Friday, 30 April 2010
Frequently asked questions
Some people have asked for more detail on procedures, prognosis and current condition, so I’ve done a sort of Q&A here. Skip this bit if you don’t like this sort of detail.
What did they actually do to you?
They removed all the breast tissue (mascectomy), took a muscle out of my back, threaded the muscle tissue round under the skin to fill in the breast, leaving the outer breast skin. Later they will construct a nipple if I want them to. The new tissue comes with its own blood supply and nerve endings. This was a complicated operation involving disconnecting and reconnecting blood vessels etc. Probably why it took six hours. They also sampled some lymph glands under my arm to see if the cancer has spread. They inject a green dye which shows which lymph glands connect to the tumour area so they know which ones to sample. This dye makes bodily fluids go green for a few days (hence the green wee!). There is a one per cent chance of the body rejecting the new breast within the first 24 hours after surgery, after that, the tissue will ‘take’.
Are you in much pain?
I’ve got a back wound and a front wound. The back wound stings a bit especially when leaning back on things. Occasionally I get twinges in the new breast but mostly it feels numb. I have a stinging sensation under my arm where they took lymph nodes. I am having odd sensations in my back where they took the muscle out, but these aren’t painful. These are just the other muscles and nerve endings wondering what the hell’s going on. Pain is a subjective experience and everyone is different. I would say the pain is about equal to when I broke my collar-bone and considerably less than when I had meningitis.
How’s the back orgasm?
Still getting this – and it can happen at random whenever I lean my back on something – which means you can’t really take me out in public at the moment as it makes me squeal! It’s a series of involuntary muscle spasms which is actually more pleasurable than painful, if a little alarming. Sometimes it feels like there is a hidden hand just below the surface of the skin tickling me. My lay-person’s explanation is that these nerves must hook up to pleasure receptors in the brain (similar mechanism to orgasm), rather than pain sensors. The nurse said this over-sensitivity is common but my reaction seems to be ‘extreme’
Isn’t that weird?
Yes, proper weird.
What happens next?
They go away and analyse the tumour and the lymph. The tumour is the black box which will tell them all they need to know about the cancer. I go back in three weeks to learn what the damage is and get a treatment plan.
So what’s the prognosis?
I went for the full mastectomy rather than lumpectomy to give myself the best chance of getting rid of the cancer with no recurrence. The MRI scan indicated the cancer had not spread beyond the tumour area and was not in the other breast. Mine is a hormone-fed cancer which I understand is less invasive than other types, but I will learn more when they’ve analysed the black box. There will be some follow-up treatment, but I don’t know what yet. I am hoping to avoid any nasty chemo type drugs.
What’s the recovery time?
Minimum six weeks recovery from the op itself. Can take up to three months. The fitter you are when you go for surgery the quicker the recovery. I was fit when I went in.
Will the reconstruction actually look like a normal breast?
I think so. My surgeon was the brilliant Miss Bello. She is both an oncologist and a plastic surgeon and is, I’m told’, a perfectionist. My friend Jane had the same op four performed by Miss Bellow four years ago and I had a look at hers. It looks and feels like a normal breast. Apart from a small scar you wouldn’t know it had even been operated on.
What about scarring?
I’ve got a horizontal scar across my back but it’s quite low so I will be able to wear reasonably low backed tops. There’s an oval-shaped scar on the breast which will fade with time.
How did you discover the cancer?
Found a lump one day. Wasn’t sure it was even a lump as I didn’t really know what I was looking for. The doc got me into the breast clinic within two weeks (thanks Gordon!). From diagnosis to operation was less than four weeks. The lump was 2.8 cm in diameter.
What are you able to do now?
I can walk around the house and garden and to the end of the road. I can bath and shower myself. (The dressings are shower-proof). I can make cups of tea and fix myself snacks. My right arm has limited mobility but I am doing exercises like arm raises and finger-walking up the wall to bring the movement back. I am still resting quite a lot but my energy levels and mood are good.
Have/will you make any lifestyle changes as a result of the cancer?
Yes, we've got a cleaner! I may look at diet etc but will examine the evidence first rather than listening to quack-science.
How do you cope?
I am coping well because I have excellent support. My husband, friends and colleagues are wonderful. It’s so important. Even if people aren’t physically anywhere near it gives a tremendous boost to know they are wishing you well. I really pity anyone who has to go through this alone. There have been some very bleak moments but they are few, and short-lived. I have faith, and believe I have been given a transcendental grace to deal with this. I have had people of many denominations praying for me – from RC to Sikh – which is supremely comforting.
Did JP get you a bell?
Yes, he got me a lovely bell off ebay, see pic.
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Home
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Release
Doc's done his rounds, says I can go! Waiting for my release papers.
Have been a bit blogaholic today. Feel euphoric, and this time nothing to do with morphine as have not touched the stuff for days. This is pure endorphin.
Thank you, Nottingham City Hospital, for my excellent care.
It's an ill wind ..
City accommodation review
Cuisine: basic but edible. Meals served a little early.
Staff: superb. Can't do enough for you. Room service includes counselling and opiates on demand.
Entertainment: cricket, archery, and theatre on site. No wi-fi. Don't bother with the TV package. It's a rip-off. There's a wide screen telly in the lounge for use by guests.
CWS (check out date: Wednesday 28 April.)
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Get me out of here!
Monday, 26 April 2010
Appeal - exercise bike
Btw some people are apparently still not able to post comments. If you use the anonymous option you should be able to do so. Cx
Sunday, 25 April 2010
City Theatre Review
They also ask me about myself. How old am I, do I have my own teeth, and have I got any piercings?
Then one of the men says "I'm going to give you this. It's like three sherries."
