, as I'm not sure how this would fit in with the Clothing Policy....

Escapologist!

2006-07-06T22:30:00.000+01:00

A while ago Eleanor graduated from cot to bed. Nervous at the thought of her on the stairs (steep and twisting) in the middle of the night, we decided to try and fit our stairgate at the top of the stairs. It wouldn't fix to the newel post. Nor would it fit in her doorway. So the first night, we fixed her door shut with a luggage strap, and determined to buy a cabin hook for the door.
So we put her to bed, and went outside into the garden with the monitor. Silence.
A little while later I went inside, to find Eleanor coming out of the bathroom downstairs, looking forlorn and saying 'I was looking for you'. I took her upstairs and asked her how she'd got out... and she'd managed to squeeze through a tiny gap. She now wakes up in the morning and stands at her door rattling it and saying 'Mummy Daddy is it wake time yet?'

Just Graduated

2006-06-28T19:29:00.000+01:00

Not from my MSc alas! I've not restarted that yet, but from ChemoAngels.

This is a scheme that matches you up with people - your 'angels' who send you encouraging letters and small presents each week to cheer you up whilst having treatment. My 'angels', Jo and Yvonne have been lovely, and I've had various candles, bath salts, wind chimes and such popping through the door. It's lovely to have a bit of cheer on a Radio day. There have even been a few things for Eleanor too!

So if anyone likes writing letters, and want to do something practical to help others going through similar, do consider it!

Radio Ga-Ga? Radio Head?

2006-06-28T19:28:00.000+01:00

Chemo brain is a recognised phenomenon amongst chemotherapy patients, although it is never given as a formal side effect. However, it is a very useful excuse. I'm not sure how much longer I can carry on using it though, so I'm moving on to being Radio ga- ga.

I'm now part way through 17 Radio sessions: One a day for 3 and a bit weeks, with weekends off. And one day off for the machine to be serviced. I finish on the 19th July.

Apparently Radio appointments generally keep to time. So of course my first 3 appointments were late. At least we get free car parking right by the entrance. You have to go up to the kiosk, where the car park attendant gives you a number, then drive down to the barrier, and tell the same attendant the number he has just given you over the intercom. So each day starts with a guess the number game... the closest I've been is two out.

When I get called into the room, I lie on the couch, close my eyes, ignore the huge machines towering over me, and wonder when they are going to get some decent background music. Maybe I should suggest Music for Airports... And why don't they make the ceilings in Radio rooms more interesting? That's where the patients spend most of their treatment time looking.

I then have 10 minutes just lying down, while the Radiographers poke prod, measure, remeasure, draw on me, and exit the room promptly. There's a buzz, they come back in, move the machine to the other side and repeat the process.

So far, I have had none of the long list of possible side effects apart from beginning to feel tired again. I have bought a huge tub of E45 to counter any possible 'reddening, itching or burning of the skin', but there have been no problems so far.

I am supposed to avoid the sun in the effected area tho'. So I shan't visit Brighton beach just yet...

The Tattooed Lady

2006-06-28T19:23:00.000+01:00

About a week ago I went for a 'simulation' session for my Radiotherapy. The wait for this session was nothing compared to the Breast Clinic or Chemotherapy, and apparently (!) the Radio sessions themselves are usually on time.

I was given yet another fashionable top to wear: this one with press studs down the front and across the shoulders... except that one of the press studs on the shoulders didn't work, so it kept on flapping open at inopportune moments.

So, I lay on the couch, a foam pyramid under my knees. My left arm was laid on arm supports above my head, and my right arm by my side. And there I lay for the next 40 minutes or so, while they poked, prodded, moved me slightly, raised and lowered and moved the couch, and measured me in great detail.

The measurements were done mainly using a metal ruler which clamped onto the machinery. Either side of the ruler were two magnetic prongs ('don't worry, they won't go into you, they'll fall off if they press too hard'). Lasers shone lights across me, and seemingly random marks were drawn on me.

Finally, I was tattooed! Two small black dots either side of my breast to show the radiographers how to position me for my treatment. No, they don't do requests; I couldn't have 'Lucy loves Paul' tattooed across my chest. And apparently the Radiotherapy doesn't give me superpowers either. Shame.

No more Chemo!!

2006-06-28T19:15:00.000+01:00

My last chemo session occurred 3 weeks ago. This time I had fewer side effects (no stomach cramps!!!) and the feeling on the Tuesday 2 weeks later was great, not having to go to be poisoned again. However, it feeling did not last too long, as I'm still having the District Nurses coming and flushing out my line, and that day they didn't turn up. Grrrr. Much to-ing and fro-ing and several phone calls later, they finally came and flushed me on the Wednesday. However, I am still waiting for the appointment for the line to come out.

Oncologist

2006-06-08T22:33:00.001+01:00

Just before the last cycle, I saw the oncologist rather than one of his minion registrars (apologies to all those very capable registrars out there). My oncologist is very forthright, and his 'bedside' manner needs taking with several pinches of salt. When I told him about me fainting when the District Nurses were first flushing my line out he said 'lack of moral fibre'!
So the update on my condition:

I cannot be counted as 'cured' from the cancer, 'until I die of something else'. However, with my particular type, it's most likely to come back in the first five years. If it hasn't come back at all by then, the likelihood of its returning is low.

I have apparently coped very well on the trial: lots of other people on it have found it, well, a trial. I have had no infections (not even in my line, which is also unusual). The trial has been trialled before in America, although then it was dose - light rather than dose-dense (ie they gave us more) accelerated chemotherapy. However it emerged that the people who did best on the previous trial were those with the same particular cancer as myself.

So, cautious optimism. Just the Radio to go, then check ups every few months, and hope and pray it doesn't come back. And looking forward to a big party in July 2011!

Do you do massage?

2006-06-08T22:13:00.000+01:00

For my birthday Paul bought me a voucher for a massage or facial at House of Fraser... oh lovely, I thought, a nice relaxing time whilst I'm on Chemo. Oh lovely, He thought, I've managed to get her a present she hadn't pre-guessed.

However, when I actually went for it it was far from relaxing. They were very welcoming, and gave me a form to fill in with my details, including medical history. Then they told me that they couldn't do the massage until 6 months after the treatment had finished, as it stimulated the lymphatic system.

Now this doesn't make sense. The one thing that is permanent about all this is the potential problem with lymph due to my lymph node removal. And all I was wanting was a facial and hand and head massage. (The only chance I'll get to feel what a head massage is like with no hair!)

They said they would only do it with a letter from the doctor. They did say that I could convert the voucher into products: but then I have newly acquired £200 of products that I will rarely use. Seeing how upset I was, they let me sit in the room with a glass of water, and came back with a bag full of freebies 'so I could have a bit of a pamper at home'.

