If you are reading this then you've probably already heard the good news. Both the CT and bone scan have come back clear - excellent!! This means that there is no sign that the naughty cancer has spread beyond my boob and settled anywhere else in my body. However, chemo is still needed - to ensure that any rogue cancer cells that may have escaped around my body are sought out and destroyed by the avenging chemo drugs.
I will be having FEC-T chemotherapy treatment. This will be 3 cycles of FEC, followed by 3 cycles of T. Sounds quite simple really!
Each cycle is 3 weeks long, starting with the dose of chemo drugs on day 1. On about day 15 I have to attend the clinic to check my blood levels etc with a view to repeating the process once we get to day 22 (or day 1 of the next cycle).
The other news? The decision has been made - no cold cap. As Ian pointed out to the registrar, ice cream gives me brain freeze - I would never cope with a hat on that went down to -6C.
As I sat discussing all the side effects with the doctor he warned me the chemo would more than likely make me feel "bleurgh". I felt compelled to ask exactly how many seminars he had attended at university to learn how to describe the effects so accurately. He cheerfully said "Seven years of medical school and that's as good as it gets"! It was very refreshing to have such a cheerful and positive approach to the subject by a pleasant and polite person (p-p-p) and it always makes a nice change to be actually asked by someone if they can feel my breast. Impeccable manners! And in someone so young. Seriously, he didn't look quite old enough to be a doctor. Either he is a baby genius or I am getting old...
Moving swiftly on, as I sit here typing I have looked up and there in the field in front of me is the last of this year's lambs, so small and very sweet.
I have to crack on with my chemo so that I can watch this for many years to come. Oh OK. Help with this for many years to come.
Thursday, 31 May 2012
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
!!Beware - radiation!!
I am having a rather radioactive week.
I am having scans to check nothing untoward is happening anywhere else in my body. I have today had a body scan and on Thursday I will be having a bone scan. To ensure that the radiographers can see everything these scans involve various dyes and radioactive isotopes being ingested or injected. Today's scan involved drinking "orange flavoured" dye at 10 o'clock last night and 6.15 this morning.
Now, this in itself does not sound too bad. What you have to bear in mind though is the instructions that come with the dye.
Each drink contains 10ml of the dye. This has to be diluted in 400mls of water. Who in their right mind drinks three quarters of a pint just before getting into bed?
The other slightly worrying instruction is: We strongly recommend that you add fruit squash to improve the taste. That's not a good sign.
So, I have been a good girl. I had drink 1 at 10pm last night and thankfully made it through the night until the alarm went off at 6.15 this morning when I had drink 2 - another 400ml of squash. My stomach was screaming out for a nice cuppa but I wasn't allowed any breakfast - thank goodness the scan was so early!!!
Now. I am not saying the drinks were the most delicious beverage I have ever drunk - in my mind that is the Long Island Iced Tea I drank sitting in a small bar in Manly - but it wasn't that bad. It may have been if I had unpinched my nose but I'm not that daft.
In addition to the drinks, I had the joy of a pump of drugs attached to me. Not so bad if you ignore the warm sensation in the groin that honestly make you feel like you have lost control of your body and inadvertently peed whilst suffering a blip in concentration. I had been warned about this by several people and had even been to the loo just before lying on the scanner bed - this did not stop me clenching hard when the warm sensation started!
So. One down. One to go.
Got to go. Bisto has just leapt into the paddling pool!
I am having scans to check nothing untoward is happening anywhere else in my body. I have today had a body scan and on Thursday I will be having a bone scan. To ensure that the radiographers can see everything these scans involve various dyes and radioactive isotopes being ingested or injected. Today's scan involved drinking "orange flavoured" dye at 10 o'clock last night and 6.15 this morning.
Now, this in itself does not sound too bad. What you have to bear in mind though is the instructions that come with the dye.
Each drink contains 10ml of the dye. This has to be diluted in 400mls of water. Who in their right mind drinks three quarters of a pint just before getting into bed?
The other slightly worrying instruction is: We strongly recommend that you add fruit squash to improve the taste. That's not a good sign.
So, I have been a good girl. I had drink 1 at 10pm last night and thankfully made it through the night until the alarm went off at 6.15 this morning when I had drink 2 - another 400ml of squash. My stomach was screaming out for a nice cuppa but I wasn't allowed any breakfast - thank goodness the scan was so early!!!