I go dizzy and sleep through the rest of the show. I am in theatre for six hours.
In the days that follow, people keep saying: "I was at your operation."
It seems the whole world was there. Must have been quite a party.
Saturday, 24 April 2010
Things hospital staff say
"Oooh look - green wee!" (Nurse)
"We need to get you exercising!" (Physio on day one, when I was attached to fluid drip, morphine pump, catheter, oxygen masc and four drains)
Friday, 23 April 2010
news from the City
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Loo review
The strangest toilet I ever saw was in France in the 80s. It was one of those contintental loos with foot pads but it doubled up as a shower. Equally strange is the one in my cousin's garden which doubles up as a composter. I guess I am about to enter a world of bed-pans and catheterisation - nice. Taking blackberry with me so can blog on morphine...
Reasons to be fearful
Just been to see the surgeon who scared the hell out of me by listing all the things that could possibly go wrong. But as JP says, if a pilot told you everything that could go wrong before take-off everyone would get off the plane.
People have asked what I am scared of. Ultimately it boils down to two things (both very unlikely):
- Fear of waking up in the middle of the operation
- Fear of not waking up at the end.
The scary thing about death is you go there alone, and although many people have gone before you they're not in a position to tell you what it's like.
That said, I feel propelled by a surge of good will which makes a power of difference in over-riding fear.
Monday, 19 April 2010
Things consultants say
"The problem is, where you've put it [the tumour]."
"If you were a 42 double-D, it wouldn't make much difference"
Said to a friend on discovering she had cancer for a 4th time..
"Well, we're all heading in the same direction.."
Sunday, 18 April 2010
"God help you in the hands of the medical profession"
Personally, I trust both (God and the medical profession) to get me through this, just as 20 years ago, they cured me of meningitis.
This week I become the property of the NHS. It goes like this:
Monday: Pre-op - to make sure I'm fit.
Tuesday: Consent to surgery (if you don't consent it's assault and battery). The surgeon may want to draw on me, apparently. She is, after all, an artist.
Wednesday: The operation. I'm looking forward to the morphine.
Friday, 16 April 2010
The weather
Yesterday an impenetrable volcanic gloom hung over everything - like some weird nuclear winter.
Today the sun has broken through and I'm feeling chippa.
Perhaps we'll get out on the boat this weekend. Boating is the best therapy. There's no rage on the river, just good-will.
Thursday, 15 April 2010
comments and other tecky stuff
People have also said I must be insomniac as I'm posting things at all times of day and night. I'm not, but have noticed it was set to Pacific time zone so have changed it to London.
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Inside a Russian cosmonaut
There's a giant space-suited model of Valentina Tereshkova, the first woman in space. You can wander around inside it.
The blurb says:"Visitors can enter her body through her legs, as if this Tereshkova goddess is the source of all life."
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
Two youths at the bus stop
Youth two: "But people pull through."
Youth one: 'They pull through yeah but cancer it keeps bouncing back. Once you've got cancer you're finished man!'
I turn round to them:
"I've got cancer and I'm gonna pull through," then hail my bus.
I NEVER talk to youths at bus-stops. What's got into me?
Sunday, 11 April 2010
Top of the ops
When Mike B went in to have his brain aneurism out they opened him up but nicked an artery and couldn't operate, so he had to go through the whole thing again. He was unlucky.
Trish said her friend woke up in the middle of hers.
John L said he'd have a general anaesthetic every six months if he could: "It's the best sleep you ever get."
I'm booked in for an uber-operation on 21 April in which they remove the breast and reconstruct it using the latissimus dorsi muscle. (Only rock-climbers need this muscle apparently so that's ok). I'm shit-scared. Never had an operation. Most people have, it seems - even the cat! The surgeon is reputedly 'an artist' and the hospital is one of the best.Friday, 9 April 2010
Cider with Nick and Vince
They don't give you sick notes any more they give you well-notes. Appropriate as I still feel well despite the non-benign presence within me.
After a couple of shitty days yesterday was a good to be alive day - with glorious spring sunshine throughout. After nightfall we lay on the trampoline and watched the stars come out. Amazing how many constellations you can see even in the city.
This week's good news is they've scrapped the cider-tax. Lib dems are claiming the credit for this to help the Somerset producers - West Country people being about the only ones who vote for them.
Thursday, 8 April 2010
Smart move
IT'S TRYING TO GET IN THE HOUSE!
Bumped into Brian from two doors down. Told him my news, and he reeled off a list of his ladyfriends who have had breasts removed - most of them, it seems!
And now Martina Navratilova has come out of the closet too. What with her and Kylie I am in illustrious company.
Monday, 5 April 2010
Everything gives you cancer
She subscribes to a magazine called What Doctors Don't Tell You - which seems to major on a giant conspiracy around conventional medicine.
I think while it's worth looking at such views you have to be careful not to sink into a slough of paranoia and negativity.
Anything could give you cancer but as for treating it, I reckon at the moment, conventional Western medicine backed up with a bit of complimentary is probably my best bet.
Friday, 2 April 2010
medical mutiny
They usually use a severe regime of chemo and other nasties to treat this condition and even then people are only expected to live about four years. This guy treated himself with vitamins, acupuncture etc and lived for eight.
Makes you think!
Thursday, 1 April 2010
options for the op
If I was fat, they could use stomach tissue to infill- and I'd effectively get free liposuction on the NHS into the bargain. But I'm not. So the best option is to use a muscle from my back, which apparently I don't need. The advice is, do lots of swimming and gym work before going under the knife, to build up this, and other muscles.
The irony is, I feel about as healthy right now as I ever have. It's hard to believe there is anything wrong with me.