When I next saw the Oncolgist, I started to tell him about the massage, and he interrupted me and said 'And they wouldn't do it. It's a load of rubbish. Of course you can have a massage' Apparently, what gets bandied about a lot is that the massage will move tiny cancer cells around your body. Which it won't. And there's no problem with the lymph either. So I am now armed with a letter from the doc giving the go ahead.

All I want is a nice relaxing time! Now to book it...

More hair!

2006-05-11T21:52:00.000+01:00

My hair is now starting to grow back! I have for almost a week had a fine covering of 'peach fuzz' and I no longer look completely bald. It'll be a good while before it is presentable, but it's getting there.
Meanwhile, I have spent some of the birthday money on buying a 'wavy bandana'. This is basically a denim bandana with wavy hair attatched to the back. It is a lot more comfortable than the wig, and looks quite good with my 'fringe wig'. Photos will appear on the website when we can find our camera...

Looking Good, Feeling Meh

2006-05-11T21:40:00.000+01:00

On Paul's birthday last month, I celebrated by... having chemo. Then, in the afternoon, I went on a Look Good, Feel Better workshop. This was a 'makeover workshop' designed to 'combat the visible side effects of cancer treatment'. Since at the time I was losing my eyelashes and my eyebrows were thinning, and I'm always up for a freebie, I thought I'd give it a go. This from someone who last wore makeup last time I was a bridesmaid in 2004.
There were about 10 of us, and we were all given a bag of freebies. We had to sort them out into the cleansing stuff (cleanse, tone, moisturise, exfoliate, sand blast..) and all the make up... lots of different boxes and pencils and bottles. Sorting it all out and working out what was what wasn't simple for a novice like me. We had a sheet telling us what to do, but is foundation the same as the 'light diffusing make up'? And is 'Time-fighting rejuvenation lotion' moisturiser? It sounds more like the latest alien from Dr Who.
Apparently all this make up is good stuff... Chanel, Olay,Estee Lauder, No 7 (almost Prisoneresque?). I added it all up afterwards, and it is probably worth about £200. That is, before you open it and try daubing it all over your face.
The session involved one volunteer having a makeover while they demonstrated the technique. The rest of us then followed what was happening, taking off all the make up I didn't have on, and struggling to work out which item I was supposed to use next. There were twobeauticianss floating around from person to person demonstrating what to do: without them I would have been sunk. Tell me, someone, why cover rosy cheeks with green makeup, only to put blusher on the top afterwards? And I never got to put oneyelinerr, 'cos the colour provided clashed with the colour of eyeshadow..
After we had all made up, we got to circulate and chat and tell each other how much better we looked. (Did I really look that bad to start with?) We compared notes on scarf tying and wigs, and what stage of what we were going through. Much the best and valuable point of the day. I have since met up with one of the other ladies at the oncologist's clinic and at chemo. However, since I am on a trial doing chemo every 2 weeks rather than 3, I rarely see the same people twice. But it is nice making contact with real people, rather than in cyber space, which is where I meet most other people going through the same experience.
So now I have a fully equipped make up bag which I haven't used since. My eyelashes have fully gone, but new ones have been growing back at the same time. Not very long yet, but I don't look odd. I probably would look rather odd in mascara, but I hate the feeling of having your eyelashes stuck together, so I'm unlikely to use that anyway. Perhaps I should have a go with that eyeliner. Meanwhile, anyone want an unopened bottle of Celine Dion 'Notes'?

postnote: I've just spellchecked this. The spell checker didn't like 'makeover', suggesting 'macabre' instead. Hmmmm.

Second lot of drugs

2006-04-21T21:52:00.000+01:00

I've now had two lots of the CMF drugs and am about to have the 3rd (of 6 lots) on Tuesday. The first lot made me feel quite sick, but we went up to Sheffield that week to be looked after after P's op, so I managed to cope (tho E had a sicky bug at the same time, which didn't help). The oncologist then upped my antiemetics, so this time has been better.
One of the take home drugs is a killer tho. It counters the 'M' of the CMF and stops the mouth ulcer side effects. You're supposed to start it 24 hours after you have chemo, then every 6 hours, for 6 tablets worth. So this cycle I had my chemo at 12, so the following day I had it at 12, 6, midnight and 6am. not too bad, since we tend to go to bed late anyway. It felt like waking early but then having a long lie in. The previous cycle tho, I had my chemo at 3.30, so had to wake up at 3.30am to take a tablet. yuk.
I'm getting increasingly tired, and my fuse is getting shorter (just don't annoy me!) but I'm still managing to get into work for two short days a week. I'm not sure how much sense I make when I get there tho'.
This week I have my chemo again on Tuesday, then on Wednesday (my birthday!) I have an injection, and start feeling a bit sick for a few days. Happy birthday me! Roll on June.

The Last Couple of Weeks

2006-03-09T22:50:00.000Z

Paul and I have just spent the evening filling in insurance claims. Paul’s been dealing with the drains, and I’ve been dealing with the car.

The car? Well, a few weeks ago I was in the front room when I heard a crash and the sounds of an altercation from outside. I looked out and saw that one car had gone into another in a queue of traffic outside our house. I saw there was red vehicle debris on the road so I went out to check our car. It was fine. The debris was clearly from the other cars. Later in the day I went to the parent and toddler group at church. I parked the car on the road, and had a fun time with Eleanor. I got back to the car, put Eleanor in the front seat, walked round the back, got in and drove home. On the way home I noticed that the indicator was behaving oddly. Later in the afternoon a good friend came round with a cheer me up present, which did, until she said ‘is that your car with a damaged front bumper?’ It was. And wing. Judging by the lack of smashed headlight on the road, and the odd behaviour of the indicator, it had happened while I was at toddlers. The way I had got into the car, I hadn’t actually notice that the front wing curved at a rather more acute angle than previously. So some kind person had gone into our car and not left their details.
Several weeks and one rather small courtesy car later (3 door cars are not designed for toddlers), we got our car back, repaired and very clean in exchange for £100 excess.

So, life went on. We booked a holiday. On the first morning I looked out of the window of our cottage and noticed a small lorry near our car unloading sand. Hmmmm, I thought, they’re having work done. Not long afterward, one of the workman knocked at our door, very apologetically (not that it was his fault) and told me that the builder’s merchants had damaged our car. Hey ho, I thought, here we go again…. apparently what had happened was that whilst the delivery bloke was reversing, the unsecured crane on his truck had swung out and dented the top of our boot and the roof and smashed the quarterlight. And then he went off and Not Left His Details. Unfortunately for him, he had left a large bag full of sand with the name and phone number of his company on it, who very nicely admitted liability on his behalf, and taped up the quarterlight for us.
So, the first morning of the holiday was spent at a builder’s merchants, sorting out an insurance claim. Eleanor had great fun though, playing on a sample of driveway strengthening matting and building snowmen.