Now. I am not saying the drinks were the most delicious beverage I have ever drunk - in my mind that is the Long Island Iced Tea I drank sitting in a small bar in Manly - but it wasn't that bad. It may have been if I had unpinched my nose but I'm not that daft.
In addition to the drinks, I had the joy of a pump of drugs attached to me. Not so bad if you ignore the warm sensation in the groin that honestly make you feel like you have lost control of your body and inadvertently peed whilst suffering a blip in concentration. I had been warned about this by several people and had even been to the loo just before lying on the scanner bed - this did not stop me clenching hard when the warm sensation started!
So. One down. One to go.
Got to go. Bisto has just leapt into the paddling pool!
Friday, 18 May 2012
Good news
I am aware that I haven't written for ages - I have had my wonderful Mum staying for a week which has been brilliant and a huge thank you to my brother, his wife and their youngest for bringing her up last Saturday! I really am grateful for Mum coming up each time I have an appointment - there are just some conversations you cannot have over the phone! Thank you Dad for coming up to collect her and it was lovely to see you.
I had my results appointment on Tuesday which, to my mind, went well or as well as these things can. Apparently I have the type of cancer that has a negative response to Herceptin which is good as it means it is slightly less aggressive. Other tests show that it is very sensitive to Tamoxifen, which is also very good as this is the drug of choice for me to take for five years after the chemotherapy and radiotherapy has finished. To those in the know, my cancer scored 7 out of 8 in sensitivity to Tamoxifen. 1 short of perfect!!!!!
The other side of all this good news is of course not quite so good, some would say bad but I refuse to be bowed. The histology showed that of the 22 lymph nodes removed, a mere 21 showed signs of infection. But hey, they are all goen now. Disection of the tissue showed that the original 6mm area that had the biopsies taken from was in fact only one of many similar areas of infection spread throughout the breast with a primary area of infection 5cm across. Scarily, because of my age (38 to clear up any doubt out there) and the denser tissue in a younger breast, it is not unusual that none of these showed up on the mammogram. Thank goodness they found something in the ultrasound, took the biopsy and aspirated the lymph node when they did. The consultant said that it could have started up to a year ago.
All girls out there - check yourselves and be aware of ANYTHING that looks/feels unusual and make sure that you know what IS normal for you.
As the chemotherapy approaches I am now in two minds whether to bother with the cold cap when having my treatment. This consists of a plastic shower type cap that is full of literally freezing water. You have to wear it for an hour prior to treatment, during the treatment and then for two hours afterwards. The idea is that it reduces the take up of the drug by the hair follicles. It could work, might work or won't work and you don't know until you try it.
Now, I know I am being pathetic about this - I know the treatments are only once every three weeks so not like I would have to wear it every day but it is not guaranteed to work and I almost feel I need to shed my hair as part of the beating cancer process to celebrate being fit and healthy again with a new crop of hair.
What do you think?
I had my results appointment on Tuesday which, to my mind, went well or as well as these things can. Apparently I have the type of cancer that has a negative response to Herceptin which is good as it means it is slightly less aggressive. Other tests show that it is very sensitive to Tamoxifen, which is also very good as this is the drug of choice for me to take for five years after the chemotherapy and radiotherapy has finished. To those in the know, my cancer scored 7 out of 8 in sensitivity to Tamoxifen. 1 short of perfect!!!!!
The other side of all this good news is of course not quite so good, some would say bad but I refuse to be bowed. The histology showed that of the 22 lymph nodes removed, a mere 21 showed signs of infection. But hey, they are all goen now. Disection of the tissue showed that the original 6mm area that had the biopsies taken from was in fact only one of many similar areas of infection spread throughout the breast with a primary area of infection 5cm across. Scarily, because of my age (38 to clear up any doubt out there) and the denser tissue in a younger breast, it is not unusual that none of these showed up on the mammogram. Thank goodness they found something in the ultrasound, took the biopsy and aspirated the lymph node when they did. The consultant said that it could have started up to a year ago.
All girls out there - check yourselves and be aware of ANYTHING that looks/feels unusual and make sure that you know what IS normal for you.
As the chemotherapy approaches I am now in two minds whether to bother with the cold cap when having my treatment. This consists of a plastic shower type cap that is full of literally freezing water. You have to wear it for an hour prior to treatment, during the treatment and then for two hours afterwards. The idea is that it reduces the take up of the drug by the hair follicles. It could work, might work or won't work and you don't know until you try it.
