Chapter 5

The friendship and support I had received to date was amazing. I had cards by the dozen, a hamper of goodies to see me through chemo, even some dry shampoo (Janine) – which amused me, as clearly this was not something I was going to need! I had been taken out for meals, and had been given many gifts and messages that were beautiful.

March 13^th, Dad’s birthday. First chemo session. Dad said it would be a ‘good day’ as it was his birthday. Wes and I headed off to the chemo day centre with a bag of ‘goodies’, not really knowing what to expect other than a free lunch! It was 8am when I arrived at the unit. I knew a few of nurses there, and they were all shocked that I was coming in for treatment and they greeted me with big hugs.

Firstly, we watched an information DVD. I can’t say any of it sunk in. Everyone seemed to be really friendly on the unit and the atmosphere was calm and peaceful.  A nurse came and put a cannula (a small plastic tube) in my arm to insert the intravenous medication. I had several pre-medications for sickness, and steroids for joint pain, to mention just a few. Then they commenced the chemotherapy. We received so many ‘good wishes’ from friends and family, including one from Sarah, my friend from school days, who also had cancer. We had made a pact that we would ‘kick cancer’s ass.’ We all passed the day chatting and laughing and supporting each other.

We left the unit eight and half hours later, at 4.30pm. I was exhausted but not really feeling any different. It was all so strange.

A couple of days later I received my results from the PET scan.  It showed three hot spots. One was in the lower right abdominal area (the area where I had been having a lot of pain for the past eight weeks), and one other that was higher on the left side. I was told these were tumours. They wanted to give me another medication alongside the chemotherapy, but it was thought there was too much of a risk of bleeding, with me having Peutz-Jeghers Syndrome. The consultant seemed to be less optimistic because of the PET results and its aggressive nature. Friends meant well and sent me other people’s positive stories. I found this so annoying because, without trying to sound ungrateful, these people were not me and it irritated the shit out of me, but not literally.

I had to take regular medications for the first few days; steroids and anti-sickness tablets. I had terrible right-sided pain, and took analgesia for this, but there was no new pain or feelings during these initial days. However by day four I was in so much pain with my joints that it was difficult to either walk or sleep. But the pain relief I needed was also making me constipated. It was a vicious circle.

I was shattered but did my best to continue with normal life as best as I could and to carry on organising the charity party. Wes started making furniture out of pallet wood (I think this was his way of ‘switching off’).  We joked about him making me a coffin, I wanted a hole to put my arm through so I could flip the bird!

My hair had started falling out in small amounts whenever I washed it. I felt so scared to have a shower as every time I washed my hair, more came out. April 1 st in the shower (this was no ‘April Fool’), my hair fell out in great clumps. I just stood there and cried. I thought I was prepared but it just made it all so real. When I got out of the shower, Wes and Chaz were really supportive and we all shaved our heads. I was so scared to look in the mirror, frightened that Wes would no longer fancy me, but it was obvious he still did, and he gave me so much reassurance.

We started a family ‘Bake Off’, and this was so much fun that allowed us to lose ourselves for a bit, despite the fact that we kept failing. It turns out cancer is not a sad enough ‘backstory’… We should’ve entered X factor instead!!

Three weeks passed very quickly, and the day of the next chemo arrived. Oh, the deep joy! We were greeted in the usual cheerful manner and started the chemo.

We ended up being there for nine hours because the cannula site kept blocking. It was so exhausting.

The next few days passed. I was in agony with joint pain. I had a phone call from a staff member at the Oncology Unit, to ask me how I was getting on. I very much felt that she was asking me a standard template of questions and not listening to me at all. I found this really frustrating and a pointless waste of my time. I was feeling emotionally drained and broke down in Wes’ arms. I told him I did not want to die, that I was so scared, that I wanted to see Chaz meet someone and settle down, I wanted to be there to support Wes with his little one whom I had built a very strong bond with….

I was so tired and all I wanted to do was sleep. I was having hot flushes and sweats through the night and found it difficult to get any sleep. I kept wondering how I could possibly recover.

I was exhausted but I carried on with my life, and we still had many day trips out – Llanrhaeadr waterfalls, ‘Thomas Land’, various farms… We had so much fun and I would sleep in the car. (Wes loved the peace and quiet).

My Dad and Karen came to visit. It was the first time they had seen me since the chemo started, so I think it was a bit of a shock for them. I tried to fit in a number of visitors, but I did have to cancel some due to pure exhaustion, even though I was determined not to let cancer beat me.

I bought myself some beautiful hats. Several other people bought me scarves, including my goddaughter (well, she chose it but her mum paid). I felt reasonably comfortable in them but I couldn’t get used to my wig. I felt like I was in fancy dress every time I put it on. This was just shit, I loved my hair!

The charity party was only a few days away, and I still had no idea what I was going to wear as the chemo had increased my weight too, so now I felt like a fat bald person (Wes said that was how he always felt, which never failed to make me laugh). I managed to get a dress online that I felt reasonably comfortable in, but the mirror had become my ‘enemy’, my constant reminder that I had cancer.