We did after that thoroughly enjoy our holiday. We were staying at Kilvert’s Cottage in Winforton in Herefordshire. We’ve stayed in the B&B before, Winforton Court. Both are excellent: A lovely host, welcome hamper (including Bucks Fizz) great cottage with lots of space for Eleanor to roam around in. Two bookshelves full of books. Very close to Hay on Wye (which amazingly, we didn’t go to this time!). The weather was beautiful, cold, clear and full of puddles. (Lots of changes of tights and trousers for the youngest member of the party). There was even enough snow to go sledging: or at least for the sledge to be pulled along, though not enough for both mother and daughter to sit on the sledge, alas. And I ran out of energy way way before Eleanor ran out of enthusiasm.

So, now we are back home, back with another diddy courtesy car and back into some sort of routine. I’m going into work for two or three short days a week. Paul is doing the odd day of supply. And now Eleanor has caught a bug, and spent the day eating hardly anything and sitting still. I’m doing my best not to catch it too, but this is very difficult with a small daughter who wants to sit on my lap and have cuddles.

My treatment is still going generally well. I felt less sick this cycle, but for longer. And I’m getting more tired (not sure how long the going into work is going to last). On my non chemo weeks, I need a blood test and to have my line flushed out. The chemo department is short staffed at the moment, so they have passed me on to the district nurses. They came round for the first time on Tuesday. There was one experienced DN, demonstrating the technique to another DN. She asked if anyone had showed me how to do it myself. I said no, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to… good job really, as I managed to faint toward the end of the procedure. Apparently it does happen sometimes, though I didn’t last time it was done, and it’s not as if I’m squemish about blood being taken and so on. Next time they’re going to sit me in a chair with arms!

Meanwhile, Paul has been to see His consultant, and he is due to have a minor op on his knee on 29th March. Although a day case, this is likely to put him out of action for a couple of weeks. Oh joy!

In fact, I’ve got so fed up with everything that’s been happening, I’ve decided that I’m going to become a citizen of another country. I am now a citizen of Lovely, have participated in the citizenship ceremony with my hand placed on the computer screen, and I have a Lovely passport, to replace the British passport which I lost last year. For those that haven’t heard of Lovely, it’s a country created last year by Danny Wallace. Currently there are 55 967 citizens, but only one of them, Danny Wallace himself, actually lives in the country itself (his flat). It even has a national anthem:

..Teach the world to sing
Danny Wallace is the king
For justice and politeness are the laws that he will bring
Where the order of the crown
Is to frown upon the frown
We done a constitution and we even wrote it down...

Maybe I should try frowning upon the frown….

Back for a Bit

2006-02-25T21:11:00.000Z

The drains have been done bar a man hole cover, and we are awaiting the report and bill from the company. As are the insurers, who will then decide how much (if any) they will pay for. So on Wednesday, Paul hobbled to work, having done his knee in again. (and what did they put him to cover? PE! He could barely walk..) I came home and cried. There was no longer an open sewer outside, but mud had been trodden into our new kitchen and bathroom, and considering what might have been contained in that mud... I then spent the next hour or so on the phone ringing round various cleaning companies, asking if there was any chance...
Two had numbers unobtainable. Several had answering machines on. A couple said they would ring back but didn't. One just laughed at me 'Molly Maids couldn't come out at such short notice'. Others said they couldn't today, but later in the week... Finally one company Did ring back to say they could come out, and later in the afternoon, No limits came round, sized up the job, got my hard earned cash, and did an excellent job. No uniform, no frills, just got on with it.
So we're now back home, confident I'm not going to catch some nasty stomach bug. I do have a cold, that I've had around 10 days now. It's improving, and apparently my white blood cells are up and fighting it. It was at it's worst in the hotel with a nasty persistent cough which is not what you want when sharing a room with a 2 year old daughter.
So, having had a taste of the high life and hotel living, we're planning on going on holiday soon and staying in a cottage for a few nights. This time for a break.

Tearing my hair out

2006-02-25T20:36:00.000Z

On the Monday the day before I had my line put in, I noticed a few more hairs in the bath than normal. By Thursday, hairs were coming out whenever I ran my hands through my hair. The toilet and drains at home also became blocked. No, not because of my hair! Because they are 100 years old and falling apart, or because they had become damaged with bricks through them. We (and the insurers) are still awaiting the report from the drains people. Thursday night we ended up round the corner at a friends house since he was away on holiday and we had his keys (never leave your house keys with the Harrisons!). By Friday night we were ensconced at the Old Farm Hotel in Bournville. This is a lovely hotel with excellent full English breakfasts and very friendly. But not exactly what we were planning. We shared a room with Eleanor which meant we had to creep in very quietly when we went to bed and watch her wake up anyway. We spent the evenings in the hotel bar with the baby intercom on. By Saturday I was quite literally tearing my hair out.
It was quite odd. I'd get hold of a clump of hair, tug gently, and the whole clump came out. I wore a buff scarf all Friday and Saturday, and by Saturday night it was getting very frustrating. It hurt if it was brushed the wrong way (a bit like if you have your hair tied back too tight) and looked horrible, and hairs were getting everywhere!
So, on Saturday night, we went round to a friend's house and Paul clippered my hair and gave me a no. 1 all over. Photos can be found on Paul's blog. Eleanor when she first saw me just held her hand to her mouth then pointed at me. She's asked me several times since where my hair has gone. Although I look most 'normal' in my wig (I also have a 'fringe wig' to go under hats) I am most comfortable wearing nothing (on my head!) or a buff. At one point I was on the phone in the hotel reception when I realised that I wasn't wearing anything on my head. The following morning I had a full head of hair, In the evening, just a head scarf...
I've worn the wig twice so far, both times to work. It's not the most comfortable of items, but I guess I'll get used to it. On Wednesday, I got fed up of even the No 1, as it was irritating when brushed the wrong way, and every time I rubbed by head, there were showers of hairs coming out. So Paul shaved my head completely. Wearing a wig after that was far more comfortable, though wearing nothing is somewhat chilly. Meanwhile, I've just had an offer through the post of a free family photo session and photo from a local(ish) photographer (in the hopes that we'll then spend hundreds of pounds on copies and enlargements!). So I'm considering booking a session and getting photos done in all the different styles...

