@FcukBreastCancer
Your username is rather apt here as in FUCKBREASTCANCER. Cancer of all types can just fuck off.
Im gutted that you didn’t get the clear margins but I am thrilled your nodes were clear. That is great news.
But massively shit that you have to undergo surgery yet again. This time next week it will all be over and another week from then you’ll be on the road to recovery. I have everything crossed that you’ll be fully recovered and sprightly for Christmas 🎄.
I can’t really be arsed with Christmas this year but I don’t think my kids would forgive me if I went on strike. So I’ll do the old dictate from the couch where to put the decorations to DH and an almighty online shop.
I wanted to go away for Xmas this year, I was looking at cottages in Scotland but after discussing with oncologist she seems to think it might be risky. Would have to research local hospitals and all that shit. So will be off to mums for dinner. Don’t think mum would have forgiven me if I’d have actually fucked off into the Scottish wilderness with her grandkids for Christmas Day!!
How is everyone? This week has been pretty tough, my cortisol levels have come back half of what they should be so they’re questioning if I might have adrenal insufficiency, which can be caused by the immunotherapy. It will massively suck balls if it turns out to be that, because it’s irreversible and I’ll be on steroids forevermore. But what will be will be and I’ll be happy with steroids forever as long as the immuno works in keeping me here for the kids. I slept through the baby fatfat waking up in the night earlier this week so DH had to parent at 4am (won’t anybody think of DH 🙄). But it’s unlike me, he said I was pretty comatose. I’ve never not heard or woke up for one of the kids, and she’s at the end of my bed! So feel like I’ve been hit with the tired train. Mums been here helping me. Hot flushes also kicking my arse.
Got a telephone appt though with the surgeon for Tuesday which I wasn’t expecting, not sure what that’s about. I have been booked for an MRI on the 8th December (midway point before starting the 12 weeks EC). And, an appointment with psychology next Thursday to try and overcome some of the intrusive thoughts. So a bit going on and it’s freaking me out. The thought of an MRI is both reassuring and terrifying all at the same time. I don’t want the scan and the results will scare the shit out of me. I know it’s shrinking because I can feel the bastard shrinking, but it’s any other little surprises that might pop up that plague my thoughts.
Anyway, I can’t change/control the outcomes of these things apart from do as I’m told so I just have to suck it up chew some diazepam in the meantime.
It’s as though the routine keeps me going and sane and any break in the routine throws me off kilter. So an MRI in the mix has me all a tither.
The ferals living in my house have all come down with colds. It’s germ city up in here. Baby fatfat has another cold, coughing like a little spitty goose. DH has same cold, except he’s coughing up dark phlegm and has sore throat. DD8 has temperature and headache. So I’m just waiting for the inevitable now. I’ve been checking my temp regularly and so far so good 🤞.
I have limited sympathy for DH. He snores like a hog at the best of time and last night the little one woke up about 4am and every time she nodded back off he would either cough or snore and she’d wake up again. In the end he was banished to the couch. Next time I’m going to banish myself to the couch and have some bloody peace.
It’s freezing tonight! Got pants on in bed which is unlike me. See how long it lasts before I wake up in a hot flush sweating my tats off.
Sending peace and warmth to my fellow threadians and a relaxing weekend ahead for all.