Now, I know I am being pathetic about this - I know the treatments are only once every three weeks so not like I would have to wear it every day but it is not guaranteed to work and I almost feel I need to shed my hair as part of the beating cancer process to celebrate being fit and healthy again with a new crop of hair.
What do you think?
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
My Bank Holiday
Having spent two hours at the NHS's pleasure on Saturday afternoon I though I had paid my dues for a while. No. By last night the swelling was back, bigger than before, pushing harder on the scar and making it very difficult to get comfortable at all. The crowning glory of this was that at about half eleven I attempted to roll over in bed and felt an intensely painful ripping sensation in my lower chest below the collection of fluid. OK. Ian, we're off to Stoke. He was unimpressed to say the least and tried to persuade me that I was going to be fine, could we just go in the morning and he made a bet with me that the Breast nurse would phone at 8 in the morning.
I was not to be convinced and demanded to be taken in. Apologies to Wina for hauling her out of bed and across the yard so she could babysit - we did get the spare room ready for you and I think if you had known you would be sitting at the kitchen table for three hours you may have taken us up on it!!!
Yes. Three hours.
Sharing the waiting area with the usual collection of people (Ian was with me but was fast asleep - at least he got some sleep poor boy) but with the exciting addition of a man who had a bandaged hand covered in blood, with a very red face from pepper spray and sporting a very natty pair of metal bracelets!! Now. I know nothing of why he was in there - apart from the obvious bloody bandage - but is it no wonder there are never any policemen around when it takes two of them to sit for hours on end in A&E with one suspect. No. I am not in any way saying that he shouldn't get treatment and I would be the first to complain if, to save time, he was seen quickly to release the police back out but it does seem a waste of resources. However this is not to say I can think of an alternative.
Apart from the excruciating wait to be seen - it wasn't even busy in there (well, not from what I could see) I ended up with exactly the same surgeon as I had two days previously, although this time, luckily, he was actually doing the job himself rather than letting someone else use me for target practice.
He was definitely more confident in his approach to the subject, and more efficient.
Right up until he nicked my chest wall with the needle.
At least he had the good grace to apologise profusely and be very conciliatory.
This did not stop him once again asking me if I could put my arm above my head.
No. I couldn't do it two days ago and no, I still can't now. At least this time he believed me instead of trying to lift it himself. Maybe he is learning... I have no intention of going back again to find out. I am seriously hoping - although not hopeful - that it won't swell up again. Apart from the discomfort, it is boring sitting there for hours.
Even with a good book. And time with Ian. Even if he was asleep. Honestly, anyone would think he suffered from a weird as yet undiscovered illness that causes the sufferer to fall deeply asleep whenever they enter a hospital. No matter why we are there, waiting in A&E, being monitored, giving birth, he falls asleep in a chair.
I'm just jealous.
So after only two and a half hour's sleep I am looking forward to a day of doing nothing today.
Apart from thinking of ways to apologise to my husband who, and it hurts to say this, was right.
The Breast Nurse rang at 7.50 this morning.
I was not to be convinced and demanded to be taken in. Apologies to Wina for hauling her out of bed and across the yard so she could babysit - we did get the spare room ready for you and I think if you had known you would be sitting at the kitchen table for three hours you may have taken us up on it!!!
Yes. Three hours.
Sharing the waiting area with the usual collection of people (Ian was with me but was fast asleep - at least he got some sleep poor boy) but with the exciting addition of a man who had a bandaged hand covered in blood, with a very red face from pepper spray and sporting a very natty pair of metal bracelets!! Now. I know nothing of why he was in there - apart from the obvious bloody bandage - but is it no wonder there are never any policemen around when it takes two of them to sit for hours on end in A&E with one suspect. No. I am not in any way saying that he shouldn't get treatment and I would be the first to complain if, to save time, he was seen quickly to release the police back out but it does seem a waste of resources. However this is not to say I can think of an alternative.
Apart from the excruciating wait to be seen - it wasn't even busy in there (well, not from what I could see) I ended up with exactly the same surgeon as I had two days previously, although this time, luckily, he was actually doing the job himself rather than letting someone else use me for target practice.
He was definitely more confident in his approach to the subject, and more efficient.
Right up until he nicked my chest wall with the needle.
At least he had the good grace to apologise profusely and be very conciliatory.
This did not stop him once again asking me if I could put my arm above my head.
No. I couldn't do it two days ago and no, I still can't now. At least this time he believed me instead of trying to lift it himself. Maybe he is learning... I have no intention of going back again to find out. I am seriously hoping - although not hopeful - that it won't swell up again. Apart from the discomfort, it is boring sitting there for hours.