Valentines Day: Straight in to the Jugular

2006-02-25T20:30:00.000Z

Tuesday was due to be my second chemo day, but then I also got a letter telling me I was to have my Hickman line put in. So, 7am on Tuesday morning, after a light breakfast before 6, Paul dropped me off on the ward. The nurse showing me to my bed made it very clear that Paul was not welcome to stay and support me, so I spent the morning waiting for results of a blood test before I could go to theatre, getting more and more nervous. Although I have had several operations before now, this was due to be under local with sedative, and I was dreading it. I was also trying to make sure that I would have my chemo later in the day (you don't expect different departments to coordinate, surely?)
Finally, after watching the other people in the ward have dinner, I was given a trendy hospital gown and wheeled down to the x ray theatre. Here my line was to be inserted under the guidance of x rays to make sure it went down to right vessel ad didn't puncture a lung or anything (the joys of being told all the possible side effects before you sign the consent form!)
I then waited for ages in an anteroom which was piled high with boxes and with lead aprons with cat designs all over them. By this point I was quite upset, especially since there was a bloke in the next cubicle, who had hi wife with him. If she could be there, why couldn't Paul? I was finally seen by a nurse who provided necessary tissues, then by the surgeon. The surgeon was wearing a lead apron: but his was plain black and looked rather more like a Roman soldier than a worker in a cat home. The surgeon was also quite dishy, which helped. And he explained properly what was about to happen. I had spoken to a registrar earlier, who said that the line would go into one of the 'big veins that goes into your heart' : The surgeon told me that he preferred to go in on the other side from previous surgery, and to either use the sub clavian or the jugular, but the jugular was better. Apparently with the subclavian vein there is a possibility if it gets blocked that your arm could swell, and considering IÂm at risk of that on the left anyway, I don't want that possibility on the right too. But with the jugular, since there are two jugulae (?) I'm unlikely to end up with a swollen head (!)
The surgeon the looked at the line they had provided and told them to take it away and bring a groshong line instead: 'you donÂt want that cheap rubbish'
They gave me a choice of walking into theatre or going in in style on the bed. Considering the open nature of hospital gowns, I chose the stylish option. I was then hooked up to various machines measuring my heart rate, oxygen saturation and breathing. I spent a fascinating few minutes changing my breathing and trying to lower my heart rate, before they put me on oxygen and I had less control over the readings. They then injected the first (double) amount of sedative and started cleaning me up. Beyond that I am only vaguely aware that something happened: It wasn't like being out for a general, but it wasn't as awful as I thought it'd be. I now have a stitch on my collar bone, and a tube coming out of the side of my right breast (they told me that I would still be able to wear plunging necklines. I'm not sure whether that means IÂll be able to start wearing plunging necklines...)
Chemo, when I finally got there, was a doddle. They plugged me in, and let it drip. And blood tests too will be easier. But I will need to have the system flushed each week and the dressing changed. That joy is for next Tuesday.

A note about dates: I wrote this on my Psion whilst in the hotel last week. So next Tuesday has already happened. I've had the stitch out using a curved razor blade thing. The nurse was tugging quite hard at the stich and I had visions of it suddenly giving and.... but it didn't. The flush, dressing change and blood test went fine.

Cycling...

2006-02-13T22:48:00.000Z

At the end of the first cycle: tomorrow I should have my second chemo session. I still have all my hair (well all that's left after the hair chop!). Not done too bad at all really. I felt a little bit sick the first few days, and have been off chocolate until the last couple of days. (amazing, but true). I felt very tired over the first weekend, but well enough to get into work in the middle of the second week. I went in for two days for a course that I'd organised, and was determined not to miss if I could help it. I coped with that very well, especially as part of it involved lying flat on the floor, while my colleagues measured me to see if I was asymmetrical or not. (I'm not, or at least my ribs aren't.)
Back to the Breast Clinic today: an hour and 3/4 wait for a short appointment to discuss my lack of side effects, and to get the last of my results. I am her2 negative: that means that Herceptin would do nothing for me. It also means that my cancer was somewhat less aggressive than if I was positive. I will also be saving the NHS money by not having to take it.
Tomorrow I go in to have my Hickman line put in. I am allowed to have a 'light breakfast' before.... 6am, and have to be in by 7.30. We are dropping Eleanor off at very wonderful and long suffering friends at 7am (and this during half term) who will take her to nursery. If my Hickman line is done early enough I should still be able to have my Chemo done as well. A thrilling way to spend Valentine's day.
In fact, the whole timetable seems calculated to stop any celebrations. I'm having chemo on Paul's birthday and our wedding anniversary, and an injection on my birthday.
I'm unlikely to be able to bathe with a Hickman line in situ (clothes pegs will be offered to all visitors!) so I had luxury tonight: wine, chocolates, candles, book, and a long soak in the new bath.
And now to bed, to prepare for an early start tomorrow...

Shorter hair, but still upright!

2006-02-04T22:47:00.000Z

I've got through to Saturday night, and I'm still in one piece. I've finished most of my medication this time round, except for the antibiotics which have begun tasting horrible. So far I've got away with feeling a little bit sick occasionally, somewhat tired, and a dry mouth. We had went to Frankie and Bennies rather than our normal Balti last night as a concession to my stomach.
Paul is currently uploading photos from last Wednesday. Louise came up for the day to assist with wig shopping and hair cutting, along with absently rearranging the contents of the fridge in a spare moment (one shelf for dairy, one for meat...).
The wig place is very plush and private, with pleasant staff. I discussed my current hairstyle with 'Tina' (ie, no style, no hassle).. the words she used most often in describing it were 'disheveled' and 'messy': I'm not sure if that was entirely the message I intended to get over!
The wigs all looked very convincing (have a look yourselves!) but I'm not sure Tina was totally impressed at my request to try on the long blond wig. It has to be done though. I was advised to go for one with a bit of a fringe, otherwise the 'wiggy' bit would show, and I can't just tie my hair back now (more 'wiggy' bits), so a shorter style was in order. The colour match was very good too (not with all the wigs I tried on, but they could have ordered them...) except they missed out the white hairs.
One of the wigs was even called 'Lucy' but that one was a bit too curly.
In the end we narrowed it down to two: one that looked like my hair when it has just been cut, and the other that looked more like my hair does after I've washed it, gone to bed with it wet and then brushed it. However, the neat style took less effort as a wig than the messy style, which has to be styled and arranged to have just the right amount of messiness. We arranged for Paul and Eleanor to come the following day to have their say.
Then back to Brum for the haircut. I'd told the hairdresser I wanted two appointments, one for a restyle, one for a trim. I explained when I got there how radical the restyle was to be. She took it well, though I don't think chopping off long hair is the task she looked forward to. She did an excellent job, and I now have a short and funky hairstyle... the shortest it's been since I was about 6 (I can still remember being mistaken for a boy by a bus driver in the mid 70's!).

