It’s been a few weeks of extremes. My scan results showed that my liver and bones are now stable. This means that haven’t got any worse and to a secondary breast cancer patient this is a good news story. I join the ranks of being a ‘stable mable’ at least for the time being.
My brain did not get that memo and to be fair we knew the chemo and herceptin wouldn’t cross into my brain. I hoped, as did my oncologist that it would sit there for a while and do nothing. It has other ideas. There’s been some small but definite growth and that means something must be done.
Tomorrow I begin whole brain radiotherapy.
For me it’s as scary as it sounds, I know what I have is serious but this feels serious now! My brain will be blasted with radiotherapy every day for 10 days. I have to wear a mask which will be bolted down to the bed so I can’t move, it’s all a bit grim.
On Thursday I went off to Bristol to participate in breast cancer cares ‘younger women with secondary breast cancer’ course. About 40 ladies under the age of 45 all with the same diagnosis as me all at different stages. In the light of everything else that’s going on I was apprehensive but I didn’t need to be. There is something so liberating about being with a group of people who understand the daily struggles that I face and I face alone. Don’t get me wrong I am loved beyond measure and have all the support I could possibly want from friends and family but when the door is closed I am alone. It’s what I find the most difficult about this disease, the isolation.
This weekend I wasn’t alone I was with people who get it and it couldn’t have been a better preparation for the week of hideousness I am facing.
I was able to speak to a wonderful lady who has been through the treatment I am facing and has come out the other side. She’s still fully functioning, knows her own name and spoke about the experience in a positive way. I am so grateful for that short but massively reassuring chat.
So tomorrow I pull on my big girl pants (they’re wearing a little thin!) take one of my much appreciated little blue pills and step into the unknown. The next chapter, the next stage, always with the hope this will put my brain lodgers to sleep indefinitely .