Even with a good book. And time with Ian. Even if he was asleep. Honestly, anyone would think he suffered from a weird as yet undiscovered illness that causes the sufferer to fall deeply asleep whenever they enter a hospital. No matter why we are there, waiting in A&E, being monitored, giving birth, he falls asleep in a chair.
I'm just jealous.
So after only two and a half hour's sleep I am looking forward to a day of doing nothing today.
Apart from thinking of ways to apologise to my husband who, and it hurts to say this, was right.
The Breast Nurse rang at 7.50 this morning.
Sunday, 6 May 2012
I'm a real girl! I'm a real girl!
Meant in the style of Pinnochio. But there the similarity ends.
My special appendage is not made of wood, nor does it grow if I tell a lie. Or at least I don't think so, I haven't put that to the test yet!
For anyone who hasn't quite worked out what I am on about, I have today, for the first time since I got dressed on the day of my operation, put on a bra and am wearing my fake boob, or as it is more commonly known, my "softie".
This has been brought on by my desire to wear a shirt as opposed to a vest top as it is phenomenally easier to put on so I needed to have some way of looking "normal". It is surprisingly comfortable, is not pressing on the scar and actually affords a teeny bit of protection from the waving hands, legs and heads of various small people.
So there you have it. Levelled up. Sort of...
My special appendage is not made of wood, nor does it grow if I tell a lie. Or at least I don't think so, I haven't put that to the test yet!
For anyone who hasn't quite worked out what I am on about, I have today, for the first time since I got dressed on the day of my operation, put on a bra and am wearing my fake boob, or as it is more commonly known, my "softie".
This has been brought on by my desire to wear a shirt as opposed to a vest top as it is phenomenally easier to put on so I needed to have some way of looking "normal". It is surprisingly comfortable, is not pressing on the scar and actually affords a teeny bit of protection from the waving hands, legs and heads of various small people.
So there you have it. Levelled up. Sort of...
Saturday, 5 May 2012
Advice to the NHS
For the past two decades it is fair to say I have been the proud owner of quite a valley. Ten days ago, it was transformed into a plateau with a nearby hill. Over the last couple of days, unauthorised groundworks appear to have been taking place and a new foothill has been developing. Today, the strain on the ley line has become too great and intervention was required.
After a swift visit (two hours) to A&E I am once again in possession of a plateau and a hill.
Now, where to start with the advice for the NHS?
Booking in and waiting for triage were, as I expected, run of the mill, apart from being slightly offended by the triage nurse putting the BP cuff on my arm that quite clearly said 'Large Adult'. I am not arguing that I couldn't do with losing a few pounds, who couldn't? I am quite naughtily relying on my chemo to do that for me, but large adult? Thankfully, he was corrected by the fact that it failed completely to pick up any sort of BP from me. I am therefore surely meant to go to the top of the scale for immediacy of treatment as I am registering death like symptoms? No. The right sized cuff thankfully registered a very healthy and calm reading.
Eventually collected by an A&E doctor who was very pleasant and understanding but I am sure I still saw some moisture behind her lobes. An examination followed that seemed to involve a lot of talking and not much examining, although apart from prodding the fluid filled area, realistically what could she do? She wrote it all down and then announced she had no idea what to do other than draw the fluid off so was going to consult with the surgical team in case they needed a more hands on part in my treatment. What?? Have I not had enough surgical intervention in the past fortnight?
Advice to NHS part 1 - please teach all staff how to help a patient with a painful and non functioning arm to get undressed. When they ask you to pull a sleeve on the opposite arm that functions perfectly, do what they ask. Don't think you know better and try and take the cardigan down off both shoulders because THAT HURTS!!!! They are asking you to perform a task that they know will benefit them and cause the least discomfort.
Advice to the NHS part 2 - don't admit in front of the patient that you have no idea how to proceed and then run off leaving you undressed in an unlocked room.
Advice to the NHS part 3 - when the surgical team arrives is it advisable that they do not appear to be a comedy team where no-one is sure who has what instruments or even if the instruments they do have are relevant to the procedure to be carried out.
Advice to the NHS part 4 - I do not care how senior you are, when a patient says OW, it generally implies they would quite like you to stop doing what you are doing. In my case prodding my left under arm hard when it has just had incredibly invasive surgery performed on it and you have already been told it is the sorest point on the patient's body. I did point out to him that I was aware he was not used to feedback from his patients as they are usually unconscious, however this one is wide awake and would he listen to her please?