Pincushion!

2006-02-01T11:52:00.000Z

First Chemotherapy yesterday. We were warned that we might have to wait a long time before being seen: you announce your presence, they tell pharmacy, pharmacy take up to 2 hours to prepare your drugs, Then you get called in. So I went prepared with book and knitting, and planned a trip into Harborne in the interim too. As it was, we arrived, asked to see the trial nurse, were told she wasn't around, waited a bit, asked if they could ring the trial nurse, a message was left on her answering machine, went into the waiting room, saw the trial nurse, got checked out by a doc to make sure a queried infection wasn't a problem (not sure, it might be cellulitis, might not, have some more antibiotics just in case) and then went in for Chemo.
We'd been having some discussions about how you describe the process of sitting there with a drip in you for a while. Are you being dripped? Injected? Infused? We asked the chemo nurse and came to the conclusion that I was being infused, which made me feel like a cup of tea. Actually I felt more like a jelly. Having gone through the op with no qualms (having had several in recent years!) I was downright scared of the chemo.
I had cause.
I was sat in a comfy chair and my hand warmed with a wheat pad. They like to put the drip in your hand at the beginning, cos once one bit of the vein has had the chemo drug pumped through it they then can't use that bit of vein again, and either have to insert the drip further up on the same vein the next time, or use another vein.
The first needle bruised me. I was then moved into a private room, in need of tissues and some reassurance. In fact I was in floods and being a complete drip about having the drip inserted. The second attempt on a different vein worked for a bit then stopped. The third (second opinion sought by this time)hit a valve. The fourth and fifth attempts didn't work. The sixth, in the elbow, worked. So that is that for that particular vein. My left arm can't be used as I have to avoid injury as I have no lymph nodes in my armpit. They reckon they can get one more treatment in, using the only other visible vein, then I'm going to have to have a Hickman Line inserted. This will mean that all the drugs and blood tests can be done using this, so each individual treatment will be easier. However it will mean having (yet another) minor operation.
Once the drip was inserted, the chemo nurse then injected the Epirubicin into the tube (and therefore me!) It was a disconcerting red colour and took a good while to go in. This was followed by another couple of syringes of other drugs (antiemetics I think), one of which she warned me could feel like I was sitting on nettles for a minute. And it did, but not too bad. Maybe small nettles.
Meanwhile, Paul was sent to the pharmacy, to collect 7 different medications, 6 of which we had to pay for. I've drawn up a chart, as one of them is 4 times a day on an empty stomach for 5 days then discard the rest; one 3 times a day with meals for 3 days then as needed; one once a day; one 2 tablets four times a day for 5 days... I think... Plus a mouthwash, and suppositories (if needed) (not to be confused).
I've been back to the hospital today for an injection, then I need to go back next Tuesday for a bloodtest, and the following Tuesday for my next lot of Chemo. And more tablets.
Meanwhile, the only side effect I've experienced is pink wee (only temporary, I'm assured!) I've got around a fortnight left of my hair, so I'm going to get a wig this afternoon, and get my haircut, with a friend from Poly, Louise, who is coming up anytime soon. Photos will appear on the website!

parp sniff

2006-01-19T22:13:00.000Z

Now Eleanor has generously donated her cold to me!

The technical stuff

2006-01-17T21:09:00.000Z

OK, so this is what they told me.

Surgery: I had a left Wide Local Excision: ie they took out the lump, and a fair bit of tissue from around it.
I also had Axillary Clearance. This is where they took out a load of lymph nodes from my armpit. (The actual scar is just under my armpit)

Type: Ductal (ie the cancer was growing in my milk duct)

Size: 19 mm : This is classed as small. The surgeon said I'd probably caught it as early as I could, though it could have been growing for a couple of years. Before this stage they are hard to detect. There was also about 6mm of DCIS (precancerous cells) around this which they also removed. The margins are clear: this means that they also removed some healthy tissue to make sure they'd got it all.

Grade: 3: This means that it's a nasty aggressive beastie. However, most women my age with breast cancer apparently are grade 3.

Lymph glands: 1 out of the 20 removed contained a tumour.

Hormones: Oestrogen and Progesterone -ve. Some cancers feed off some hormones, and if mine did, there would be various medications (like Tamoxifen)that I could take. However, mine doesn't so I won't.

HER2 status: Still waiting for this info. This basically would indicate whether Herceptin would be any use.

Chemotherapy: It is entirely possible that the surgery took out all the cancer cells, but there may well be some still slooshing around my system, so the chemo and radio are aiming at those. Without it there is a 40% chance that it would reoccur, with it there is a 20% chance. So (if I've got my statistics right!) There is a 60% chance that I'll go through chemo but not actually need to 'cos it's all already dealt with. And there's a 20% chance I'll go through it but still have problems in the future. But there is no way of telling which.
I will be having Epi-CMF, which is Epirubicin, Methotrexate,Cyclophosphamide & Flourouracil. This is 4 lots of the Epi bit followed by 4 lots of the CMF bit. They bung you full of the chemicals, wait a while for your own cells to recover a bit, then hit you with the chemicals again. I can't wait. The Epi bit is normally every 3 weeks so takes 3 months, the CMF bit is every 4 weeks so takes 4 months. However:

NEAT-A study is the name of the clinical trial that I should be participating in. Basically, they want to try to do the whole thing faster to give the cancer cells less chance. However, they need to give my white blood cells as much chance as possible, to prevent infection. This is why there is normally a 3 week rest period between getting the drugs. However, in this trial they give you a G-CSF drug called pegfilgrastim or Neulasta which encourages white blood cells to recover faster. The resting period would then be 2 weeks. So the whole lot will take 20 weeks rather than 28.

Side Effects of Chemo: loads. Possibility of infection, hair loss (we already own 3 wigs: Cleopatra, mad scientist and beatle), sore mouth, colic, diarrhoea, fertility problems, tiredness etc etc. We shall see which I come up with. When I know the date I'll be starting chemo, I intend to cut my hair short.. I think I've found an organisation who will buy hair to make into wigs for people with alopecia. Anyone want to join me in radical hairstyle change? E thinks I ought to cut my hair to look like Dad's. Hmmmm.

Results... and Trials

2006-01-17T20:50:00.000Z

Paul and I spend all of yesterday afternoon at the breast clinic. We had 3 consultations, 4 hot drinks, 2 buns and one lost handbag (I lost and found my handbag at almost exactly the same time as another punter who had been in the next bed to me in hospital lost and found hers. I think there's a black hole in the clinic somewhere.)

First Consultation: Had my scars checked by Breast Care Nurse and fluid drained from under the arm. 450mls worth. No wonder I was finding it uncomfortable to sleep. Unfortunately the fluid is building up again. P tells me I was walking around looking like C3PO. There's nothing like encouragement! Apparently this is all perfectly normal, and I am recovering well. I've got good range of movement in my shoulder (though I'm sure a few sessions of hydrotherapy wouldn't go amiss: if anyone at work needs a little practice?).

Second Consultation: With the surgeon. The surgery went well, they got all of the cancer and precancerous cells, took out 20 lymph nodes of which one was cancerous - this means that it had begun to spread. This seemed to be on the good side of what they expected for my age(no lymph node involvement would be better).

Third Consultation: With the Oncologist. Basically I will be having Chemotherapy: normally this is over 7 months, but I can take part in a clinical trial which would shorten it to about 4 1/2 months. Then I'll get radiotherapy. I've got to have various blood tests and the like first, and we'll go back next Monday to discuss the details.

Meanwhile, E has a bad cold and a bit of a temperature. We stayed at home today and watched Cbeebies all morning. Quite how I'm going to manage during Chemo when I'm supposed to avoid infection I don't know. E seems to be starting on getting all the Brummie infections, having exhausted all the Black Country ones.

There's a load more technical info which I shall post in a separate post once I've got my head round it a bit. Or you can look at Paul's blog, which he is typing at the mo, which probably says much the same.

The History .. Part 6: The MSc

2006-01-16T09:39:00.000Z

Last Friday I should have handed in my first assignment for my MSc.
For the past few years I have been considering doing an MSc in Learning Disabilities. The University of Birmingham do a good taught MSc, and I quite liked the idea of being a student again, going to some lectures, getting in cheap at the cinema... and forgetting the 2am essay crises and not being able to find the one book or article to complete an assignment.
In fact, I was seriously considering starting this MSc in 2003, but Eleanor had other ideas. So, now that she is 2, and (at the moment!) sleeping through the night, I applied for the course, and in October, at last became a student at Birmingham University. (Paul has been making comments ever since about how long it took me to see the light etc. I still maintain that I have attended the best Poly and best New University... and the second best University in Oxford. I see no need to attend a red brick University as well. But hey, they offered the course I wanted!)
Now however, the University now only offers the MSc as a distance learning course. So I am in the odd position of being on a distance learning course at an institution around 2 miles away. There are texts that we have to download each week, with dire warnings not to download them early, as there may be changes and updates (I haven't noticed any yet).
I now have a student card, and have enjoyed getting my discount at the cinema. I attended freshers fair, and was immediately stopped by someone who guided me towards the 'post grad and mature students society' stall. You mean I don't look half my age? The fact that many of the other freshers were in nappies when I was first a student...
I had completed all the texts in my module, and was beginning on my assignment when I was diagnosed. The first assignment is a case study, and I had booked time out at work to do the research, and had 5 weeks in which to write it up. Which considering how last minute I normally am, is not bad. However, my last week at work was spend running around trying to sort out my caseload and other responsibilities, so I had no chance of getting the information I needed. Nor did I have any brain power to even start thinking of the assignment. So I have deferred the whole course for a year.
I am still on the computer system tho'. So I have begun downloading the information for module 2: Research Methods (excitement!!). And at any time when I am in work, I can pick up the case study again. This is when I find out that they have decided to change the whole course for next year. But still, it will give me something to do to keep me out of mischief.
I have to inform the University in August whether I intend to take up the course again in October. Which in effect, since I have done all of Module 1 except the assignment, means that in August I have to predict how well I am going to be in December. So I guess the more I can get done while I am well, the better.

Home and Gentle Exercises

2006-01-08T22:09:00.000Z

I've been sent home with a set of exercises that I have to do 4 times each, 4 times a day, indefinitely. This is to retain range of movement in my shoulder following surgery. (It's not the surgery to remove the lump that's the problem: I also had lymph nodes removed from under the arm to check if the cancer's spread)
The exercises include putting my hand on the back of my head and moving my elbow backwards and forwards. And holding my arm out to the side, fingers straight, bending and flexing my wrist. Try it. Did you feel as silly as I do?
It's a wait now (about 3 weeks) for the results of the op: they examine all the tissue to make sure they've got all the cancer and if it's spread. Then after that they tell me exactly what they're going to do. Meanwhile I can't drive for 3 - 4 weeks, I should be off work 6-8 weeks. My arm is feeling numb in places as nerves have been cut. I've got to be careful not to cut/burn/otherwise damage my left arm for the rest of my life, as lymphoedema is a possible side effect of the surgery. And I can't wear deodrant for about 2 weeks. However P has a bad cold and E hasn't complained yet...

I'm home

2006-01-05T20:18:00.000Z

I'm home, a bit uncomfortable but not really sore, and tired. E has just gone to bed, and I think I'll be following her example.

One day post-op

2006-01-04T20:49:00.000Z

7.56 in the morning after the op. My back aches - I've been sleeping in the same position all night. I've got a cotton shoulder bag containing my drain and trendy white stockings.
I was told yesterday that I was 3rd on the list. Should have the op around lunchtime. Nothing to eat or drink since midnight (I did contemplate a pre midnight feast...). I can cope with not eating (honest!), but it's the lack of early morning cup of tea that's the killer. I even got P to bring me in some Earl Grey tea bags yesterday. Anyway, just before 10 yesterday, I was sitting twiddling my thumbs and developing a headache, when they came to take me to theatre, having changed the lists. Quick change into gown and stockings, gulped down my pre meds and wheeled down various different coloured corridors. The turning circle on a bed is quite big, and judging by the state of the corners of the walls, not all the porters make the manoeuvre successfully (my porter was a skilled one though).
Into the anaesthetic room accompanied by a 1st year student who did a very good job of reassurance and gentle chit chat. Got various press studs glued to me my a chap with 'Smile Jesus loves you' tattooed to his arm. I kept my eyes open as long as I could, and went under round about 10.15
By the time P came to visit I had surfaced enough to converse. I feel far better than after my abdominal ops: laughing, coughing and sitting up are all fine.
It's now 10am, I’ve been seen by the breast care nurse and put my bra on (not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be) and given my exercises: basic range of movement of my left shoulder. Not too uncomfortable, just need to make sure I remember to do them.
I'm in a large ward, 16 beds, but remarkably quiet at night. The sinks in the bathrooms are tiny, so cleaning teeth is awkward. However we have internet access, telephones and TV at the bedside... mind you, the hospital gets money from this. It costs us 10p a minute to ring out, but anyone ringing me has to pay 49p a minute. If anyone is feeling rich, Paul has the number. This morning I tried to make a phonecall, and it wouldn’t connect me, then said I had £4600 in my account. I should have tried to get my card refund!
Latest estimate of release is tomorrow or Friday... depending on when they take the drain out.