Advice to the NHS part 5 - whilst the, it now appears junior, surgeon is performing the procedure it is not advisable for the senior surgeon to point out he is using the wrong sized needle. Thank god he was, apparently he should have been using a wider one.
Advice to NHS part 6 - please teach all medical staff how to put on dressings and for goodness sake don't stand watching and then ask if they have it the right way up!!!!
Advice to the NHS part 7 - Please tell ALL doctors to turn their backs while the physically challenged patient is squirming their way back into their top by stepping into it and pulling it up in a not very dignified manner as their previously sore and non functioning arm is now excruciatingly painful because the surgeon kept prodding it.
I think that covers it.
Anyway, I had a couple of hours' peace and quiet in which to read a book, I bought a hot chocolate and I got home in time to throw my babies into bed so I considered the outing a success. Oh, and they relieved the pressure on my scar (ley line).
One last thing. If your patient is honest enough to admit they have a needle phobia, please do not wave the needle and five syringes full of drawn fluid in her face...
After a swift visit (two hours) to A&E I am once again in possession of a plateau and a hill.
Now, where to start with the advice for the NHS?
Booking in and waiting for triage were, as I expected, run of the mill, apart from being slightly offended by the triage nurse putting the BP cuff on my arm that quite clearly said 'Large Adult'. I am not arguing that I couldn't do with losing a few pounds, who couldn't? I am quite naughtily relying on my chemo to do that for me, but large adult? Thankfully, he was corrected by the fact that it failed completely to pick up any sort of BP from me. I am therefore surely meant to go to the top of the scale for immediacy of treatment as I am registering death like symptoms? No. The right sized cuff thankfully registered a very healthy and calm reading.
Eventually collected by an A&E doctor who was very pleasant and understanding but I am sure I still saw some moisture behind her lobes. An examination followed that seemed to involve a lot of talking and not much examining, although apart from prodding the fluid filled area, realistically what could she do? She wrote it all down and then announced she had no idea what to do other than draw the fluid off so was going to consult with the surgical team in case they needed a more hands on part in my treatment. What?? Have I not had enough surgical intervention in the past fortnight?
Advice to NHS part 1 - please teach all staff how to help a patient with a painful and non functioning arm to get undressed. When they ask you to pull a sleeve on the opposite arm that functions perfectly, do what they ask. Don't think you know better and try and take the cardigan down off both shoulders because THAT HURTS!!!! They are asking you to perform a task that they know will benefit them and cause the least discomfort.
Advice to the NHS part 2 - don't admit in front of the patient that you have no idea how to proceed and then run off leaving you undressed in an unlocked room.
Advice to the NHS part 3 - when the surgical team arrives is it advisable that they do not appear to be a comedy team where no-one is sure who has what instruments or even if the instruments they do have are relevant to the procedure to be carried out.
Advice to the NHS part 4 - I do not care how senior you are, when a patient says OW, it generally implies they would quite like you to stop doing what you are doing. In my case prodding my left under arm hard when it has just had incredibly invasive surgery performed on it and you have already been told it is the sorest point on the patient's body. I did point out to him that I was aware he was not used to feedback from his patients as they are usually unconscious, however this one is wide awake and would he listen to her please?
Advice to the NHS part 5 - whilst the, it now appears junior, surgeon is performing the procedure it is not advisable for the senior surgeon to point out he is using the wrong sized needle. Thank god he was, apparently he should have been using a wider one.
Advice to NHS part 6 - please teach all medical staff how to put on dressings and for goodness sake don't stand watching and then ask if they have it the right way up!!!!
Advice to the NHS part 7 - Please tell ALL doctors to turn their backs while the physically challenged patient is squirming their way back into their top by stepping into it and pulling it up in a not very dignified manner as their previously sore and non functioning arm is now excruciatingly painful because the surgeon kept prodding it.
I think that covers it.
Anyway, I had a couple of hours' peace and quiet in which to read a book, I bought a hot chocolate and I got home in time to throw my babies into bed so I considered the outing a success. Oh, and they relieved the pressure on my scar (ley line).
One last thing. If your patient is honest enough to admit they have a needle phobia, please do not wave the needle and five syringes full of drawn fluid in her face...
Friday, 4 May 2012
I'm a medical miracle!!!