The History... part whatever…the Renovations

2006-01-02T20:25:00.002Z

On New Year's Eve we cooked a full Christmas dinner for ourselves and Robin and Beth (my brother and sister-in-law). This is the first major bit of catering we've done in our new kitchen. We've been trying to get our kitchen and bathroom replaced (floors, ceilings, bathroom window and all) for the past 2 years. We finally found someone who would give us a quote, and the work has been done (by and large). Everyone who came was excellent; we only had a couple of days in which no work took place. The bathroom is now a lot smaller, with a 'utility box' between it and the kitchen. We have a range style cooker with 2 ovens and 7 burners (great for full roast meals). We have cupboards. We have doors! We have space! Eleanor enjoys being able to come into the kitchen and sit in the middle of the floor. And Paul and I enjoy getting back to real food. We had five weeks of microwave meals (when we could get at the microwave), baltis, inviting ourselves to friends’ houses, and eating at the pub across the road. We realised it'd been going on too long when Eleanor started walking down the road saying 'hooray pub!' and pointing out pubs on the way home from nursery. The work was all completed the week I had my diagnosis, so we didn't really feel like opening the saved bottle of champagne. And we won't be having the 'kitchen warming party' we had been planning - or at least not yet.

The history part whatever plus one: Work

2006-01-02T20:25:00.001Z

2006 will be a very interesting year at work. Under Valuing People all long-stay Learning Disability hospitals should already have closed. Ours is still in the process. Several people have been resettled, and other plans are at various stages of completion. My experience in Social Services has come in handy when looking at the plans. The OT service is also changing. Having been a day service for many years, serving 60 odd onsite and community clients, we are in the process of setting up a community service serving more like 900 clients in the borough.
Meanwhile the team has been changing. We have all been through the delightful pay review process of Agenda for Change. This meant that for a while the OT assistants were graded higher than the nursing assistants, and the senior OTs higher than the nurses doing an equivalent job.
There were 3 senior OTs in the department. One has just started a new job nearer to home. My manager is due to go on maternity leave in February. And me. I was due to 'Act up' during tbe maternity leave (quite literally... I was making all sorts of dire threats as to how I would change the department... start basket weaving and the like...). However, now we have no idea how much I’m likely to be in work over the next year. I could be off for just a few weeks, or I might not even be up to working for a year. Probably somewhere in-between.
I spent a frantic week just before Christmas trying to sort everything out, handing over my caseload and responsibilities, cancelling courses etc, and loads of meetings. At one stage I was in two meetings at once, and also putting my head round the door of the social room where the 'animal man' was showing tarantulas and owls to the clients and the children from the nursery, including Eleanor. (No, she didn't touch any of them. And the owl tried to bite me!)
So the team are going to have to cope without senior specialist input. Though the head OT in the trust, the LD general manager and various other big cheeses have offered support. I also have the ability to go into work as much or as little as I am able, and to do as much or little work as I am capable of when I am there. This is very encouraging, as I don't want to feel that my diagnosis should automatically write me off for the year...

Into hospital

2006-01-02T20:24:00.000Z

I was admitted at 1pm this afternoon (Bank Holiday Monday), have had blood pressure and temp taken and the usual battery of questions. So now I twiddle my thumbs for the rest of the day. I have a posh electric riser bed for the first time (I’m on the right side of the ward it seems). We've been told that P isn't able to be here during the op, so won’t be there when I come back to the ward. I was rather upset at this, and the nurse was trying to reassure me that it was only a small op: that's Not The Point! I will have had surgery however minor or major, and I want my husband to be nearby. However the NHS thinks in term of logistics: the inconvenience of having stressed relatives around, rather than about people and how having someone familiar there immediately after surgery might decrease my stress!
So far I have sewn labels onto E's clothes ready for tomorrow, and started on eating through my pile of goodies. I'm supposed to be fasting from midnight, so no early morning cup of tea....

The History of our Lives for the Past Few Weeks No 3: Nurseries

2005-12-24T07:14:00.000Z

Since Eleanor was three months old, she has been going for at least two days a week to the Nursery at work. This is based just down the corridor from my office. We didn't even look anywhere else when choosing a nursery. I had been on courses with members of the staff, regularly bumped into other staff members at the canteen, and the children had regularly come to events that we put on at the Centre, and used our soft play room. The children always looked happy and settled, and it had a very good reputation. We were even warned about the waiting list, so Eleanor had been booked in for several months before she was born.
Eleanor settled in very well, and loved it at the Nursery. Until a couple of months ago I would visit her at lunchtime, initially to drop off extra milk, then simply 'cos I liked seeing her. She only got upset on one or two occasions when I left, and that seemed to be more because the dinner was late! Generally I found it difficult to get her to say goodbye properly, as she was too engrossed in what was going on.
Eleanor gradually moved up through the various rooms, and various staff reshuffles also happened during her time there, meaning that her keyworker happened to end up also moving up through the rooms at the same time. Meanwhile, numbers of children attending were falling, so Eleanor often ended up being the only child in her room, so would often spend time with some of the older children. In the end, Eleanor ended up getting almost a cross between a child-minder and a nursery.
With the site closing, fewer people were using the nursery, and the powers that be looked at lots of different alternatives for a new site. Various options were looked at, including becoming part of the new build resource centre that is currently being built on our car park. For a long time we were told that the Nursery was continuing, and would probably be rebuilt somewhere on site.
In August, the trust achieved 'Practice Plus' under 'Improving Working Lives' and posters went up Everywhere boasting about this achievement, and what a wonderful place the Trust was to work for. One of the thing boasted about on the posters was the Childcare provision.
In September, we had a letter (place in Eleanor's basket) telling us that the nursery was closing in February, and all the staff would be made redundant. They had been unable to come up with a viable business plan, plus the government in it's wisdom had announced that PCTs should no longer provide services, so bye bye to the Nursery.
Staff had been told the day before, and the whole thing seemed to come out of the blue. Staff and parents were in tears, and a parent meeting was held shortly afterwards, with rather heated discussions taking place, but nothing could be done.
We decided that we ought to look for a nursery in Birmingham so that Paul could pick Eleanor up as well, and we could also take advantage of the nursery for any days I was off work, or in Coventry. We looked at a couple, and also visited a Childminder that comes to our church Toddler group. In the end, we decided that since Eleanor had been used to a nursery, we would carry on with nursery rather than childminder, and at the beginning of December booked her in to a nursery in Northfield.
She visited everywhere with us, and was very happy to join in and start playing with new children and new toys. So far she has had a couple of 'settling in' sessions at the new Nursery, and not wanted to come home.
Her old Nursery, meanwhile has been steadily diminishing. Staff have been getting other jobs, and children finding other placements. They decided not to have a Nativity this year, due to the small number of children, but did have a 'Little Reindeer's Sing-a-long'. For weeks Eleanor has been giving loud renditions of 'Away in a Manger' and 'The Santa on the Sleigh goes Ho Ho Ho' in the car. On the day she stood at the front wearing Reindeer Antlers and a flashing nose, whispering the first one or two songs, then spent the rest of the concert with Wardrobe malfunction, as her nose and Antlers kept slipping off. This week they came and did a short repeat for the Centre Christmas Service (which Paul led): This time all the children sang beautifully, except Eleanor who refused even to stand with the other children and spent her time taking baubles off the tree.
Eleanor came in for an extra day on Wednesday, and the children came down to the centre again for the 'animal man': Various animals from tarantulas to owls, almost all of which Eleanor refused to touch. They then had a party in the afternoon, complete with visit from a Father Christmas. This was Eleanor's last day and there were tears all round, except from Eleanor, who looked a little bemused. She did take a very long time walking down the corridor, stopping at every small familier thing and saying 'What's that?'.
The move to a new nursery however, has at least in some ways come at a good time. Eleanor's first day is on 3rd Jan, the same day as my operation. With me being off work for anything for 6 weeks to a year, Eleanor would have needed to be in a nursery closer to home, so without the Nursery closing, we would probably been spending the last week frantically looking for a new place for her. We will miss the old nursery a lot though, and hope to keep in touch with her keyworker. It does mean that Eleanor will grow up with a more Brummie accent rather than the Black Country accent that has been appearing. Unfortunately there are few nurseries around here that are staffed entirely with Yorkshire Folk.