Or not. In fact, definitely not. The sudden regrowth of a boob and the regaining of a cleavage (more akin to a wrinkle) was initially exciting, but as it just appears to be a collection point for fluid, it is more of a medical cock up and although I hate to admit it, it may be of my own doing.
Boob III started to appear since I removed the pressure bandage on Wednesday so it has been a gradual gain which may have increased in growth speed since I took some of the steri strips off this morning. I was just so excited to see the pale pink, impressively thin scar that I may have got a little premature about my recovery. What? Do I hear a chorus of "why does that not surprise us?" I know. Sitting still, doing nothing is not my style and I am not a natural at asking for help. 'I can do it myself' will be my epitaph!
Having said that, I am entirely grateful to each and every person who has turned up to visit and for those people who have arrived unannounced bearing edible gifts - I am getting so fat I will definitely have to have a proper reconstruction at a later date if only so they can use my tummy to make it!!!!
So. Lesson learned. I will leave the housework to my wonderful cleaner, food seems to magically appear so that's another thing covered and as it seems to take the best part of an hour to have a bath and get dressed I will concentrate on speeding that up before catching up on my film viewing - several complete box sets to work my way through so I should be ok for now.
I do have to admit that I have just hoovered the playroom - with Alfred's help. He seems to love the new hoover although it does take him a while to do any area as he will insist on only using the hose to hoover a whole room...
Here's hoping that Boob III does not increase dramatically over the bank holiday as I really really really do not want to spend my bank holiday sitting in A&E with the various drunken injuries that these long week ends seem to produce. I will hopefully last till Tuesday when I can look forward to having the liquid syringed out using a big needle (my all time favourite utensil, NOT).
Now, where did I leave that hoover....?
Boob III started to appear since I removed the pressure bandage on Wednesday so it has been a gradual gain which may have increased in growth speed since I took some of the steri strips off this morning. I was just so excited to see the pale pink, impressively thin scar that I may have got a little premature about my recovery. What? Do I hear a chorus of "why does that not surprise us?" I know. Sitting still, doing nothing is not my style and I am not a natural at asking for help. 'I can do it myself' will be my epitaph!
Having said that, I am entirely grateful to each and every person who has turned up to visit and for those people who have arrived unannounced bearing edible gifts - I am getting so fat I will definitely have to have a proper reconstruction at a later date if only so they can use my tummy to make it!!!!
So. Lesson learned. I will leave the housework to my wonderful cleaner, food seems to magically appear so that's another thing covered and as it seems to take the best part of an hour to have a bath and get dressed I will concentrate on speeding that up before catching up on my film viewing - several complete box sets to work my way through so I should be ok for now.
I do have to admit that I have just hoovered the playroom - with Alfred's help. He seems to love the new hoover although it does take him a while to do any area as he will insist on only using the hose to hoover a whole room...
Here's hoping that Boob III does not increase dramatically over the bank holiday as I really really really do not want to spend my bank holiday sitting in A&E with the various drunken injuries that these long week ends seem to produce. I will hopefully last till Tuesday when I can look forward to having the liquid syringed out using a big needle (my all time favourite utensil, NOT).
Now, where did I leave that hoover....?
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
Zip uncovered
Having had the wonderful breast care nurse on the phone yesterday - she rang to see how I was getting on - I have today removed the bandage covering my scar and am now so much more comfortable. I had not realised how much the dressing was pulling my skin and how much pressure it was putting on my armpit.
The other thing I clarified with Lisa was the description of my cancer which was written down as Grade 3 invasive ductal carcinoma. As I had suspected the Grade applies to the ferocity of the cancer and yes, 3 is the worst one from an aggressive viewpoint, however she assures me that this is unsurprising and relatively common in younger women. She is also very clear once again that the cancer has now been removed and from now on I will be receiving treatment for having had breast cancer.
I am now reclining in the sitting room and out of the window I can see at least 8 lambs running up and down the fence having races - my favourite part of Spring, so life goes on and I look forward to helping more with it next year.
The other thing I clarified with Lisa was the description of my cancer which was written down as Grade 3 invasive ductal carcinoma. As I had suspected the Grade applies to the ferocity of the cancer and yes, 3 is the worst one from an aggressive viewpoint, however she assures me that this is unsurprising and relatively common in younger women. She is also very clear once again that the cancer has now been removed and from now on I will be receiving treatment for having had breast cancer.
I am now reclining in the sitting room and out of the window I can see at least 8 lambs running up and down the fence having races - my favourite part of Spring, so life goes on and I look forward to helping more with it next year.
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