The History of our Lives for the Past Few Weeks: No. 2: The Clinic

2005-12-19T23:23:00.000Z

The Breast Clinic at the Women's is rather like a conveyor belt: Turn up, wait, move to another waiting area, wait, test, wait, another waiting area, test, wait, move.... Plus spending half an afternoon dressed in a fashionable hospital shift ('you can wear it either way round' : however I'd rather accidently show my back than my front, thank you.)

The mammogram wasn't too bad. The literature said it can be uncomfortable and occasionally painful, but I didn't find it too much of a problem. The difficulty I had was all the contortionism that was needed: move your feet to the left a bit, your bottom to the right, stick your bottom out, put your hand on your head, chin up.... I found in the end that it was my ankle that hurt, due to the position I was in. I can't say it was a pleasant sensation being squashed, but better in some ways than the dentist's!

Then it was more waiting, an ultrasound, yet more waiting then meeting the consultant and having fine needle aspiration and a biopsy. The aspiration they describe as having an injection in reverse, the biopsy (under local anaesthetic) the literature they give you describes as sounding like a gun going off. Not the most encouraging of analogies, however I only read that post procedure. It sounds more like a staple gun.

This part of the procedure was observed by a medic from Akrotiri, the British base in Cyprus. He was visiting Birmingham which is a centre for defense medicine, to brush up on his clinical skills. He was a Wing Commander, and we had a rather surreal conversation about how nice Cyprus was at this time of year, while all the above was being sorted. Very polite chap with a very plummy accent.

We then had about an hour's wait, while the results from the aspiration came through: the biopsy will take a few days.

When we came back (after the standard shunt between waiting areas), we were told that the lump was cancer. Basically, they can take it out along with some of the surrounding healthy tissue (a wide local excision) along with some of the lymph nodes under the arm. I'm booked in for this on 3rd Jan (going in on the 2nd) and should be in for a couple of days. At the moment I'm not too worried about this: yet another operation, different hospital this time; it's at the QE, which is just opposite the women's. At least the scar will be in a different place.

After the op, I'll be having radiotherapy and, because I'm so young, (!) chemotherapy. Quite how this will affect me remains to be seen, and I've no idea how well or ill I'll be during the process.

The History of our Lives for the Past Few Weeks: No. 1: The Lump

2005-12-19T21:11:00.000Z

I don't check my breasts at all regularly or thouroughly, but a few weeks ago I noticed a lump in my left breast. I was a bit concerned, so took myself off to the Doc's, who examined me and told me that it was most likely to be fibrous but just in case, she'd refer me on for a mammogram. Though she did tell me that at my age as my breasts were 'immature' it is possible the mammogram might not show much, so I might need a biopsy. So, yet another trip to the Birmingham Women's Hospital. I seem determined to visit every department and ward there. At least we know where to park.

In-ger-laaand!

2004-06-16T20:49:00.001+01:00

Another bit of sewing for Eleanor last night. Her nursery is having to do some fund raising this year, as previously they have always joined in the Hospital summer fete. However, as the hospital is gently closing, there won't be a summer fete this year. So the first of the fund raising days was a football day... face painting, biscuit making, flag waving etc. All the children were asked to dress in football gear or appropriate clothes.
Paul and I being the avid football fans we aren't, we didn't have anything remotely footbally, so I found a white dress of Eleanors and sewed on some red ribbon. Only when I had almost finished did I notice that it was size 0-3 months. Ooops. Fortunately it was just a little short, and at almost 8 months, micro skirts just look cute.

The dedication gown...

2004-05-25T23:45:00.000+01:00

Eleanor's dedication and our 70th party weekend is over, and I managed to finish the dress (after a fashion).

Reminder to self: don't try to make a christening gown when you have a 7 month old child!

So the gown has some 'design features': The overlapping diamond at the base of the dress, the ribbons rather than button holes...

It also needs finishing in some areas. At least I noticed that I was sewing one arm on inside out Before double stitching it.

Some families have family arms. We have a family sleeve: with squares sewn by Paul and both my parents. Anna sewed a lot of the squares together, and Chris W and M both did sterling service with much of the rest.

Hurrah for ebay! The lace cost £7 and was sold with the following description:

I found these and many other pieces amongst my great grandmothers things, all in a drawer along with her crochet hooks, lace making bobbins and silks. She died at a great age back in the '40's and to the best of my knowledge these items have not seen the light of day since then.

There are two long lengths of lace work. One piece, which measures 9ft in length is straight along one edge and pointed along the other. It measures 2.1/4" at it's deepest. The other length measures over 13ft in length. It is wavy in design and is approx. 1" deep.

The silk was much newer and more local, having been bought from the Birmingham rag market.